child of God, wife, mother, recovering anorexic who longs to see the beauty in herself that she sees in the world around her

Monday, November 28, 2011


God has graciously given me an emotional reprieve.  For the last several days, instead of bringing up more of the junk in my heart to work through, He has just showered me with grace.  I love how God knows when we can't take anymore and then cares for us. 

I know this time of just basking in His love is temporary.  I know this simply because my heart still has a lot of refining to do.  Not that He stops loving us, please don't hear that!  It is just simply different right now.  I know the hurts will still be there when I need to keep pursuing healing.  Right now though, I am enjoying laughing again.  Right now my brain knows there are things to work on, but my heart is not heavy.

I am thankful for a break in the hurt.  I am thankful for the opportunity I had today to laugh, fully and loudly.  I am thankful that for this moment in time, even if it turns out to be just a moment, that my heart doesn't hurt so deeply that I swear it could fall out of my body at any second.  It isn't a chore to smile today.  There aren't unshed tears lurking behind my eyes waiting for a chance to spring on me.

I have to blog this today.  I have to remember that God is gracious to me, that He gives me periods of rest in the fray.  I need to remember the next time that life feels unbearable for a period of time so long that I have forgotten what happy feels like, that peace and grace and smiles and laughter will also mark my journey. 

A week ago, I wondered if I'd ever feel joy again.  I wondered how long I could feel like a hot iron was searing into my heart.  I wondered if I was ever going to do more than cope.  And today I know, that though the battle is not over, I still have capacity to feel something besides hurt and lonliness.  And that brings me hope!

Thursday, November 24, 2011


I made it through Thanksgiving with my emotions in tact.  I even didn't think I was going to die from the food.  Ok, I did have to stop thoughts of wanting to purge before they could become a full blown obsession.  It wouldn't have helped anyway, I was blessed/cursed with the inability to throw up.  I would have just gotten more mad at myself that I can't even do that. 

So all in all, it was not the worst day of the year.  I'm alive, I ate and I never considered slapping my parents!

How did you fare this year for Thanksgiving?

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

something worth recovering for

God must have known I needed encouragement.  My little guy "had-ed a bad dweam" and only Mommy's arms seem to make it better.  Isn't he worth the pain of recovery?  Isn't he worth working through the crap so he can have his mommy healthy?

Um, yeah, can't postpone feeling until after Thanksgiving afterall

Tonight on the way to work, those feelings hit me full force.  Yeah, those yucky ones I haven't known what to do with.  Yep, those are the ones.  My anger actually graduated to rage for all of a few minutes, but then I arrived at work and had to pull myself together.  I don't know if that raging moment felt unbelievably good or if it felt absolutely terrifying!

I did the good girl thing I always do.  I pushed the feelings back and settled for just plain grumpy and annoyed.  My body feels very awkward to me.  I feel like the pounds are packing on around my middle.  My clothes all feel uncomfortable to my body.  My son got in trouble at school today.  A professor was rude to me tonight at work.  I had other customers who were thoughtless tonight.  I came home to 2 of my kids still awake and had to put them to bed.  I ran a hot bubble bath but ran out of hot water before I realized it so my bath was warm not hot.  And throw in what seems like PMS symptoms and you have my night.

I'm so hungry.  The tiger is clawing at my tender insides (read this amazing post from Jenn, you'll understand what I am saying) but the pain won't let me give in.  How long will this hurt?  I feel like every time I get through one hard thing, within days something new comes up in my heart.  I have a day, maybe two where I can breathe, then WHAM something else hits my heart and mind full force.  I'm tired of feeling like I always whine.  I'm tired of feeling like orange is winning, or at least that she is not losing.  I hate the days of feeling hungry and not being able to give in.  I much prefer those handfuls of healthy days or even the days when I'm just sick, no hunger, no arguing with myself, and no guilt.

It is a sad day when my desire is to still be sick so that I wouldn't have to hear the dialog in my head.

Saturday, November 19, 2011

handling it

Hubby asked me yesterday how I was handling everything with my parents right now.  I smiled and said, "Oh, I'm not.  I'm not even trying to handle that right now!"  He is wise.  He already knew that answer but gave me the chance to tell him anyway. 

