Separating From Ed

     It's not just my story. It's not just your story. None of us are a single, isolated individual. We don't exist in a world where it is just you or only me. We live in a place where life involves crossing paths, meeting, change, and dynamic possibilities. Our worlds collide in beautiful, God-ordained ways. We intertwine, mix, mingle, and influence one another. When we talk or get together, we impact each other. Made with the YouVersion Bible app      There's no way this is just my story. You see, my story involves so many others. To claim my life as completely my own or solely belonging to me, I forget that those closest to me, and even those that seem to be far away, distant, or opposite me, had a profound effect on me, my life, and my story.      The concept is simple. I am not a entity on my own. I am the product of those who made me, those who raised me, those who taught me, grew up with me, befriended me, pushed me, challenged me, and...

A list of things that you can not tell about someone by looking at them on the outside: Weight Blood pressure Blood sugar Health status Mental battles Relationships Bodily functions If they feel safe What they believe What they don't believe Internal wounds and scars What they are holding back How they feel on the inside What they are afraid of How they cope What they hide behind their smile How many times they have been in a hospital or treatment center What their quality of life was growing up How frequently they were bullied How attentively they manage their conditions Who they trust How and why they choose to do certain things The last time they cried When they needed the most help What thoughts plague them at night Where they want to head in life What breaks their heart How they cope with stress If they need therapy If they attend therapy Their goals Their dreams Ambitions, hopes, achievements, and downfalls When they feel pride or confide...

Hi all! Welcome to my blog where I journal about my faith, my recovery, food, childhood experiences, and more! Reddit r/IAmA 12/29/2019 6:55PM PST U/alcatk

     I've known since I was two years old that I was supposed to be a mom when I grew up. Having a brother almost three years younger than me was so exciting. I was over the moon caring for him, helping him and my parents, and being his friend. He has always one of the greatest loves and joys of my life and has inspired me to parent.      The amount of love that I have for Quin is ridiculous compared to many sibling groups. I love that guy incredibly. We have pictures of me around two or three years old pretending to be pregnant, and embarrassingly enough, a video of my "nursing" my dolls at age four. Seeing my mom pregnant and then having this beautiful new baby were things that I always aspired to be and have throughout my life.       While I was growing up, I never knew what I wanted to be or do when I grew up besides being a mom. Many people criticized me for wanting to be a stay at home mom. In high school, I got told that I would be "...

     I am not perfect. I never have been and I never will be. I know this, but deep inside of me, I still long to get as close to perfect as possible.      Jesus knows all about me, my imperfections, mistakes, and shortcomings. He knows it all. He knows when I slip up. He knows when I say, do, or think something that I shouldn't. He is aware of all of my thoughts. He knows when I want to obey Ed, act on a behavior, treat someone in an unkind manner, or think about harming myself. He knows that I was on and off in a deep depression seasonally when I was a teenager and in college. He knows the thoughts I have had about killing myself, the thoughts about cutting, the thoughts of restriction, and the ideas of poisonings I have had. He knows of every time I thought of driving off of the road to end it all. He knows about how grieved I was due to the appearance of my teeth prior to braces. He knows that I wanted to be gone instead of live in the shame and ridicu...

Dad,      You didn't mean to, but you terrified me as a child. Not in who you are or what you did, but through your words. It wasn't in the sense of threatening to abuse me, verbally harass me, emotionally harm or intentionally neglect me. It was in the joking. I didn't know you were joking sometimes, and I took your wording seriously.      I was afraid. I remember being scared of the following things, but you never knew: That you would make us go over a dam in the canoe That I had to finish things that I started That you would be disappointed when I quit volleyball That you would allow doctors to hurt and scare me That you loved Quin more That you would tell your coworkers secrets about me That you would tell my private information to the relatives Having to touch something dirty or dangerous Getting hurt by sporting equipment Not feeling protected Being left home alone when I wasn't ready for that      I'm sure there are ...

