What I have been through makes me strong, not broken.

What I have been through gives me a better perspective on life, instead of seeing through a narrow lens.

What I have been through makes me understand and relate to people better, not be judgmental and cold.

What I have been through should teach me that each moment spent wallowing in my depression is one more moment wasted, one more moment where they win.

So, let's get this out of my system and be done with it:

Dad - fuck you. FUCK you. You not only made one mistake, but repeated, abhorrent mistakes that destroyed our family. I'm sure the main reason you avoid being a father to me is because you're too afraid to see how badly you've screwed me up.

Mom - fuck you too. You are way too busy stuffing your face up your own ass to see the mess you've made. Open your eyes, you're not innocent here.

Erin and Kelly - you guys suck. You both are hypocritical and controlling and quite frankly, bitches. Let me live my life the way I want to and stop pulling the "I'm bigger and know what's best for you" crap. We have all been through our individual battles, but my war was far more bloody than the two of yours combined and somehow I can still manage to be decent to people.

Tatiana: the entire time I have known you, I have thought about putting you through a meat grinder. Or a wood chipper. I think that says a lot about the mental anguish you cause small children. I highly suggest adjusting something.

Vaughan, Chance, Scotty: you pigs literally disgust me. You have nothing to live for other than beer and...well, that's about it. Beer. The world would be such a better place without you three. The fact that I wasted my time in your mere presence is enough to make me want to take a flat iron to my eyeballs. Do me a favor, go to fucking hell. But not before I chop your dicks off.

Cailean: ew, ew, ew. Loathsome human being. You are never gonna be off the hook for all of the shit you pulled. NOPE. Just gross. Also, you have me to thank for your dumb career in the medical field. Dumbass. Hope you get that speech impediment fixed. You know, might be an issue when you're trying to shout out what medication to give someone.

Eric: yet another example of a worthless human being. Yeah, that's about it cuz there's really not much to you. Figuratively, of course, because everyone knows that you are going to die from a complication of obesity.


Okay, those are all of the things worth spending my energy on saying. That's it. Done. Moving on.

It's October.

For the past two years, "it's October" has held two different meanings for me. One brings about happy images of pumpkin patches and apple orchards and beautiful fall leaves...and the other brings about images that I don't ever, ever, EVER want to see. But they come anyway. And today being exactly two years since it happened? I'm seeing them constantly.

I see it in flashes. The first is when I was walking downstairs with him. I remember thinking how fucked up I was because I could barely see the stairs or feel my body. Then I hear the door slam and I am being thrown. Then I am yelling and looking down and finding that I am naked. Then he says it. He says to shut up and act like I like it. Then the other one comes in. Then I am alone on the bed, sobbing. Then the voicemail I left Madison at 2am. "Madison, something terrible has happened. Please call me back, please." And lastly, driving to work the next morning, dizzy and nauseous, and realizing that there are bruises on my hands and that my mouth is bleeding.

And getting the morning after pill. And that terrible phone call trying to explain to Rachel what happened, only for her to instantly turn the blame on me and start publicly harassing me about being a whore and a secret slut. Not being able to show my face at work. And months later, being escorted by a counselor to the student health center to get tested for STI's.

Why didn't I stand up for myself and tell them that I tried to fight it?
Why did I just let everyone assume that I was a secret slut?
Why did I fucking take that pill at the party in the first place?
Why did I even hang out with those people?!
Why didn't I yell louder, push harder?
Why did I give up and just lay there?

I have no answers. And for that I can never forgive myself.

I just want to see them again. Is that sick? I just want them to show up when we're out in Old Town so they can see that I can smile despite their existence in this world. I PRAY that they walk in to Sports Pub and make a comment as they walk by so I can stand up to them and put them in their place. I want them to see that I can stand up for myself and that they better not mess with me. I literally watch the door when we're at Sports Pub, waiting for them to walk in. I play out the scenarios over and over.

