Your weakness is also your strength

Use a paper, your phone notes, your computer, the back of a receipt, your arm, a napkin; anything that you can write on. Jot this down & think about it. ✨
Journaling truly changed my life. I stopped allowing myself to hide from quiet moments where I was too afraid to be alone with my thoughts and, instead, wrote them down. It’s not something that anyone “wants” to do necessarily, especially when they’ve been accumulating so much negative self talk & hate for themselves over years of suffering. But that’s one of those “choosing recovery” moments. You have to know yourself to save yourself. ✨
This question is one that really put me off when I was early in my recovery. I didn’t want to admit that I had a weakness, even if I would tell myself my weaknesses in my head all the time. Writing it down on paper was too vulnerable & too close to letting anyone know (even if no one read my journal) that I wasn’t perfect. ✨
My greatest weakness is my empathy & care for others. It has been the driving force of destruction in a lot of my relationships. I care so much that the other person becomes so important to me that I am constantly wanting to take care of them. I forget to take care of me. I lose touch with myself, and then I lose the person when I try to step down from 100% there to 50% there. It’s been a pattern that has repeated itself for my entire life.
My empathy and care for others is also my greatest strength. I found that the best way to stay true to myself and my love for service & making others happy is to reserve those acts for strangers or people who I do not have long relationships with. Every day, I make at least one random person that I interact with happy, and it’s not to feel good about myself. It’s because I feel drawn to them, and connected with their feelings. I feel empathy.

Sometimes it turns out to be extremely detrimental for my own wellbeing & relationships, but a lot of the time it is something that makes me happy to be who I am. A true empathetic heart is hard to come across. & it’s taken me a LONG time to admit it, but I was born with that heart. And that’s pretty freakin awesome. ✨
#beautyproject

Poison by Amanda M.

“The air I’m breathing is toxic. As soon as it enters through my nasal airways, as it goes down my esophagus entering into my lungs, it turns into poison. Filling up the emptiness, the hallow spaces in my stomach. My chest. My heart. My veins. It’s as pure as innocence of a child at first. Until it meets my thoughts. Until it meets my inner demons. As soon as it touches me. As soon as it enters me. The pure air never leaves pure again as I exhale. It has been poisoned. I have poisoned it. And I am filled with sorrow and panic when I feel the air fluctuating through my lungs. My body is working so hard to keep itself alive. While my mind is trying to kill itself. It’s quite the irony you see. Both ends fight just as hard as the other but I feel both ends exhausting more and more at each end of each day. It’s a race to see who’s going to get to the finish line first. One step in front of the other.”

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Christmas Poem for Momma

 

It’s not all the times

when I hear children laughing,

watch families embracing

across a wintry park

or see lovers holding hands

in a busy cafe

that makes me miss you most.

It’s not all the times

when I hear a sad song,

your song

any song

that makes me miss you most.

It’s every time

that I want to

reach out and tell you

how much I love you

or simply that

you’re my angel

that’s when I miss you most.

©2015 Nikki DuBose

In honor of our late mother, Sandy Cargile.

We love and miss you mom.

Love,

Nikki and Anthony.

 

Supporting Others in Recovery from Bulimia Through a Mentoring Program

“If it weren’t for the continuous support of my online mentor, Monica, I’d probably be dead. After seventeen years of binge eating, bulimia and anorexia, I’d blown through all the money I had made as a successful fashion model. For most of my adult life I didn’t have insurance, and receiving care at a treatment center appeared to be out of the question. When my anorexia and bulimia were at their worst, I was afraid to continue showing my face in twelve-step meetings, so I sought help online.

 

Online. I felt hopeless – could this possibly work? I prayed as I spilled out my soul in the message to a Christian group and hit the “send” button, and surprisingly, within a few hours, I had a response. Not only was Monica understanding, but her words were infused with love and confidence. She had faith in my recovery, no questions asked.”

Read more on Eating Disorder Hope.