Tuesday night I that Epiphany and that light bulb appeared. Later that evening, I lay in bed and it all started to click. I wrote the following:

It's all starting to make sense. I hear my brother playing a beautiful melody on the piano. He is so talented. I could create music like that too, if I allowed myself to try. I smell the warmth from my mother's roasted chicken that fills the entire house. I could probably try that too.
Though physically I am terribly weak and mentally I 'should be' exhausted after this long, emotional day-- I actually feel the strongest I've felt in a long time.
Today I've realized God is on my side. Perhaps I've been too distracted to notice, and for that I am sorry.
But I'm done saying sorry. God and I have some serious work to do.
I feel as if my soul has been found and my spirits have been lifted. I don't need an eating disorder. I have all the tools and coping mechanisms I could possibly need to help me fully recover. In fact, I am beginning to believe that my ED is a 'cop out'. Eating disorders are the easy way out from dealing with real emotions, feelings and thoughts. Well, I am ready to face my fears and deal with what life throws at me, just like many do. Not only have I been taught the tools necessary to succeed, but I have been blessed to have more (as I smile and cry just thinking about what I am fortunate to have). I have my soulmates. They have stood by my side through it all. Some are waiting for me to return to Pittsburgh and others are waiting for me to get over this "fluke-of-a-flu". But they have missed me. And they need me. No, I am not worthless.  I share beautiful relationships with every person who is currently in my life. For those who aren't, they clearly didn't deserve to be. I also have two crazy siblings who fear for me-- only because they care too much. They have become my best friends. And what parents would tell their daughter, "Money is not an issue, don't you worry", when in reality it is. 
But most importantly, I have me, which is beautiful, special and sacred. NO one can take 'me' away from myself. No one. During my stay at Princeton I went through a lot of self discovery, and tonight I ask myself again, "Who am I?" 

• I am a musician
• I am a volunteer
• I am a caregiver
• I am a student
• I am a hardworker
• I am a friend
• I am a daughter
• I am a relative
• I am a Jew
• I am a fighter
• And I am beautiful. 

I am angry. I have lay in a bed for four days now unable to take care of myself. I have relied on my mother and brother to beckon my every need. I hate it. Every muscle is stiff and every joint hurts. My head hasn't stopped pounding since Saturday night, and this anger has only made it worse. I loathe myself. God, why can't  you be on my side these next two weeks? I need to gain 6 pounds by January 2. And look at all that's been played against me:

• I'm sick, hence loss of appetite
• My sleeping schedule is all messed up now, so I have no way to ensure I get five, planned meals a day
• I feel like a lazy, BUM strapped down in a straight jacket-- lack of movement doesn't help my feelings about body image

Today might be a blessing in disguise. I woke up to the beautiful sound of silence, which could only have meant one thing-- snow was falling. Though I discover beauty and excitement, others associate snowfall with hard labor, sick children and cold, harsh days. Yes, to many this blizzard will be more of a hassle than a winter wonderland. As I focus on recovery, I decided to embrace the snowed-in day with inquisition and wonder. Curiosity prompted me to ask my sister what she thought when she looked out our living room window:
"I think of equality..." she tells me. "...because everything looks the same-- it's all blanketed in white." I was intrigued, and impressed, to say the least. The trees, cars, lawns and rooftops are all white, white as far as you can see. White blankets cover all that may be different to look the same. Consequently, I found this passage written by the brilliant William Faulkner:

The moment I wake up, before I let my mind wander into the depths of my imagination, I place both feet firmly into the floor and raise my arms as straight and high as I can. This very basic stretch reminds me to stay grounded. When I am grounded, I am present.

Today, my fate will be determined. I will finally find out whether or not I can return to school in January for spring semester. My fingers are crossed and I am warmed by the purple scarf Brittni gave me with hope it will assure some luck. Yesterday I was quite baffled when I stepped on the scale at my nutritionist's office. She sighed and gave me a look that suggested with disappointment, "Rebecca, what happened?!". It's incredible how easily my weight fluctuates. And what's more phenomenal is how easily my mind plays tricks on me. I thought, for sure, I had gained weight over the past week-- there were very minimal (if any) doubts. I suppose it takes time for the delusions to disappear. When I woke up this morning, rather than panic about the weight loss and its effect on today's decision, I made sure to engage in several yoga poses-- to keep me grounded. Alas, the moment has finally come. I am about to be granted or denied my freedom towards a better life. Despite any decision, I must remember to stay grounded. And to breathe.