I always tell people that there's a reason for everything, and that even the bad things can yield positive change. But this? I can't possibly see the good. Is it that I realized what scum those people were and never hung out with them again? Is it because it led me to Larry?

Larry. If that hadn't happened, I would have never met Larry. Because I stayed in my house for five months after it happened except for school and work. Because Jacquie told me I needed to return back to the world. Because boys were stupid and we needed a girls night. And suddenly, I was alive again.

But as alive as I have felt the past year and a half, there are still times where I suddenly get triggered into replaying that night, and I'm numb. My family might be half right about something: I'm not properly healed. But how do you ever fully heal from something like that? Let alone ALL of the other garbage I have to deal with every day?

And as important as it is to talk about this...I can't right now. It literally hurts way too much. I can't even finish my thoughts.

So if I'm distant, or extra jumpy, or start crying out of nowhere, or seem like something is wrong? Yes, something is wrong. I'm waiting for October to be over.

Reflections on "Reflections"

After reading my last post to myself, I noticed that I could have basically broken it down into just two things: experiencing what my body is capable of ("human body," "dancing," "crafting," "dangerous activities,"), and experiencing the earth and all of its wonders ("rain," "flowers," "animals," "coconut," "moon, stars, universe," and "traveling"). And then I noticed another theme - a lot of the things on that list that are the most important to me, I don't do. Like dancing, and being in front of the camera, and spending more time with nature, and crafting, and traveling. I realize I can't do it all, but if I think about it, what do I spend my time doing instead? I know I could do better to make myself happier.

The last thing that stood out to me were the things that I didn't include. Like gymnastics. I mentioned it, but it didn't get its own number. I guess I just assumed that gymnastics was a given. But I think that's further proof that it's slowly slipping away from my conscious. I also think I realized something important about gymnastics; the reason I feel so conflicted about loving it or hating it. To clarify, here's what I think it is: I love the art of gymnastics, I hate the necessary brutality for doing it as a sport. Easy enough to understand I guess. Which stresses me out, because I cannot for the life of me decide if I will put my future children in gymnastics or not.

I also didn't include cooking. I like food and nutrition and cooking and serving people a lot. But right now I can't include that because my struggles with food are just too exhausting. The eating disorder, and now the constant digestive distress. It's just not fun. But when this is over, you bet that will be on my list. 

And lastly, I really didn't talk about people. I mentioned Larry, and briefly mentioned a few family members, but I think a reflection on the people in my life is very necessary. 

That is all. 

Starbucks Reflections

A series of unfortunate events has led to this moment.

1) The house has become infested with fleas.

2) The house has been flea-bombed twice, however the flea population is still flourishing. 

3) The flea exterminator people came to the house, but told Kalvin and me that we have to leave the property for 3 hours. Probably to look through my panty drawer and masturbate on my bed but that's beside the point. 

So, we decided to be productive students and go to Starbucks to study and drink autumn beverages. Perfect opportunity to do my statistics homework that I have been putting off. 

Aaaah, I have my venti hot mint tea in hand, I have connected to the free wifi, life is great. Except I FORGOT MY STATISTICS TEXTBOOK FOR WHICH I NEED TO DO MY HOMEWORK ON ACCOUNT OF THE HOMEWORK QUESTIONS BEING IN THE TEXTBOOK AND I CAN'T GO HOME TO GET IT BECAUSE ITS A BIOHAZARD. 

So instead, I'm going to make a list of things I like. And things I don't like. It was Kalvin's idea. Part of a self-identity thing and all. In no particular order...

Courtney's Top 20 List of Things She Likes

1. Small, cute, furry animals of the baby variety. Particularly pigs, sloths, horses, puppies, kittens, porcupines, giraffes, goats, lamb, and pandas.

2. Flowers of all varieties, but especially sunflowers and daisies and roses. 

3. Rain and everything that comes with it. The way it sounds, smells, and looks dripping off of the trees. I love to stand in the open doorway while it's raining and ponder my life while I watch it. Something about rain just makes me feel so good.

