All you need is love. (Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love.)

I’ve been thinking of writing this particularly personal, and difficult, blog post for a while. But it wasn’t until I read about “To Write Love on her arm” on Facebook, and their vision, that I decided to actually write about it. Andrew asked me, when I admitted I was thinking of talking about it, “Well what would you get out of talking about it?” And I think I’ve finally realized that it’s not about what I’ll get out of it. It’s about helping those people out there suffering to know that they’re not alone, and that there is hope, no matter how bad things can feel.

And here’s my truth: I am a recovered (or recovering, depending on person opinion) self injurer. What does that mean exactly? It means that for about ten years of my life, off and on, I waged a secret addiction to hurting myself. From the time I was eleven until only a couple years ago, it was my coping mechanism. When things were stressful, when I was depressed, when I felt empty or alone or out of control, I would turn to it.  It seemed like the only thing that remained constant in my life–this horrible secret that I tried to hide so well, from everyone around me. You’re ashamed, you’re embarrassed, and you feel even more alone, which just makes the cycle even worse. I had an amazing boyfriend, a close group of friends, and a supportive family and yet it seemed like the only thing I could control, the only thing I could trust. If anything, I felt guilty for hating myself so much when I had all these amazing things. What reason did I have to be upset?

So the question remains: what changed?

I think one of the greatest things I ever did to help me overcome self injuring was treating my anxiety, which I’ve now figured out was one of the major causes of my cutting. I’m not saying that works for everyone–or that my anxiety is completely under control–but it taught me in those moments, when I normally would have broken down and locked myself in my room, to try and breath. It doesn’t always work, and more than once I’ve called Andrew scared, but the truth is it’s been years since I’ve hurt myself. And while the scars may still remain–and will probably always be there–the truth is I feel proud of myself that I managed to overcome something which consumed my life. Yes, the possibility is always there in the back of my head that I could relapse, it is no longer a constant fear like it once was. I finally feel like I do have control over it.

So why did I feel like sharing this? Because there are so many people, who like I was, are caught in this cycle of self injury and don’t know how to break free. It’s an addiction, and like any addiction, you don’t just “grow out of it”, or simply “get over it”. It is a constant struggle. So to those out there who are suffering, who feel stuck and lonely and depressed, who feel like they’ll never escape: it is possible. You can break free, and you can get help. Find someone you trust, someone who can help you when you’re in your deepest, darkest moments. And know that recovery is always possible.

 

Pour a little sugar on it honey… pour a little sugar on it baby. I’m gonna make your life so sweet… yeah yeah yeah.

My very first gluten-free apple crisp ever.

Lately, I’ve been spending a lot of my free time over at Andrew’s place. Most, because with working 30+ hours per week, I don’t see him nearly as much as I used to. And whenever I’m over at his place, I tend to feel very domestic. I’ve been cooking a lot more lately than I used to. We’ve made a gluten-free vegetarian pizza, and there were gluten-free stuffed mushrooms (which were fabulous!) and, as pictured above, a gluten-free apple crisp.

I don’t know why, but yesterday–as I was recovering from a bout of lost appetite due to the flu and a particularly bad fall on Andrew’s stairs–I had this total urge to bake something. Maybe it was the snowfall a couple days before, or the large bag of apples on Andrew’s counter or just the smell of fall in the air but I just had to bake. First I thought about cupcakes, or muffins, my usual fall back foods. Then I started thinking about this apple crisp my sister made not too long ago, and I just really wanted to bake one. I’ve never baked one before, and I haven’t eaten one in about six years, but I set out to Sobeys with Andrew for a spur of the moment apple crisp. Now there were no gluten-free oats or quinoa flakes at the store, however I had read online before we left about using corn flakes, so I picked up a box of Mensa Sunrise flakes, thinking they would work well, as well as The Gluten-free Pantry crisp and crumble topping mix. And as you can see from above, it turned out really well. Slightly sweeter then I thought it would be, but really good. Delicious in fact. Andrew was impressed, which made me smile a lot. Like maybe, someday, I might make a good little house wife. It also made me excited to bake more. And with Christmas coming up, I really want to try and make gingerbread men. My attempt last year was a pretty big failure, but after my apple crisp success I have all this baking confidence, like I could do anything.

I’m really enjoying my return to cooking.

 

The two of us are going to play a little game… I think I will call it trick or treat.

Last night was Halloween, and–as promised–here are my pictures of the night. Not only did I get all dressed up for work as the Mad Hatter, but Andrew and I had a lot of fun playing Kurt and Courtney. The night was late, extra late considering that we had an extra hour, and the morning early (I had to be at work for 9am which meant catching the bus at 8am). Now Halloween is over for another year and the Christmas season officially begins which means my crankiness will probably increase as the days get shorter and shorter.

But… in the meantime, picture-y goodness:

 

It’s close to midnight and something evil’s lurking in the dark… under the moonlight, you see a sight that almost stops your heart.

Andrew and myself circa Halloween 2004. Alice in Wonderland and her punk-rock prince.