It is nearly Thanksgiving.  I have to spend time with them on Thursday two different times and then again on Friday.  I don't need to keep digging into how I feel about them right before having to smile and pretend everything is just peachy.

So I pretend anyway.  I choose to not dig up or handle how I feel.  It is still pretending.  But it is a different type of pretending.  It is pretending that something is not there rather than pretending that something is fine when it isn't. 

I ate 3 times today.  Not huge meals but still, it was food. 

Friday, November 18, 2011

I play the game

Things are getting under my skin more than normal.  I think it is because being frustrated is about as comfortable as I feel with my anger right now.  Occasionally things will make me angry but not the type of anger that makes me feel scared of my feelings.

One of the things I'm mad about right now is how well I can play the e.d. game.  Yesterday when I was talking with Hubby about some stuff, he was concerned that in taking care of all of the things that need care right now, that I will not take care of me.  But I play the game.  I smile and tell him that won't happen.  All the while knowing that I'm not taking care of myself right now.  I hide my lie well.

Like yesterday when Hubby took me to McDonald's for breakfast, I had the sandwich without even blinking.  Inside I was cringing but couldn't let him know that.  I smiled.  I pretended.  What he doesn't know is that while I faked it , smiling the whole time, that a mocha and a bagel rounded out the rest of my food for the day.  The bagel was a last minute thing simply out of respect for my pregnant friend who I was on the phone with.  Didn't seem fair to her for me to not eat when I know she doesn't feel like it but has to.

And usually my body will give me away but now even my body is playing along.  Rather than losing my sex drive, it has practically doubled.  So he can't tell that way.  When I'm hanging with him, I eat.  So he can't tell that way either.  I'm tired but that isn't really that abnormal.  I am playing my lie well.  I eat, just not enough.  That should make everyone happy right?  I mean they see me eating so they are happy.  And I know that I am not eating as much or as often so I should be happy as well.

But it makes me mad with myself that I hate dishonesty but live a lie.  Somehow, knowing when and what to eat to keep my stomach from betraying my secret by growling has come back as easy as breathing.  Somehow, smiling and pretending has become second nature again. I am doing the minimal amount to maintain.  I'm doing enough to keep questions and worries at bay but I'm not actually wholeheartedly pursuing recovery like I should.

What is the big deal?  Why does food feel like it is the enemy?  Why can't I just get my schtuff together and just do what I need to do???????  My brain can be mad all it wants, it can reprimand me, it can try to tell me it is no big deal.  But my body just can't seem to listen.  That is frustrating.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

I need him

***** I just found this post from May that never got published.  I didn't realize it would publish with today's date if I published it.  It's old news, but I like it :) ********

I need him.  I always have.  It looks a little different now than it did. My needs have morphed over the years.  In the early years, I needed him to help me learn how to not be everyone's door mat.  I needed him to to explain football.  I needed him to run a hot bubble bath and watch 90210 and Party of Five with.  I needed him to take a bus to work so I could drive the car.  I needed him to tell me that I was not at fault when my mom had a grapefruit sized tumor removed from her ovary. I needed him to hold me so I could fall asleep.  I needed him to get upset on my behalf when my boss was being a tool.  I needed him to sleep beside on the super uncomfortable 70's style fold out couch in front of a tiny window air conditioner that was the only cooling source in our tiny apartment.

I needed him to light fires in the fireplace.   I needed him to appreciate my awful cooking.  I needed him to help me not take myself so seriously.  I needed him to be silly with.  I needed him to remind me it was ok to be sick.  I needed him to take me to the hospital for iv fluids when I had the flu and got dehydrated.

I needed him to bring me the baby for an early morning feeding.  I needed him to tell me I was still beautiful even with the baby weight that I just couldn't lose.  I needed him to force me to stay down when I was on modified bed rest and wanted to help out with dinner.  I needed him to be by my side in awe as I delivered our third son myself (in a hospital with a doctor present!).  I needed him during pregnancy to make a no phone calls after 9 pm rule.

 I needed him to carry me to bed when I just couldn't keep my eyes open.  I needed him to take me mini golfing.  I needed him to go to the park and swing with me.  I needed him to tell me his corny trademark joke, that I refer to as his best pick up line ever.  I needed him to hold my hand.

