Padre in PIctures- 2014

10 years

Ten years .

Ten years ago I made the decision (okay... my therapist, parents and dietitian... and me) made the decision it is better for me to go into inpatient treatment than to continue living the way I was. 

I thought I was just mildly depressed... maybe a tad insane. But not "sick." The day before I left I went to one of my sweet friend's homes to just be for a second. The anxiety started rearing it's ugly head and she sat, hugged, and whispered "just get on the plane. just get on the plane." 

So I got on the plane and ended up in Arizona. Beautiful Arizona. 

I walked into a room full of sick girls. Their illness was far more apparent than me. Picture a fat girl walking into a concentration camp and trying to say "I belong here." Needless to say I had a hard time, a really really hard time thinking that Remuda Ranch was where I needed to be. The girls around me were getting feeding tubes, couldn't walk much before getting out of breathe and would weep (WEEP) before meal time. I was the only girl at the time that was over weight. How in the world could a fat girl fit in at an Eating Disorder Rehabilitation Center. REALLY? 

Oh, how little I knew about myself. After a ridiculous amount of work, praying, yelling, hitting things, journaling, hitting things, throwing things, yelling, screaming, crying, and throwing some more things I got it. I was broken. Really darn broken. It was at Remuda that I found my faith. It was there that I found out how much I needed a savior. It was there that I found hope. That I found myself. 

There is something in this process that I miss. Taking the time to journal and to just be, Taking the time to really get in touch with my soul, see the woman that God created... get in touch with all the broken pieces... feel life. Truly feel it all. It was a season that was painfully beautiful and precious. 

Then life came... two lives. I love being a mommy. I love runny noses, and dirty toilet seats, and 5am dance parties, and chicken nuggets for the 4th night in a row, and sword fights, and dress up before bed.... I love all of it. 10 years ago, I would have told you that I would hate the idea of both marriage and motherhood. But both have brought parts of my heart alive that I never thought existed

. 

But lets face it-unless you have time for a full time maid, or have more than 24 hours in your day, there simply is very little time for "self care" for mommies. The time for journaling, the time to just be. So for the next 10 years this is my journey. I want to get back to the place where I can be in touch with my soul, where I can feel all the feelings God created us to feel, and still be a present mom. 

Am I alone here moms?I truly believe that if I continue to heal, continue to journal, continue to be, than I would be a better mom. A better wife. A better person.