feeling is first.

a four letter word, like my other favorites. *cough momma if your reading this cough*



What can make you feel?
What makes your hair stand up on your neck?
What makes you happy when you're down?
What makes your mind move to places you didn't know existed?
What makes you excited to live?

Everyone feels differently, what makes me weak at the knees may be something you ponder as glib. The important thing is that you know what make you feel, and you know how to feel it. Music, Fashion, Writing, Reading, Sports, Art, Ect.

Find what touches your heart, something that makes you feel surrounded even when you're alone. If I were cliche, I'd call this a "Natural High."

For me, it's words. When I read or write, it's like my whole world is at peace. Everyone I want to be happy is, and I can change things. I can have a profound impact.

If someone is reading this, anyone, and I could leave you with anything tonight, anything you could do for me...

I'd ask you to look inside yourself, and find what makes you feel.

take that statement however it feels for you, and regaurdless find it.

26poundslater.

& it's still on my mind every day.

673 days ago it all began.
it was innocent, healthy, encouraged even.

506 days ago I cried out for help the first time.

I didn't know what was wrong. Nobody understood, nobody knew what to say.

I thought they forgot, but no, everyone just watched.

436 days ago my world was orbiting around one goal.
I was living in my mind.

441 days ago my mom cried out for help.

416 days ago I began treatment.

376 days ago I admitted to myself I had a problem.

322 days ago I was able to talk to my family and friends about it.

They already knew.

93 days ago a boy told me he thought my problem was beautiful, he wished I wasn't better.

I tried to relapse, but my power was gone.

Tomorrow I go to therapy at 3:00 pm

45 minutes ago I deamed it was time to make my story known.

you learn about eating disorders in health, but they don't seem real. That's not a disease, right?

Anorexia Nervosa is more than a body issue, it's a mind controller.

It is debilitating, humiliating, & life changing.and when you're cured you're cured, right?

but nobody tells you that recovery is worse.

You know how mother's say you can't know how it feels to long for a baby when you can't have one, well you don't know what it's like to long for your eating disorder back once it's gone.

the pain and the feelings are there, even at your happiest times,

just to remind you what you've been though.

it'd be so easy to just loose all the weight you've gained, right?

but the way I starved myself is beyond my mind power now.

I know my body needs food, so I eat, and eat, and eat.

& that's the other half of it...

where is the balance? how can you eat, but not eat until you want to vomit?

how can you eat, and just eat normally, and not starve yourself?

I write this because I'm going to be the one girl brave enough to tell her story. To tell other girls who want to loose weight it's not worth it. To tell those people who think eating disorders are glamerous that they are the farthest thing from pretty. To tell them that eating disorders kill. I hope this makes you feel, and for those of you reading who watched me go through this,
i'm sorry.
And for those of you who may feel like you're falling into an obbsession with dieting, get help before it gets worse. And if you're recovering and you feel like it will never get better, it will. Today it's taken me nearly two full years to be able to say that I'm realitivly confident with my body. I eat whatever I want in moderation, and my weight fluctuates about ten pounds a month up or down. I'm not happy with my body everyday, and it's the farthest thing from perfectm but i accept it. There is hope, and you don't have to do it alone. If you don't want to talked to a loved one, email me.

carolinekaiserblogs@yahoo.com

A thought on Love...

Well, I didn't really want to post the video but rather just the song but this is the only way I could think to do it. The reason I wanted you to hear this song is because it really inspires me. I mean, it does talk about love and all, but the big thing I got out of it was how in the beginning she talks about her parents relationship. That is the main thing I'm going to talk about here. She is talking about how the fact her parents fought made her not want to fall in love. Now is where I talk about my parents...