4. Ice cream. Godddddd, I love ice cream so much it may or may not be a problem. Peppermint ice cream, coconut ice cream*, coffee ice cream, cheesecake ice cream, strawberry cheesecake ice cream, pumpkin ice cream**, green tea ice cream, salted caramel ice cream....EVERYTHING. This is also synonymous with froyo and sherbet and frozen treats in general.   

* Coconut is everything. This almost needs its own number. In fact it will get its own number.

**Pumpkin is also everything. It's so versatile and perfect. I would also like to declare that I LOVED pumpkin and had it ALL the time before Buzzfeed made it a "basic white girl" fad. Which angers me because now when I make all of my pumpkin delights in the fall, it's sooooo basic. Whatever. 

5. Coconut. It's weird saying that now because I feel like I'm saying my name. This is because Larry refers to me as "Coconut" 87% of the time. So it kind of is my name? But it's only my name because I LOVE COCONUT SO MUCH. Which is weird, because as a kid I hated coconut flavored things. But now I absolutely must own everything and anything coconut. Not only does it taste heavenly, but the actual coconut plant itself is a miracle food. You can do everything with it. You can use it's oil, sugar, meat, water, milk; turn it into butter, use it in cooking and baking, and use it for cosmetic purposes, too! And the best part is that it's one of the most healthy foods on the earth. It's the jackpot of all jackpots. 

6. Going out to places in which I can wear a pretty outfit and put make-up on. This includes date nights, going out for drinks, lunch dates with friends, venturing to DC for activities, concerts, holidays, family gatherings, or traveling anywhere really. This is because I have spent 90% of my life in a leotard or workout clothes or yoga pants. 

7. Being cuddly and cozy in bed with cuddly and cozy PJ's and cuddly and cozy blankets and pillows. Bonus points for Netflix, hot tea, ice cream, a book, and my boyfriend. I will also include cuddling with this, because it's the best. I can't imagine anything better than the feeling of holding and being held by the person that you love. That's because cuddling releases oxytocin in your brain which makes you feel all warm and fuzzy and more connected to the person you're cuddling with. I'm an oxytocin junkie.  

8. Adventurous and slightly dangerous activities. Skydiving, bungee jumping, galloping on horseback, doing handstands on ledges, climbing things, roller coasters, etc etc. Oh yeah and flipping on a four-inch beam. The higher the height and the more dangerous the danger, the better. However, I do not fall into the realm of recklessness. I'm not about to jump into shark infested waters with an open wound for fun, but I would if I were in a cage. 

9. Traveling and seeing new places. If there's an opportunity, I'll take it. This mostly means that I find a good deal online for a trip and make it to the "check out" area, and then realize that I have no money. But I do have a physical list of the states and countries I have been to and plan on filling it as much as possible. Wanderlust. 

10. Being good at things. This one is interesting and I may be reaching an "aha" moment here. I asked Kalvin if listing that makes me a vain person (he's sitting right across from me making anatomy flashcards) and he said I should write "doing things I'm good at" instead. But that's completely different, and I prefer the former. Being good at things means that I want to be good at everything I try, and avoid things that I know I can't be amazing at. On the other hand, doing things that I'm good at means that I am okay with not being good at some things, but I just enjoy the ones that I am good at. Also, I think it's important to note that I immediately deem things that I'm not good at as things I don't like. And the same is true for the opposite: anything I'm good at, I decide that I like. But I realize this isn't the way it should be. For example, I enjoy racquetball, but I'm terrible at it. I just tell myself that I don't like it so I don't do more of it. Also, I'm great at gymnastics...or was great at gymnastics...but did I truly like doing it? Did I? My old therapist thinks I need to ponder this question very hard. Maybe I just didn't like the brutality of doing it as a sport. But the art form of gymnastics? There's nothing better. 

11. Being freshly groomed. Fresh manicures, fresh pedicures, fresh haircuts, being freshly shaven, being freshly showered, getting facials, the works!