...I'm back. I'm overwhelmed. I did not stay grounded. Tears were shed, voices were raised, hope was lost. I feel like a failure (though I know deep down I am not). Are all chances of going back to my life gone? I hope not. Can I do it? I sure hope so. Am I scared? Definitely. Today I was told I have to reach my minimum goal weight in two weeks time, if  I should be allowed to return to school. If I don't reach that goal, my team, family and I will have to consider other options. The words 'residential' and 'Princeton' came up too often and started to sound too convincing. To be honest, I have to gain quite a bit of weight and I am terrified. But I will do everything I possibly can to try and reach their benchmark. I am an emotional mess right now (it's ugly, trust me), so I've decided I am going to take some time (aka until I feel inspired again--could be just a few days, heh) away from writing to fully focus on recovery and reality. Am I truly ready to return to school? Do I need a higher level of care? How am I going to reach this goal weight in two weeks? There is great uncertainty in this short amount of time. 

I appreciate the continued support from friends (bloggers included!) and family. You all have helped me get this far, and I need you to stick with me over the next couple of weeks. Feel free to e-mail/facebook/call me anytime, as I hope to grow and maintain a relationship with each and every one of you. For those who find themselves struggling, just remember this:

Thanks again, hope to be back soon.-- Don't forget to smile. 

Note to Self: Make me s'more when I feel down:
1. mix Stonyfield's french vanilla with 1T cinnamon raisin swirl pb and a chopped banana
2. add a pinch of dark chocolate cocoa powder
3. place in freezer for 5-10 minutes to thicken
4. graciously pour cereal (today I chose Fiber 1 Honey Clusters) and mix well
5. stir in a few mini marshmallows

After an emotionally challenging week, I was anxious for my weekend getaway to begin. I was cruising down I-95, singing and dancing along to Christmas tunes (and providing a good laugh for the cars around me) with a smile on my face. I couldn't help but think about my gratitude for the brilliant, beautiful people  who have given up part of their lives to help save mine. And I could not wait to see my gorgeous cousins followed by a stay with a friend in D.C. Yes, my weekend was going to be memorable-- a step in the right direction.

Less than 36 hours later I found myself on the interstate, once again, heading north-- Yes, north. All I wanted was a chance to escape for a while. I wanted to feel good and I wanted to think purely. But I suppose that wasn't in the cards for this trip. I was disappointed, let down and embarrassed. I felt feel like a fool; 'You should have known better, Rebecca.' The dark, quiet journey home seemed infinite. I thought I'd never make it to the end of the tunnel. But alas, I did. And when I pulled into the driveway, I wanted nothing more than to hide under the covers, fall asleep and dream of an alternate reality. The reality of the situation is difficult for me to accept because I was let down, I am alone and on my own. Yep, I'm stuck with myself and I am angry. Nonetheless, I am me, which must be enough, right? Vulnerability does not equate to weakness, and as reinforced by my best friend, Carly, I was reminded that I am anything but weak and dependent (though I feel contrarily so).

Despite the pain I feel deep within my heart and soul, I have found a way to learn from and accept the experience. Though I may not comprehend what happened this weekend, strength was on my side. I stood up for and took care of myself-- this time, I put myself first (something which doesn't happen very often). And I have no regrets nor do I feel any guilt. I may have been shot, but I am certain all wounds heal, as my strength is restored.

This post is disorganized and scattered-minded because there is a whirlwind of twisted thoughts I am trying to sort through. Truth be told, I am tired. Tired of being strong, and tired of trying. But I suppose this is the reality I am so afraid to face. Giving up would only result in an extended absence from school, my friends and my life, so I 'have to' try. I feel forced to proceed.

My goal for today is to embrace the new week without holding grudges. I will try to let it be, and let all battle wounds heal, remembering everything happens for a reason. I will start the day enjoying a bowl of my interpretation on classic s'mores-- uh, YUM.