My mother and father will have been married for 28 years in August. Thinking about that and how rare it is these days is mind boggling. They were married for about 3 years before they had my sister, Sarah. After that they tried and tried to have another child but couldn't. Ten years later, they had stopped trying and I became my Mother's miracle. So, my sister and I were both raised practically as only children. When I was only 8, my sister moved to Georgia to go to art school. She hasn't lived at home since, but of course she visits. My parents have always given me everything I need and much more. Sure, they've had fights but really they are few and far apart. My objective isn't to go into detail about the relationships I hold with my family, but to speak of what my parents' relationship reflects onto me.

My dad wasn't always the best father to my sister and me but he never really treated my mom badly. Though they aren't ever lovely dovey and such, I think the fact that they are in love is clear. Even if they aren't in love, they care deeply for each other, enough to have kept them together for all these years. Tieing this back to the song, my point is that my parents have set a good example of a healthy relationship for their kids. But yet...I don't believe love exists. I believe you can care for a person, lust a person, or destroy a person. But the assumption that two people can fall madly into some romantic relationship seems to be a mere facade of one's imagination. Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to be a negative nancy or dampen your hopes of finding love. I do hope I'll be proved wrong one day, but until then my opinion stands.

In "The Only Exception" she says she promised herself she'd never believe in love because of her parents' relationship and then some guy proves her wrong. I wanted to blog about this song because I don't know why I have not faith in love. My parents set a good example. Maybe it's just because no man has ever loved me, let alone had honest intentions with me. Maybe one day I'll believe, but for those out there that do, I think that would be a very exciting thing to feel. And the last thing I'm trying to do is change or belittle that opinion, but analyze it really.

In conclusion, I have been thinking about the United States as a whole alot lately with the 4th of July coming up and all. Should we really be celebrating this country? I mean, we are fortunate of course, but we are also destructive and shady and dishonest. The BP oil spill is killing so many ocean creatures, and they won't even let anyone save the turtles before they try and burn the oil out. Why should we celebrate this country when we all we care about is money? I hope things turn around, and I get my faith in humanity back. But isn't it a frightening thought when you ponder what future generations will bring? And I would hope, if love does exist, it is as profound as it sounds, and maybe...it has the power to over come all the evil in this world. Happy Fourth!

Ch. 1 (maybe!) of the story

Fern
April 27, 2010


Alone, she sits in silence peering through the picture window in her breakfast nook. Fern dreamt of a butter colored breakfast nook with a large picture window to show her garden since marring Winthrop, and she finally built it when he opened his private practice. She sits, looking into her garden. The very garden she planted daisies with Teagen and dafidils with Zelda.
Teagen & Zelda, her pride and joy, her sorrow & pain, her everything.
Fern sits, powerless, pondering. A mother – a good mother – is supposed to fix the wrong doings & correct all misfortunes, but what is there to be done when every bridge has been burned and there is no hope, happiness, or improvement to be found? No more tears to be shed or lectures to be given, and the only thing left to do is sit, pondering where it all went wrong.
They were never supposed to be that family. Guilt burdens her frail figure like an iron suit. Even her own husband blames her, leaving her alone to bear the weight of shattered perfection. Shattered dreams. Shattered lives.
So. She sits. Withered skin, the stories of her life forming ringlets in her black, black, black hair. Her striking blue eyes grown red from tears, sunken in with dark circles from long nights. Bones aching with emotional burdens, draped in silk pajamas. The cherry blossom print that once seemed oh so elegant now appears merely a trifle in her chaotic life. And so she sits, empty, sleep deprived, malnourished, numb. Trembling, she stares out into her garden.
How is the world still spinning, the sun still rising, lives still living, when the only thing she has the capacity to do is sit, attempting to conceive thought of a future, for she is left the only one still hoping. For she is left alone to pick up all the shards of her family.
Her home is silent, nearly unsettlingly so. Teagen has now been sleeping for over a day. Fern has grown accustom to the cycle, in a way expecting to find Teagen’s body cold soon as well. Winthrop has been sleeping at his office. Maybe the best solution is to run. Run until reality is no longer visible. But still fern sits in her breakfast nook. The movie of her mind growing monotonous – replaying the past weeks, months, years. Looking as far back as Zelda’s birth. Beautiful, beautiful Zelda. Laughter filled their house each day when she was a little girl. These memories shove a knife into Fern’s protruding ribs – and she bleeds, and bleeds, and bleeds. Pouring her guilt out, staining her white marble floor that once completed her façade of perfection. How could she have let this happen to her baby girl?
And time passes…flowers turn to weeds and verdence turns to drought. Hours to days, and days to weeks.