Halloween is officially my favorite holiday. And there will definitely be a Halloween post to come but in the meantime to show off not just my work costume (the Mad Hatter) but me and Andrew’s couple costume (Kurt and Courtney). But all I have to say right now is have a spooktacular Halloween, don’t eat too many mini chocolate bars, and remember to watch out for the ghosts and goblins lurking in the dark.

 

From the very first moment I saw you that’s when I knew… all the dreams I held in my heart had suddenly come true.

Six years. Seventy-two months. Three hundred and twelve weeks. Two thousand, one hundred and ninety days.

That’s the amount of time Andrew and I have spent together as of yesterday. Okay, maybe I’m forgetting a couple days because of leap years. But never the less yesterday I celebrated six glorious years with the one I love. And reflected over how much has changed in the time since Andrew and I first met. And how little has changed in the time since Andrew and I first met. My diet may have completely changed, our late-night nacho feasts long gone, but the love we share is just as strong as it was on that night when the two of us laid under the stars and told each other “I love you” for the first time. We’re the same silly kids we’ve always been with tickle fights and lame jokes. He’s still the boy who can make me smile even when I want to cry. The only boy I’ve ever loved. The only boy I ever want to wake up beside, hogging the covers and snuggling close.

And I can’t wait to be seventy, still holding hands and sneaking kisses and still competing to wish the other one “happy anniversary” first and arguing over who loves the other one more.

 

The zombies were having fun… the party had just begun. The guests included Wolf Man, Dracula, and his son.

Me and Andrew’s jack-o-lantern: the bat signal.

It’s not secret that of all the holidays celebrated, Halloween is probably my absolute favorite. And if my pictures from last year tell you anything, it’s that–in my house–we do Halloween right. And in style. Now with work, I get to dress up in all our Halloween gear (which I get at a sickening discount). But as far as thinking about the exact day, I’ve had other things occupying my mind such as: my birthday, work, Andrew and my six year anniversary this Saturday. In fact, my first real Halloween celebrating was carving jack-o-lanterns with Andrew. We decided (okay, I begged) to carve the bat signal into his pumpkin. I actually drew the bat on the pumpkin myself, free hand and we managed to work together to bring it to life.

But the one thing I’ve been freaking out about is Halloween costumes. Last year, we had so much as a pair (Edie and Andy) that I’ve been wondering what kind of couple we could be this year. I spent the other night at work trying to come up with ideas, even writing up a list. This list included:

• JFK and Marilyn Monroe.
• Holly Golight, Fred Baby, and Cat.
• Edward Cullen and Buffy the vampire slayer (inspired by this video)
• Gilligan and Ginger (from Gilligan’s Island).
• Batman and Catwomen.
• Bill and Sookie (from Trueblood)
• And, finally: Chuck and Blair from Gossip Girl.

Now while Chuck and Blair was my favorite idea, Andrew was completely against the idea. And we were back at square one. So today we passed ideas back and forth, trying to come up with an idea that would be pretty easy, but still a fun and creative costume. And so we’ve narrowed it down to two possible costume ideas. And those potential costumes are:

Both are potentially awesome ideas (okay, if you don’t read into the stores behind them as neither were happy or healthy relationships… but I digress). Of course, I have no idea what I’m going to be working Halloween, or when I’ll make it to Halifax, but either way I can’t wait to get all dressed up, to have a couple drinks and spend time with friends, and have fun. Because in all honesty, that is what Halloween is about: having fun. Okay, and maybe bite sized chocolate bars. But more than anything, it’s about fun.

And I guess you’ll just have to stayed tuned to see what we choose.

 

So happy birthday darling… watch those candles melt away. Not unlike those chandeliers at the bar where we both etched our names.

Day look: Bluenotes flared jeans. Black tank top from Winners. American Eagle teal t-shirt. Fuchsia caridgan from Frenchy’s. Assorted Claire’s necklaces.

Night look: Black tank top from Winners. American Apparel figure skater dress. Fuchsia cardigan from Frenchy’s. DKNY tattoo tights. Not pictured:   my fuzzy birthday tiara. Brand New Sitches studded boots, a birthday present from my parents.

I figured I would post both my birthday looks from yesterday. The first was my look as I took my first aid training for eight hours. I am now first aid qualified. The second look, my beloved figure skater dress (which, if you remember, I coveted for my birthday celebrations last year) which I wore out for dinner at the Wooden Monkey with my parents and Andrew. We had an amazing supper, let me tell you. My birthday just happened to fall on vegetarian Thursday so both Andrew and I participated, trying new foods, but of course not forgetting about our beloved vegan nachos (the horror!) I really dig the tattoo tights from DKNY which technically I bought because I saw how amazing they looked on Alicia. She, however, has the black ones so I opted for the opiate because they look more like tattoo designs on my legs.

Now, just for fun, some pictures from my birthday. Trust me when I say that these pictures really don’t capture how amazing my birthday was. And, I must say, if this is just the beginning of what 23 has in store, then I am ready and beyond excited. I really wasn’t looking forward to my birthday, in fact I was dreading it, and–as of yesterday–was not celebrating it. Mom even crossed out birthday on my cards and replaced it with: happy vegetarian Thursday! Did I mention how amazing of a family I have? And not just because they spoiled me terribly. Mostly because they understand my usual hatred and fear of my birthday.