Last year the dynamics changed.  I needed him still but I was now needy.  I needed him to make me call my nutritionist when he did the math and realized my weight loss was already 11% of my body weight.  I needed him to talk me down when my nutritionist and doctor both agreed that I needed to go to the Eating Disorder Center.  I needed him to make sure I was at least attempting to eat.  I tried to hide the clumps of hair, the skeletal looking hips, and the fact that I had also started (unsuccessfully) trying to throw up.  I needed him but didn't want him to know it.

I needed him to come and pick me up at my friend's house and drive me to the local hospital.  I needed him to sit for 9 hours in the emergency room, holding my hand and even climbing up on the e.r. cot with me to hold me while we both tried to sleep.  I needed to see him in our car following the ambulance as they drove me to the mental hospital.  I needed him to hold my hand the whole way up to my unit and to tell me it would be ok, even though I know he wasn't sure.  I needed him to call my pastor so that my pastor could visit me in the hospital since he wasn't allowed every day.  I needed him to call into work for a week and be full time dad while I was in the hospital.  I needed him to make me go to my follow up therapy after the hospital.

I needed him to pick up my slack and take on most of the housework.  I needed him to be the prominent parent for a while.  I needed him to work his 2 jobs, take care of me, take care of our kids and handle the house as well.  I was just plain needy.

Last night I was up late looking for our new license plate stickers when I finally sat down in the middle of the floor for a good long sob.  As I was crumpled up on the floor, I was thinking that it seems so unfair that when the kids are having a rough night that someone can carry them to bed but who was going to carry me?  For a few minutes I even thought how nice it would be if he woke up and came out and, just like he used to do, carry me to bed.  Tonight I realized this, I still need him.  I have needed him to be so many deep things lately that I am missing the little things.

I have needed him to help me in my recovery and sometimes by gently tough with me.  Now, I am ready for the corny jokes, being carried to bed by arms much stronger than mine, playing cards while talking, dancing to a good song just because we want to.


I grew up in a home where anger was repressed and hurt didn't exist if you didn't acknowledge it.  Now I'm an adult and you would think I would give myself permission to feel whatever the hell I want, but sadly no.  I am so confused about how I feel. 

On one hand I know God created every emotion within me.  On the other hand I'm pretty sure that I think somewhere deep inside of me that my emotions are still not ok.  I grew up on this.......

James 1:19-20  My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry,  because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires. 

Ephesians 4: 31-32 Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. 

Ephesians 4:26-27  “In your anger do not sin.  Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry,  and do not give the devil a foothold."

One will tell me that because of the last verse it is ok to be angry as long as you don't sin.  Another will tell me that anger is a sin because of the verses that say to get rid of anger.  And I'm confused.  I hear my parents in my head telling me that my anger is a sin, that it is unjustified, that I'm just too sensitive.  I hear in my head that I'm not allowed to feel.

But then I also know I need to feel in order to heal.  And God created me and my emotions.  He must have intended that I would feel those emotions if He created them in me.  Right?  So why does it feel like a betrayal to myself to feel angry? 

The anger has been ebbing and flowing.  I'm not sure how much of it is natural progression and how much of it is being uncomfortable with the intensity of my emotions and stuffing them down again.  Anger scares me.  It scares me when I see it in others and it TERRIFIES me in myself.  How do I get angry and not sin?  I've been brought up to believe that anger in and of itself is a sin.  Where is the line between being angry and sinning?  Is it wrong that I am starting to feel angry now? 

Hubby tells me that there is a lot of anger that I suppress.  When I tell him I'm frustrated, or even when I graduate to anger, he is never as surprised as I am.  He can't believe it has taken me this long to get angry over some of the things that I realize I am angry over.  He also says that of course the feelings are overwhelming; I've been denying them my entire life and now they want out! 

What's a good girl to do with negative emotions?  Why do they still feel so wrong to experience?

painful realization # 3,762

So yesterday some more issues at the core of my heart came to light.  My entire life I have held my mom indirectly responsible for the abuse that happened to me.  I have absolved my dad from any guilt.  What little girl wants to not see her daddy in a hero light anymore?  Last night I realized something.  I am angry with my dad.