     In my last post ( Be Proud ), I discussed the agony of repressed feelings, the lostness found in being alone, the lack of confidence felt as a youth, and the hopelessness faced through invalidation. Hope is something that we all need in our lives. Without it, we lack purpose and the drive to keep going. A life that ceases to have hope likewise ceases to have joy, pleasure, and peace. It lacks the ability to comprehend that life can or ever will get better. Without hope, we in turn lack the faith needed to push through hard times, get through the struggles, and believe that there is something greater on the other side.      When I felt hopeless against the people (adults and peers) in my life, I wasn't absolutely positive that things would get better, I only knew that I had to maintain faith that it would improve. Yet, you see, faith and hope are not mutually exclusive. Many people have hope without a faith and plenty of people maintain faith, while d...

     For most of my life, I have been taught to repress negative feelings. Feelings of sadness, inadequacy, hopelessness, loneliness, depression. In my darkest hours, I have felt unable to share the truly harmful thoughts with those closest to me. My pain, regret, struggles, and hurts have felt like they were mine and mine alone to bear.      Recently, I recalled a phrase that was said throughout my childhood. "I'm the only one allowed to be upset in this family." Or, "I'm the only one allowed to cry in this family." Substitute upset or cry with other words such as "get angry" or the like. These expressions were not something that caused trauma while I was growing up, however, when I remembered them a few weeks ago, some things stuck with me. Not only were these phrases inaccurate (because everyone can and does have feelings and is actually allowed to), they were also incredibly invalidating. The person who said these things in my life and my hom...

Dear Jesus,      You, Lord, are beautiful. You know when I sit and when I rise. You perceive my thoughts from afar. Before a word is on my tongue, You know it completely, O, Lord. Your ways are always good and always higher than mine. Your plans are far beyond anything that I could ever do for myself. You hem me in behind and before. You created me in my mother's womb and wove me together in the depths of the earth.      Lord, despite knowing all about me, You still choose to love me. You are miraculous. What other god would love unconditionally? All of my faults and mistakes are obliterated in Your presence because of Your blood. Your blood is life. When it left Your body, it made me new, whole, and clean. Lord, my God, I can't thank You enough.      You are powerful and mighty, Lord. You are good. You are strong, holy, and worthy to be praised. Nothing I could ever do or not do makes You love me any more or any less. You love me as I ...

A poem about my 7th grade year: Being in 7th grade was fun. I spent a lot of time with my teachers. Sports were pretty big to me. Volleyball, basketball, and track. I didn't have any friends. People were mean to me and teased me for how I dressed and looked. I felt ugly and unloved. I felt unworthy of friendship and companionship. I remember writing poems about Sara, Mr. Bonds, and school. I remember making "families" with Garrett being "Niger." I remember Miley Cyrus stories and Homework Free Passes. I remember Ms. Barsotti and lots of changes. A poem from my third round of 7th grade (with two years of assisting): Pumpkin patch. Loftus. Drama. Running around. Playing games. Back walk overs. Pirates, scavenger hunts, and Hometown Buffet. Music videos. Raps and parks. Times tests. I started this blog as a memoir to share some of my life stories with you. My goal is that these encourage and educate you on how to live a more j...

     For as long as I can remember, I have always felt awkward receiving presents. I can recall being three years old and getting embarrassed when I received a doctor's kit for Christmas one year. Maybe I felt somewhat afraid or ashamed (the issues revolving around doctors are for another day), but I remember trying to give my brother the present and my parents said that it was actually meant for me. Image from Pinterest      Last Christmas, my in-laws gave me seven presents. That's right, SEVEN. I'm not even their kid! Coming from a family where my parents would typically give around 3 presents, I was blown away. Who has the kind of money to do that? Answer is: my in-laws kicked us off of their phone plan (which we were paying our agreed upon amount for) the month before, so I guess that is where the money "came from," which is a whole other topic.      Receiving so many gifts in itself was overwhelming. I was not prepared for that man...

     Church of the small things.      Now you know that my favorite new author is Melanie Shankle, the author of "Sparkly Green Earrings," "The Antelope in the Living Room," "Nobody's Cuter than You," and of course, "Church of the Small Things," a Bible Study devotional that I recently went through with the ladies at my church. "Church of the Small Things" empathizes the divinity and power in small, seemingly inconsequential moments. The book revolves around seeing how God uses the things in our lives, like packing a lunch or helping someone, to make a difference in the Kingdom of God.      Since I liked Melanie so much from the "Church of the Small Things" companion book that I borrowed from the library, I decided to read her other books, too. "Nobody's Cuter than You" is a memoir on friendship in which Melanie describes all of the meaningful relationships that she's had in her lifetime, starting fro...