 

Amazing still it seems… I’ll be twenty-three. I won’t always love what I’ll never have… I won’t always live in my regrets.

23 things I’ve learned on, this, my 23rd birthday

1. You will not die if you give up bread or dairy. I hear all the time: “Oh, if I couldn’t eat bread I would just die.” I was eighteen years old when I had to go gluten-free and 20 when I discovered I was lactose intolerant. I’m still alive, and you know what, I don’t really miss the “regular” food I used to eat. I barely remember them. Sure, sometimes I crave certain things, and with dairy I have screwed up once or twice. But the truth is: if something is making you beyond sick, you won’t miss it in the least. And you’ll feel much better without it.
2. It’s okay to make mistakes. The people who love you will still love you. This isn’t to say that you should go out, purposely make mistakes to test love. Or not care about making mistakes just because people will probably stay around. But one thing I’ve discovered through my many mistakes is that those people around you that love you won’t stop because you’re not perfect. (This was one thing that it took me a long time to learn.)
3. No matter how much you love someone, sometimes you do you have to let them go. This is especially true for friendships. I’m not saying you shouldn’t fight for what you love, I’m just saying that if something keeps hurting you, no matter how much you try, maybe you should say goodbye.
4. The best television shows almost always get canceled before their time. I’m looking at you “Popular” and “Veronica Mars.”
5. Bad things happen to good people.
   
6. But good things do too.

 

But as you sleep… and noone is listening. I will lift you off your feet… I’ll keep you from sinking.

Violet and Claire floral blouse. Black high-waisted skirt. Navy blue Joe Fresh cardigan. Two pairs of Anne Taylor tights, layered. Not pictured: Black Steve Madden pointy toed flats.

I work a lot this week. In fact, I don’t have a day off. Between now and Saturday I work 32 hours. In fact I have to go in today and try and get off early on Saturday just so I can be able to make it to my birthday celebrations. I’m praying my manager agrees, otherwise I’m going to miss out on my own birthday celebration. And after buying a brand new dress for the occasion, I definitely do not want to miss out on my own birthday. And if 32 hours of work wasn’t stressful enough, with first aid on Thursday (my birthday, by the way) I feel like I’m coming down with the flu or something. I woke up this morning with a sore belly, what feels like the beginning of a migraine, and achy all over. The fact that I’m up, dressed, and trying to look as cute as possible is actually a miracle.

Now let’s just see if I make it through the next nine hours. But trust me when I say I’ll be coming home tonight and going straight to bed.

 

What we do is innocent… just for fun and nothing meant. If you don’t like the company… let’s just do it you and me.

The other night, I decided to go out for a girls night with Andrew’s roommate’s girlfriend Alicia. Now I don’t go downtown often, and most of the time when I go it is either with Andrew, or with a big group of friends. So it being just the two of us was an interesting adventure. Showing up at Andrew’s apartment, I finished getting ready, and then Alicia and I left early mostly because my bus transfer was about to expire. We grabbed a quick cocktail at another bar, mostly because it seemed a bit early to show up, and then headed to Bubbles for our night of drinks and dancing. Turns out the bar had been rented out, so we ended up paying cover, but that was okay.

The night was… interesting. Very fun, and I had a blast with Alicia. But oh boy did we get paid a lot of attention. The second we sat down, drinks already in hand, we got free drinks on the house from the DJ. We sat down in another part of the bar and a very, very drunk guy sat down and started chatting with us about how tired he was, and how maybe he should go back to his hotel room as though we’d jump up and offer to take him there. The same guy who sat down later, not remembering he had already talked to us, and introduced himself again. He also tried cuddling up to me, and was quiet offended when I pulled away. We also made friends with some guys from the States who were working in town at the shipyard. And I got asked out to dinner and a movie by a seemingly nice guy, who when I explained I had a boyfriend, remarked “Well, then what are you doing here?!” annoyed. My reply: “Um, dancing with my friend?” Who knew that the only reason girls are allowed to go out for drinks with a friend, and dancing, is if they are single and ready to sleep with whatever guy walks up to them in the bar. I also got chatted up by a guy who apparently I went to school with, and we graduated the same year. He told me my face looked familiar and asked me if I went to Auburn.

All in all, we had a fun night. Sure, some of the moments were slightly unnerving, but we made some friends, got to dance (although not nearly enough as I hoped) and both made it home safe by one. It made me feel a little more grown up. Usually I’m scared of crowds, and I’ve never been good at making plans, but I survived both and managed to have a really good time with someone who I hope is becoming a good friend. It gives me hope that our shared birthday celebrations next weekend (a week from today to be exact) will just as much of a success. We’ll look fabulous, get to dance, and have two strong boyfriends to protect us from all the scary boys in the world. Until the next time we get dressed up all fabulous and have another girlie night of dancing.