12. Giving people massages. I mainly mean Larry when I say that but I enjoy massaging athletic bodies in general. Not only do I love examining and feeling their musculature, but I just like making people feel good. 

13. Crafting. This sounds odd, as I don't really craft. But I like to craft. As a kid I used to draw and paint and make pipe cleaner/tissue paper flowers and embroider all the time. And even today, when I go through Michael's, I feel like a kid in a candy store. I just like to make things. But refer to number 10 as to why I don't - I never feel like I'm good enough at it to devote my time to it. I plan on changing this with a particular Christmas present that I'm making for Larry. We shall see. 

14. The Holiday Season. For me the holiday season starts the day I can wear long pants or a sweater and ends when the Christmas Tree comes down. Although I don't entirely value what Christmas has turned into these days -  a competition of who has the most money (or at least that's what Christmas means in my family) - I do value what the holidays force us to do, which is spend time together and bask in the love we have for each other. It gives me hope: hope that one day, my whole family can enjoy the holidays together again. But every year since the divorce, I have been disappointed. And I wind up being terribly sad that I have to go back and forth between houses and keep track of who I had dinner with the previous year so I can switch it around the current year. It makes things even more complicated that I have a boyfriend because I want to spend the holidays with him. His family is a steady, uncomplicated, loving presence and makes me feel warm and welcome. And my family makes me feel uncomfortable, pressured, and sad. And when I want to spend the holidays with Larry, they get even more upset with me and say that my priorities aren't in order. But why would I choose being pulled back and forth between parents when I can spend my day in a place where I feel loved and welcome? But still, I get so excited for wrapping presents and the big holiday meal and listening to Christmas music and making New Year's resolutions. It's the best! Oh, and I like to have a pair of corresponding festive socks for every holiday, too. 

15. The moon, the stars, and the universe. Our world is so fascinating. And scary. And mysterious. And absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. I wish I would spend more time in nature and less time buried in things that don't matter.

16. Writing. I remember in second grade, we started class by responding to these one-sentence prompts. For example, "the girl walked into the room to find that the entire jar of cookies was..." and we had to finish the story. The entire class wrote a paragraph, maybe two. But my pencil went flying, and I'd turn in a 4 page short story to Mrs. Bartenhagen. I was constantly making up stories, and Kelly even asked me to tell her stories at night. Making up stories was the only way I could get myself to fall asleep at night. In high school, I started writing poems, and then starting journaling. Pieces of paper were the only things that I could tell my problems to. Then, I won the national writing contest in 11th grade. And I had a gymnastics blog in high school that my mom's publisher wanted me to turn into a book. I have a lot to say. I like writing. 

17. Photography, and each stage of it. I appreciate the skill and knowledge it takes for the photographer to capture his or her vision, and I love being the subject. I would actively pursue modeling and acting if I could get over my debilitating shyness. I feel vulnerable and all I think about when a picture is being of me is how gross my stomach looks, or how deformed my nose looks, and so forth. And finally, I love the product - the way a picture can capture the stunning beauty of human beings, or nature, or whatever. 

18. The human body. God, it's amazing. So perfectly designed. And capable of so much. It's crazy to think that while we're doing something simple like...reading, so many chemical reactions have to happen at the speed of light for you to be able to make meaning out of what you're seeing. And then there are all the other systems that are going on, like your digestive system constantly working, breaking down the food you ate yesterday and pulling each compound from that piece of chicken to use for energy or other metabolic processes. And then there are the nerves and the heart and the kidneys and the lymph nodes and the little organelles in each little cell of your body working so hard to keep everything going. If one system is off, the whole thing goes down. It's a machine. A constantly working machine. And everything you do contributes to how well it works. That's why I have a passion for nutrition, and exercise, and all of that health stuff. You have one body for your entire life. Respect it.

19. Daydreaming about my future. When I can't sleep, I plan out my future kitchen and all of the cooking tools and utensils I'll have, or imagine being proposed to, or my wedding, or giving birth to my first child, or performing on stage, the list goes on and on. I always catch myself smiling. 