This is a very new feeling for me.  I have defended my dad fiercely for my entire life.  And now I am realizing that I felt just as unprotected from him as I did from my mom.  My dad is a great guy but he has not much in the line of a backbone.  My mom rules her house.  He is not the head of his house.  She speaks, he does.  Sometimes begrudgingly but none the less his hatred of conflict outweighs mine and he always does what she wants. 

I told Hubby last night that I was frustrated with something my dad did.  Hubby validated my feelings.  I thought I was being sensitive.  Hubby told me it is my dad being insensitive, not me being sensitive.  I started to feel angry.  I felt uncertain of the strength of my anger.  It has been repressed for so long that I was shocked by the intensity of my feelings.

I am at the difficult reality that my dad is not perfect.  He is a good man.  But some of the hero status has left him.  I would continue to live in denial if I did not acknowledge that he too played a part in this.  I am hurt by his actions, both now and in the past.  I am hurt that he never listened to what his gut was telling him and didn't stand up to my mom when she insisted that I go over to the abusers house.  He never liked those people and yet he couldn't stand up to my mom and defend me.  As a matter of fact, they would have been my legal guardians if anything would have happened to my parents when I was a child.

It is a painful realization to know that my daddy isn't perfect and that he too shares in the responsibility of not protecting his daughter.

Monday, November 14, 2011

feeling betrayed

Maybe it shouldn't bug me.  Shouldn't bother me at all. 

but. it. does.

None of my business if they want to remain friends.  Doesn't affect my life.  Doesn't mean I have to be friends with them.

so why does this hurt like hell?  why do I feel so betrayed? 

maybe it is none of my business, but I still feel like I just don't matter to them as much as what others think of them does.  Others opinions and keeping up a good appearance matters more than I do.  It always has.  I should be used to it by now.

sadly. I. am. not.

Friday, November 11, 2011

temperamental life coaching

I just spoke with a life coach about my "friend".  Yes, I talked to him about me.  And, yes, I am that big of a weenie that I didn't tell him we were talking about me.  I'm pretty sure he knew though.  I thought if we were on the phone, he would buy my story as my friends rather than my own.  Now I chuckle at myself.  We were on the stinkin phone not face to face, why on earth was I scared to tell him that it was my life that is so messed up, not my friends?

I've been studying temperaments a lot lately.  So far, the person I have resonated with the most has been Ray W. Lincoln (click here for his website).  In doing the temperament test, I am a NF.  In a nutshell, that describes me better than I ever could.  I am part of only 4% of the population who have this temperament.  It is characterized by deep introspection, perfection tendencies, idealism, and deep sensitivity.  As I have been studying the 4 temperaments (NF, NT, SP and SJ), I began to see some patterns. It seemed to me that the NF has the most to lose emotionally from deep trauma and has the hardest time to moving past it, so I emailed Ray and asked if this was true. He agreed.

My next question was how do you help anyone recover from trauma but especially a NF who internalizes it more than the others.  In telling him my "friend's" story he told me that my friend probably needs some professional help.  While I could help to raise her spirits and that would help on a temporary level, she needs more.  She needs help continuing to see hope for the future.  When she doesn't see a calling, a passion a hope for the future, she will spiral into deep depression.  The cycle will continue.  Giving her a break from her atmosphere, bringing beauty to her life, and helping her to see hope for tomorrow will help but only temporarily.  The trauma must be dealt with so that she can be who God created her to be on the inside.

I know this.  I live this.  I do better for a time, then I spiral out of control to such a dark place that I forget what light looks like.  I guess I had hoped that someone would tell me an easy way to do this.  I guess I had hoped that someone would just say, "Oh yeah, you can do this.  No big deal, you'll make it through on your own."  Somehow that is not the case.  The universal consensus from everyone I talk to is that I need help getting through this.  My psychiatrist says I'm looking better than the last time I saw him but still recommends that I seek professional help in the form of EMDR, counseling, or coaching.  My PCP recommends that I get professional help.  So I know that I need to get help, why am I dragging my feet so much on actually doing it?  What am I so afraid of?

I'm interested to hear what temperament types others fall into.  If you feel like taking the temperament quiz in the link above (it takes about 10 min), would you mind sharing with me what your temperament is? (to get to the test, go to the this link.  Add the temperament test to your shopping cart, IT IS FREE.)

