Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away..

If you know what iconic band sings that line, congrats you’re winner In my book.  Now onto the real topic of discussion.

Recently, I’ve been proposed with the question if I enjoy being lonely/alone. My first instinct to the question was along the lines of “hell no” and “go fuck yourself.” But of course, I responded in the philosophical way of asking a question back to counteract the statement.

“Doesn’t everyone get lonely sometimes?”

Now building onto that, I choose to be alone. 

I am a 20 year old woman who would rather sit in a claw foot bathtub, drink wine and read in solitary than face social interaction some days, do we all not feel that way at some point in our lives?

Now I fully believe this question was intended to dive into my relationships rather than a general statement.

I have done a lot of analyzing recently, probably too much. I realize I’ve been out of a relationship for half a year and I suppose I’m just not ready to put myself out there yet.  My last exclusive relationship, as you might have read in a previous post of mine, was a train wreck. He was very controlling and I was forced to be very dependent on him and that’s just not how I roll. He took a giant chunk out of me and I suppose I’m building myself back up. I have goals in life that require me to have a man involve– children, marriage, etc. But at this negative point in my life, that’s all a man is to me. Someone who can supply my goals.

My First Time

So I woke up with the most agonizing pain of a Charley horse in my right leg, cried, and fell back asleep. Only I wake up a few hours later with a deep pain in my calf. Please shoot me.

On the actual topic of discussion, I’m in a more difficult pain of realization and broken heart.

I don’t understand why I have the realization of things sometimes. Maybe because I think too much in the early hours, linger the idea a while, come to realization and then post it down in a blog or paper.

Referring to my last post, on my battle with Anorexia Nervosa and Bulimia, I obviously didn’t conquer alone. I had a very strong support team.

One person in particular was the one I would have considered to be my first love.

I was sixteen (almost seventeen) years old, I had been working at a Taco Bell since the past fall and it was summer again. My building was torn down and made bigger, bringing more employees in. And I had confided in new friends, particularly a stud lesbian, we’ll call her K for short. Work was definitely a lot more fun (bitchy boss and shitty co-workers) and we became a trio with my other best friend named P who I had worked with for a while and also worked at Taco Bell. Well, K and I decided to hang out more and it got to the point of closeness to which I kissed her. A few weeks later, we started dating. And so the story goes, my parents didn’t approve of such relations. We broke up many times and dated for months. And then.. We officially broke everything off in January, I graduated high school and went of to college and hasn’t heard from her. Until that October, to which we talked about remaining friends. It got complicated because she was dating her then fiancée at the time and something about developing feelings for me again. It was stupid. So I stopped being friends again. And then, we stopped talking again until current time today. To which we are friends.

Anyway, rewinding from that long back story, she helped me through my eating disorder and I have a ton of respect for her, but I’ve come to the realization that things are weird and awkward.

I’m not the same young 16 year old who rebels and hangs around people that act like they have the same mentality. I’m a mature 20 year old who has her shit together. I’m about to start my beauty career in a year, I’m moving into my own place next summer, I have a long and goal-oriented life.

I have a huge amount of respect and love for K, but the part of me that was connected to her is in the past. I feel like the only excuse I have that she’s in my life is to protect me from relapsing, but I feel like because that’s the only reason I keep her around, I relapse on purpose to lie to myself. I cant see myself and her in the future at any part of my life.

This is what I see:

She’s going to continue to work at Taco Bell, go through hard shit, become an alcoholic again, be high all the time hopefully someone will pick her back up and she’ll clean herself up.

I, however, see myself with a successful career in the beauty industry, launching my own line of some cosmetic or hair care. Happily married with beautiful babies and a well kept home. Traveling a bit, looking great.

I feel like there was a time and place she was allowed in my life to help me grow, but that time was the past and she needs to stay there like a memory in a scrapbook so I can move on and not be stuck on the past. I feel like by keeping K in my life, she’s holding me back.

As I watch current heartbreaks of this year like Corey Monteith’s death, there’s no doubt Lea loves him and will continue to love him, but she will find a new love one day (as sad as it is). Or like divorced parents. Mine for example have a different kind of love for each other now. My mom is quoted saying

I will always love your father, but it’s in a different way now. He gave me the three greatest accomplishments of my life which were your brother, you and your sister, and for that I will always love him.

On a side note, they are both happy and respectively married. And I just have to treat my situation the same. I do love K, but it’s more out of respect.

And I hope the lucky guy who wins my heart for permanency treats me just as well as K treated me.

What’s This?

So.. Relationships.

I suck at managing relationships with people.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to be alone in a four-walled white room.