20. Dancing. It's my language. It's my emotions expressed through movement. It's the only way to see deep into my heart and soul. And that's why I prefer to do it alone, because for someone to watch me dance would be completely exposing myself to them. It's a very precious thing. But nothing gives me chills quite like hearing a piece of music and visualizing me dancing to it, telling a story. And that's the problem - it often doesn't make it past the visualization phase. I don't do it. Is it because I'm afraid to expose myself to...me? I don't know. But I want to dance. I want to tell stories. I want to perform. I want to show people. But for some reason I can't. But it is so much a part of me. I cannot listen to a single song without seeing a dancer in my head dancing to it. No matter how hard I try. Every note in the song is a movement. I just want to dance. 

I need glasses

Two nights in a row, I have had a dream with a similar theme. They both SCREAM symbolism, but I haven't quite figured them out yet. But I know they're important. I underlined that parts that scream "symbolism" the loudest to help me identify the key messages.

On Monday night, I dreamt that I went back to Capital. I was on bars, my best and favorite event. My coach, Tatiana, was there. She was so excited that I was back. We started talking about what my new routine would be. A requirement is that you have to have two different release moves, so we started talking about that. 

"I love your pak salto, so we'll keep that in," she said. 

"I can do a tkachev, what about that?" I asked. 

Tatiana replied that she knew I could do a tkachev, but she didn't want me to because tkachevs are ugly. Instead, she told me to do a jeager. I have competed a jeager before, and I was good at it, but I like tkachevs much better because jeagers are blind (meaning you can't see the bar, you just have to reach out and hope your hands land on it instead of your face), whereas in tkachevs you can see the bar. 

"I don't like jeagers because I like to see what I'm doing," I said. 

But Tatiana insisted that I do the jeager. She assured me that it would take me a while to get the skill back, but that I should just try it. 

I trusted her, so I put on my heel pads (when you first start doing jeagers, it's a common mistake to flip too close to the bar and hit your heels full force). I went for it...I smacked my heels hard...but I caught it. I couldn't believe it! I caught it!!!!!! 

Tatiana and the whole gym started clapping. And that was the end. 

On Tuesday night, I dreamt that I was in school. I was in a very large, unfamiliar classroom, with an unfamiliar teacher. She had the class pass a complex poem down the rows, and each student was supposed to read a line. I was irrationally nervous as it got closer to being my turn. 

When it came to be my turn, I could barely read my line. I couldn't pronounce anything, couldn't get my words out, and didn't recognize any of the words I was reading. After struggling for some time and realizing that everyone probably thought I was an idiot, I passed the poem on to the person next to me, but the teacher stopped me. 

"Wait, what? Read that again."

"I can't see!" I said. I kept putting in eye drops, the kind that Larry has been using to help his eyes after surgery. 

I took a deep breath and tried again. I realized that I had missed entire words in the sentence the first time, and it made a little more sense this time. I was so embarrassed. 

When the class was over, the teacher read the poem in its entirety to us. When she got to the line that I read, she called me out and said, "see Courtney? That's how you say it." 

The end. 

Two nights in a row where I can't see something? What the hell am I not seeing? Okay, going into dream interpretation mode.

In the first dream, I was afraid to do something because I couldn't see what I was doing. But I knew that I could do it. When I tried it again, I nailed it. It hurt because I smacked my heels, but I still made it. Okay, but what is that thing that I'm afraid to go for? Wait, I think I just had an epiphany. I wanted to do the tkachev because it was familiar. I was afraid of the jeager because I couldn't see the outcome. What if the only reason I'm clinging to gymnastics is because it's familiar? And I'm scared of doing anything else because it's unpredictable? And the significance of release moves? Because it's all about knowing when to let go. Interesting. I'll consider it.