Thursday, November 10, 2011

new day, new mercy

Lamentations 3:22-23
 22 Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,
   for his compassions never fail.
23 They are new every morning;
   great is your faithfulness. 

I blew it yesterday.  And today is a new day.  Today He gives me new mercy.

Psalm 143:7-8
7 Answer me quickly, LORD;
   my spirit fails.
Do not hide your face from me
   or I will be like those who go down to the pit.
8 Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love,
   for I have put my trust in you.

Show me the way I should go,
   for to you I entrust my life.

Lord, help me today to honor you with my body and with my choices.  Let your love keep me from being consumed with the hurt and hatred that try to overtake my heart.  I am so glad that You remain faithful even when I am not.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

intuitive eating

The concept of intuitive eating is a really good one.  I like the idea of eating when I'm hungry, giving my body what it asks for and stopping when I'm full.  Here's my problem, I have ignored my hunger cues long enough that I don't think my body always does know best.  Today for instance, I haven't been hungry at all.  Ok, take that back.  I did feel a little hungry earlier, but it felt AMAZING!  I guess it is hard to trust my own body because I like the euphoria I feel right now, a euphoria induced by having not eaten today.  I need to take care of my body, but I just don't feel like it.  I know this won't keep feeling good, but it does now. 

I feel somewhat guilty that since I'm not being checked on that I haven't been keeping my promise to Hubby.  I rationalize it away but deep down, I know that the promise to eat was not a temporary one.  My meals have been inconsistent and I know that.  I need to want to eat for myself.  Eating out of desire to make my family happy and not worried is only going to take me so far.  At some point I have to be able to eat without being monitored.  I usually do for a time but it is so easy to fall back into old habits and addictions.

Monday, November 7, 2011

when profound thoughts wound

****Blogger is pissing me off tonight, changing some of my stuff and rather than ensure the post is the perfect way I want it, I'm deciding to say screw it and post anyway.  I guess we'll just call it a step toward beating perfectionism..... *****

Today I had a very profound thought, one I'm not so sure I like.  I could tell you all the steps that led to it but then you would have to follow the incoherency of my thoughts as I put them together.  The end result is this...

Romans 5:8 But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. 


This is a verse that brings me much comfort.  While I was still lost in sin, Christ came for me and died for me.  He came because He loved me enough to want to save me from the wickedness of my own heart.


And today this same verse brought me much grief.  While my attackers were still sinning against me, Christ died for them.  Someone on the radio mentioned the book The Shack.  I haven't read it yet so I don't know if this is a spoiler alert or not, but she mentioned that God loved the victim and God also loved the perpetrator.  I am so glad that I left my youngest at home and was not quite to my older kids school yet when I realized that God loves the men who hurt me.


That thought made me really angry.  God, how could you love them?  Didn't you see what they did to me?  How can you love me and hurt with me and yet love the ones who hurt me?  This isn't right.  This isn't ok with me.  How can I believe that you love me when you love them?  How can you love us both?  I felt like my breath had been stolen away.  It couldn't be possible.  Of course, I believe that Jesus came for everyone.  Of course, I have always been a person who believes He can redeem anyone.  And today, He asked me to believe that He came for those men just as much as He came for me.


 That is a big pill to swallow.  Angry and hurt I said out loud, God loves........but I couldn't even finish and say his name.  I tried again with the next one, God loves.....but I still couldn't finish it.   I spent some time alone this evening.  In my car I kept asking how God could love us both, it just doesn't make sense.  I felt like God was telling me that they are His children too.  I wouldn't stop loving one of my children if they hurt one of the others.  I tried to argue that point.  My boys wouldn't do this to each other.  But if they did, wouldn't I still love them? After a bit of driving, questioning and arguing I came home to my family, still ill at ease with a God who could love me and yet still love them, especially  him


Sadly tonight, God did use my boys to illustrate.  I left the room for a few minutes and suddenly my middle son was knocking on my door crying saying his big brother had punched him in the eye over and over again.  His eye looks it.  It is red and puffy and has the possibility of a black eye in the making.  The oldest tried to tell me it was an accident, he was stretching and his brother was behind him and got hit.  No way in heck this was unintentional. There is no way that someone simply stretching could make a mark like this.  