     Hey, y'all,  I recently discovered my new favorite way to eat, no, devour , carrots that I had to share with you all. It is so easy, too, which makes it even better.      We received an "indoor grill" as one of our wedding presents (thank you Taylor and Misha!) last year since we had placed it our one of our registries. I'll be honest, we don't get it out very often which is probably due to two things: 1) I make a lot of crockpot meals and 2) Growing up, my family primarily only used our George Foreman for turkey of ground beef burgers, never anything else. But, when I decided to cook some chicken on it recently, I thought I would add some vegetables, too. Best idea I had all week.      I originally was trying to come up with a way to make grilled vegetables how my dad makes them on his outside grill. It is one of my favorite side dishes ever that he makes and it is so simple. We typically cut up potatoes, carrots, and onions, a...

  Some of the kids I work with wrote these AVID (Advancement Via Individual Determination) poems recently about what they will do as a freshman in college. I decided to write my own. It's important to note that I am not in this space at this time, although. I AM a freshman at Western Oregon University My mother would describe me as a good child, pretty, and a great sister. My friends would describe me as not their friend. I keep the photos of my family on the corkboard in my dorm room and the material I learned in high school focused in my mind. I remember how to take notes and the basics of biology. I've learned that most of my classes are a waste of my money and that "dorms" should be called "residence halls." I hide that I am breaking inside. I read parts of my textbooks and "Winning Everyday." I shout, “hi!” when I see someone I know and like across campus. I AM a freshman at Western Oregon University. I see my b...

     I think it is about time that I wrote about how much I love Jesus, although, I'm not sure that I can actually write all of that in words. Jesus is incredibly indescribable and words from the human language are limited. I am going to try to tell some of my stories, anyways.      I want to take some time to tell about and thank a few crucial people and organizations that have dramatically influenced my walk and life with Jesus. I first was introduced to the concept of sin and the need for a Savior who offers redemption in a formal setting at an A.W.A.N.A. club when I was three years old. I have fond memories of the singing, dancing, memory verse time, and Bible lessons on the felt story boards. Then, when I was in elementary school, I attended Release Time, which is apart of Child Evangelism Fellowship (CEF). It was there that I truly know and remember committing my life to Christ, confessing my sins, and accepting Him into my heart.     ...

     The first story that comes to my mind when someone asks me to tell about a childhood memory or something funny that has happened in my life is easy to think of. The kids that I work with at school have been writing memoirs lately, and to give them ideas, I like to tell the following story:      One time when I was about six years old, I went sledding with my dad, uncle, younger brother, and maybe one of my cousins. My family was visiting my dad's parents and brothers in Minnesota for Christmas. One of my uncles, Dan, lives near a park reserve that has a large hill that is now used for tubing. However, back in the day, it was just a hill, some trees, and wildlife. Source: http://thescopepopculturescience.blogspot.com      We trekked the long eighth of a mile (yes, I used runkeeper.com to figure this out) from Uncle Dan's house to the hill and waddled to the top (hello, Christmas Story). It was decided that since my brother ...

02/25/2018      One thing I clearly remember from my childhood is having wonderful, delicious Stoffer’s Lasagna with Meat and Sauce often on Sundays after church. My mom would make a “family size” tray of it in case my older sisters would come down to our house (making six people total in our immediate family). There was always plenty of food, whether or not my sisters came over. I have fond memories of eating lasagna with my family regularly.      A few months after I got married and we moved into our own place, I had a strong craving for lasagna, but I wanted to make it homemade. As my blog name states, I am a little bit of a “whole grain freak.” I went to a well known “fresh-format” grocery store with my roommate/best friend that I presumed would have the type of noodles I was looking for. We didn’t find any, so we went to our version of Cub Foods and searched and searched for the ingredients I was looking for (has anyone else never had ricotta chee...