But in the second dream, I couldn't do something basic like reading because I couldn't see. But when I tried it again, I realized I was missing some words that helped it make sense. But WHAT ARE THE MISSING PIECES? And what is the significance of a poem? Maybe because poems are complex and hard to interpret, but come together when you put the pieces together? This one is giving me a little more trouble. The answer is right in front of me, but I can't see it.

...kind of like in my dream? Ah. Brain, you never cease to amaze me with you clever ways of delivering me messages. 

The next chapter?

I was extremely relieved once I was free from gymnastics, but I was also terrified. I had no idea who I was or what I was going to do with myself (wait, I still feel like that). All I knew is that I was like a fish out of water, barely able to breathe without a gym. So I became a coach at Apollo Gymnastics. I couldn't go back to Capital out of embarrassment, and Apollo was closer anyways. I called Val Teets, the owner of Apollo. I had once been teammates with her daughter, Jacquie, and we considered the Teets family good friends. They practically hired me on the spot because of my name. I started coaching recreational classes, but quickly moved up the ladder to coach competitive kids. I was good at it, I was making money, and it just felt natural to be in the gym. It became my new sanctuary.

I also had to decide what to do about college. Instead of being offered a spot on a team and then "green-lighted" into the school, I had to apply like every other kid. I applied to one place: George Mason. I had a 4.1 GPA, but I had no idea if I would get in. I just wanted to keep coaching and keep making money. I didn't feel like there were any other options. Thankfully I got in, but when I had to decide what to do about housing, I played it safe and chose to live at home. Part of me wanted the adventure of living on campus and getting the college experience, but the other part of me was petrified of that. Think about it: I was living in a bubble for my entire life. I probably would NOT have fared very well on my own in the dorms, even though I considered myself a mature adult from the age of ten. I pretended like the college life was below me and continued living in my bubble.

But the issue of the shoulder was still unresolved. Spotting kids at work was becoming too difficult. I was sick and tired of it, so I made an appointment with a new doctor. He diagnosed me with multidirectional instability, AKA a super loose shoulder. He told me to try physical therapy. But you just know when something isn't right, and I knew that wasn't right. Even though my MRI was clean, something was still not right. After an unsuccessful round of physical therapy (surprise surprise), the doctor and I decided to try surgery to tighten up the shoulder. He would go in arthroscopically and essentially fold my ligaments in half so that my joint would stop dislocating on its own. But when he went in, he also found that the MRI machine was lying: I had a torn labrum as well. I TOLD YOU! After four years of saying something was wrong, I was finally right. It was a very validating feeling.

So why did I get another MRI on the same shoulder? It's called Courtney Thought She Was Making a Comeback and Now She Needs Another Surgery.

Arthrograms, Seattle, and the day that still haunts me.

Today I had my second arthrogram on my shoulder. An arthrogram is a fancy way of saying a doctor ties you down to a table and inserts a needle into your joint capsule to inject some shit in there to make your MRI more readable. And the reason for the MRI? A possibly torn labrum and/or bicep. Whoops. And I say second arthrogram because I went through these shenanigans two years ago, and ultimately had surgery on it. Oh yeah, I might have busted my stitches from that surgery, too. I guess they weren't Courtney Proof. Or tkachev proof. Or stupid proof. Ugh. Honestly, let's just get the joint replacement surgery over with now, because surely I'm going to need one (or six) eventually.

Uh, oh...I detect...The Story of The Shoulder and Why Courtney Quit Gymnastics and Other Things Too!

The Hierarchy

When I was in high school, I only attended 2 classes at my public school. The rest of my studies were done at home to accommodate my gymnastics schedule. Senior year, I took AP Psychology at public school. My teacher, Ms. Ross, was so cool and smart and awesome that I wanted to be just like her. So I declared my college major as Psychology. That didn't last too long, because I knew I needed to study something more...tangible (but props to Ms. Ross for making psychology so awesome that I thought I could spend my entire life doing it). Like food. Food is certainly tangible.