The only people I really keep relationships with are those I see on a regular or semi-regular basis. Namely, my friends/roommates, my mother, sister and my godson’s mother/high school friend.

I wish I could talk to everyone in my life on a regular basis but I don’t have the time, energy or motivation to have several conversations a day.

Here’s a dirty little secret of mine: when I try to keep family members updated on my life, it’s usually a giant, vague mass text. Usually along the lines of I’m doing fine and sending them my love from my oh-so-posh independent adult lifestyle I try to convey.

However, I’ve fallen into the predicament where I’m attempting to make other relationships, if you know what I mean.

Although I’m young, my dating life is a bigger horror story than any of the Grimm Brothers’ and Edgar Allen Poe’s stories combined.

First, there was my first college boyfriend who bluntly told me he didn’t have time for me anymore because he’d rather be drinking on the weekends with his frat.. Well then.

Then, there was the tempered, controlling, insecure military guy who wouldn’t allow me to go out with my friends because there were “potentially going to be other guys there.” And he kicked a tree in front of me after I broke up with him.. Oops? Happily, he has now downgraded to a girl in his league, good luck to you two!

Following him was the psychopathic guy I friend-zoned which resulted in my phone number being posted on a public website and nude images of muscular men were sent to my phone (not completely bad).

And finally the reoccurrence of running into an old hookup from my freshmen year of college. Please have another 5 minute conversation with me on the bus and then turn back around and act like I don’t exist, or don’t say a word. Please, I’m begging you.

And now to current speed, I’m delighted to say I’ve fallen into the trap of “playing the field” casual dating. And now, to the contenders.

We’ve got the 22 year old doppelgänger of the young Kevin Bacon who has a successful job, already college graduate and basically has his ducks in a row. However, he sucks at making conversation and is rather awkward. We’ll call him C.

And then…

We have the 20 year old pacific islander, who is currently a business student and works as a cashier at a Dierbergs grocery store. It’s hilarious because I’m a business major who works at an Aldi grocery store. We have the same view on subjects and he really shows interest into getting to know me. We’ll call him J.

This choice should be obvious, it should be J, but I’m willing to get to know C more. We’ve had one date. I can’t judge him based on that right?

We’ll see. I feel like I’m going to update about the progression of these two and call them C&J days. Hmm.. I like it. Too bad I can only choose one. I feel like Reese Witherspoon in This Means War. If that’s the case, can you be my Chelsea Handler?

What lovely bones you have

It’s an ADDICTION you live with for the rest of your life.

Im not sure if I hated food or just myself. I suppose with wanting to thin my body out was a hatred for myself. Until I opposed all types of food unless it was purée.

I’m a three year Eating Disorder survivor/soldier. Many titles apply once you’ve made it through therapy. With those who will argue to me an Eating Disorder is choice– leave this page forever or continue to be ignorant and read on. Your choice.

Anyway, I went to therapy throughout the course of this ongoing three year battle, and I was threatened to be hospitalized three times, relapsed four times and am still pushing through (it’s not like you can avoid food you know). It went through stages that went spiraling so far down I could’ve made a 6 ft hole in the Earth for myself.

It began the first stages where I was limiting what foods I could and couldn’t eat. The second stage was cutting back calories to ridiculous amounts. Six hundred calories a day anyone? The third was when I wouldn’t eat at all. When I wasn’t satisfied, I resorted to weak gag reflexes and a toilet. I was ADDICTED to being thin and pretty.

Of course everyone close to me saw the obvious symptoms: losing large amounts of weight, wearing baggy clothing, bad breath, exhaustion, pale and bruised skin, weak immune systems, etc. After recovery effects were even worse.

I developed a fear of food and gaining weight. I couldn’t eat alone, I wasn’t allowed to read magazines, I no longer had a mirror in my room. After gaining my weight back, I discovered I had anemia. I was always afraid of an extra pound of fat. I cried when looking at myself. I was an emotional fucking wreck.

It was a very hard battle and it still is. However, through this chapter of my story, I wouldn’t have chosen the career I did or sought out to help others struggling through the same things I did. I believe part of God’s reason for creating me the way I am or putting me on this planet was to help others. And as cliche that statement is, I will use and overuse it for the rest of my lifetime.

The Naked Truth

So, I’m Kate. I’m a less-than-average almost 20 year old who has a great eye for good food and art. I’ve finally realized my calling in life is cosmetology and I honestly believe there’s beauty in everyone. My life is interesting, more than it should, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Let’s learn about the beauty of others and the naked truth of Kate together.