 I took care of my little boy, got him ice for his eye and comforted him.  And then I comforted the older one who was now crying "I'm the worst big brother in the entire world."  Was I mad that the older one hurt his brother? Um, YEAH!  Was I hurt for my little guy who was crying?  Absolutely, no mother could not hurt for her child when he cries in her arms.  I was hurt and angry that someone had hurt my child.  But did my love for my oldest ever lessen?  Not for a second.  I was angry with him, I was hurt for his brother but I never stopped loving him.


Somehow, I have to come to terms with the fact that these men are just as much God's children as I am.  Somehow I need to reconcile inside of myself that God loves them.  Even though He was hurt and angry that they hurt me, they are still His creation and His love didn't wane though His anger flared.  Somehow I am needing to absorb the knowledge that God was never ok with what happened to me and that I am not the only one that He never stopped loving. What a painful reality this is.


God, give me the grace to walk through this.  Minister to my heart, it is bruised and battered.  

Thursday, November 3, 2011

weight gain *dislike*

Thanks to Hubby's "and" rule, I just had some peanut butter and milk with my banana.  I didn't exactly feel thrilled about that.  I have scoured the leaflet about my latest medicine.  I was convinced that I would find weight gain as one of the side affects.  But, no, there is not one word about weight gain in any form (even by increased appetite).  If anything the opposite should be true because nausea, vomiting and diarrhea are common side affects.  I have no vomiting or diarrhea.  I have no increased appetite.  I do, however, have more around my middle than I did have.  Not liking that!

I had been eager for my period to start this month because it always cures the "fat blues".  Unfortunately, this month when my period came, the pooch didn't go away.  I'm convinced that I look pregnant, though everyone else is too kind to agree.  It didn't used to be about my body looking a certain way.  It used to be about hurt and control and numbness.  It still centers on those things but somewhere along the way, how my body looks and feels has also become a bigger issue.  It used to be just to cope.  When did that change?  Why did that change?

I'm in the low phase of my "body bi-polar".  Body bi-polar,you know, when one day you can look in the mirror and say, "Ok, if this is as good as it gets, I'm ok with that" vs. "I can't live in this body.  It feels so foreign to me and looks so hideous!"  I'm in the second one.

I just can't get past the line in the song I shared that says, "Those damaged goods you see, in your reflection.  Love sees it differently, love sees perfection."  How?  How can love, that of my Savior and that of my husband see perfection?  Wish I could see what they see.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

music for the soul

I love music.  It speaks to me.  It soothes me.  It heals me.  I have, however, stopped listening to it for the most part.  Somewhere along the line I began to prefer the quiet.  I think that for a while, music touched me too deeply.  It made me so aware of the fact that I wasn't whole.  Music would touch my soul but I was too hurt to dance so I quit playing the music.  If there wasn't music, then my emptiness somehow felt less.  Somehow I could pretend that my heart wasn't breaking if I could avoid music and its beautiful power.  Every so often I would listen to a song or two.  My morning alarm, a link sent by a friend and random things like that. 

Last week we had our first snow here.  I discovered last week while I was driving home from work that my car feels far too quiet inside while driving in the snow.  The silence was actually distracting so I turned on the radio.  It was pleasant and it was shallow, perfect.  The snow melted the next day (as usually happens here in Colorado) as did my desire for "noise" in the car.  Guess what?  It snowed again tonight.  My car was eerily quite and I turned on the radio.  Talk, commercial, not really in the mood for that song and finally KLOVE. 

The music was fine for a snowy drive and so far, still shallow.  But right as I was nearly home a song came on that touched my soul.  There was a strange ache to feel moved by music again.  So tonight's YouTube playlist was
  • All of Me by Matt Hamitt
  • Strong Enough by Matthew West
  • Remind Me of Who I Am by Jason Gray
  • Nothing is Wasted by Jason Gray
  • Rest by Downhere
  • You're Not Alone by Downhere
  • Beautiful by Mercy Me
And then this one........

I had heard this song live on the radio before the single had even been released.  I cried then.  And I cried tonight.  And I cried a little more.  And I cried a little more.  And I realize the reason I've been shutting out music, it makes me feel things I don't like feeling.  It brings things to life in me, some of those things I prefer to keep buried.  Tonight I will listen.  Tonight I will feel.  Tonight I will let music heal in the way that only it can.