I decided that I would be a Registered Dietician for young athletes. I knew a lot about nutrition from being a gymnast, and I knew a lot about athletes, too (obviously). It was perfect. So I changed my major to Global and Community Health with a concentration in Nutrition - the closest to Dietetics you can get as an undergrad at George Mason. After the whole eating disorder thing, though, I realized that counting calories and weighing people for a living might not be the best choice I ever made. Meanwhile, my friends Kalvin and Jessica and Angie were applying to the nursing program. "Apply with us! Apply with us!" they pleaded. I ignored them until about 2 seconds after the nursing application deadline, when I realized that nursing could be perfect for me, too. I had wanted to be a surgeon as a kid but gave up on that when I found out how many years I'd be in school (a more accurate reason would be that I'm deathly afraid of math). I also wanted to be a teacher as a kid, but gave up on that when I found out how much - or how little - money they make. But nursing? I could help sick people like I wanted to do as a surgeon, then go to graduate school and become a Nurse Practitioner so I could specialize in kids or athletes, and use nutrition as a heavy component to my practice, and then get my Ph.D when I'm old and burnt out and become a professor of health and nutrition! EUREKA! Obviously the details need to be worked out a little, but that is the general plan. I graduate with my BS in Global and Community Health this Spring, and then it's off to an accelerated nursing program to get my BSN. That is, if I get in. Note to self: start working on my applications.

This is my long way of saying that over the years, I have become very familiar with Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. Maslow was this psychologist dude that realized people are like a cheerleading pyramid. If the bottom layer of the pyramid isn't strong, then the top layer will collapse. Except we aren't really talking about a bunch of girls in impossibly high ponytails. Maslow's hierarchy looks like this:

Basically, we need to master each level before we can focus on the next. It's like gymnastics. You can't do a back handspring, for example, without first mastering the bridge, the handstand, the snap down, and so on and so forth. Or like weightlifting: you can't clean and jerk your body weight without first mastering the individual parts of the movement, and then gradually increasing the weight you lift. This makes perfect sense to me. So then why am I freaking out that I am not reaching self-actualization, when in reality I don't even have the first level down yet? Oh, Courtney.

So I'm minimizing. I have gone from 18 credits at school and two part-time coaching jobs last semester, to 15 credits and NOTHING else this semester. I am even on leave of absence from my once-a-week volunteer position in the ER at a local hospital. It's just me, my books, my barbells, and my brain. And let me tell you, it's horrifying. I have never had this much time to do everything on my to-do lists AND get a decent night's sleep. Seriously, this is completely foreign to me. 

My therapist called this selfish, wish is why I'm looking for a new one, but a lot of other positive people in my life have called this "being 21" and "you do you." Which I am perfectly okay with. A couple of people have suggested to me that the reason I take on so many tasks and keep myself so busy is that if I have free time, I'll be forced to deal with my problems. Uh, duh. I was a big believer in "I'm fine" and "seriously, I'm FINE," all the while praying they wouldn't believe me and sit me down and tell me to stop it already.

Back to Maslow. 

Let's look at physiological: breathing? Yeah, got that down, except for when I'm lifting and sometimes forget to. Working on that. Food? You'd think someone who studies nutrition would have that down too, but it's very much an evolving process figuring out what works for me and what doesn't. My post-rehab eating disorder plan tells me to eat one way, while my cranky digestive system tells me to eat another way. Finding the balance is very much a full time job. Water?  We could all work on drinking more of that. Sleep? I tend to not during the night, and then nap extensively during the day. Clearly not okay. Homeostasis (AKA stability)? HA, if you read my first post, you'll see that the LACK of stability is what is driving me to write this blog in the first place. In the past year, I have moved 3 times, and since my parents' divorce 13 years ago, I have called 14 different places "home." As you can see, stability has not really been a big thing in my life.  

...This is not the profile of someone who is self-actualized. Not at all. Why do I feel like I should have gotten there 5 years ago? Why do I feel like I'm running out of time to be happy? Ugh. 

And that's it, that's my epiphany. 

Or maybe the Hierarchy of Needs looks more like this? (Couldn't resist!)