And all she does is sit.

I feel, do you?

"i hurt and i'll hurt you. so go away."

how does one let go of the want for revenge? how does one accept what was done to them, and not want to do it to someone else? how does one move on?

Today, well actually the last few days, I have been very unhappy. I couldn't really put my finger on why, but I know it had something to do with this girl. With this being a public blog, I won't name names but I am going to explain. This girl, I don't know her. I have never met her, or even seen her in person. Explaining what led me to find her on the web and why I was so stuck on her is too complex and personal. But just take it that we have something big in common, and listen to what I proceed with.

I read her "about me" on myspace, and I know she hurts. I can't understand why, but it is almost like I feel her hurt. I want so badly to help her, to help everyone. But I know that is not within my power. Maybe she doesn't want help, maybe she doesn't need it. Maybe I'm just trying to fill my own emptiness by trying to solve hers. It's hard to explain everything without explaining everything, if that makes sense? But I guess what I am getting at is that I feel things that are so profound. I can pick out random people in a crowd, and I just stare at them. I know they have a story, and I so badly want to read it. Or maybe, it's that I so badly want to write it. I can absorb the feelings of people that surround me. Whenever I'm with a friend, and they are venting or whatnot, I feel like I know exactly what they feel...even if I don't. By no means am I always right, but I would venture to say this is my talent. My purpose on this earth.

At times, when I read, and re-read this girl's profile, I wonder if what I feel is a longing to be her. To experience the things she has, just so I can have that story. Or maybe it's all in my head, and she doesn't have a story. But then I question myself, doesn't everyone have a story?

Sometimes, I get anxious when I think of how strongly I feel about everything and everyone. In alot of ways, the fact that I love my friends with all my heart and give them everything I've got to give seems like it would be a good gift to have. But in reality, the fact that I love too much always pushes everyone away. Sometimes I wonder, if maybe I should just stop loving everyone. Isolate myself from the world, for the sole fact I would never get hurt. That is no way to live though. In the end, I really just tell myself someday I will meet someone that actually wants my help, and needs my love. And that, I accept to be my purpose on the earth. What's yours?

A preface of the story I'm working on

Below is a snipet of the story I'm working on, I will post more if I think people like it.

Her aura was intimidating, yet not so you didn’t want to know her,
the kind of intimidating that makes you yearn to know her.
The kind of intimidating that intrigues your mind,
letting you sense that she has such tales to tell.

Looking into her eyes, it was like seeing freshly cut grass on a summer day,
like a flush evergreen in the deepest of winter.
Yet one can never look too long without feeling a fear,
A fear of discovering what may be inside her, behind her eyes.
You want to; you have to know her story.

Her beauty was ugly;
but not because she was hideous,
but because she was so astonishingly beautiful

that it caught the eye of any man or woman that passed by.

Long slender legs carried her. Her walk was one of grace & confidence.
Her skin was fair, appearing delicate from afar,
Although, upon a close look you could see it was rough and damaged.
Her face was framed with long, straight hair that was the blackest of all blacks.

Her sent was like incense,
drawing you in, but one mustn’t forget to keep a distance…
for her smoke will choke you,
and her fire will burn you.

She had a sort of power that acted as a magnet,
& once she had you in her clutch it was so hard to break free.
Inside every sane person, isn’t there always a yearn for insanity?
Blest is the one who holds this power & blesséd are the ones who can resist it.

The enemy of self

"When there is no enemy within, the enemies outside cannot hurt you." African Proverb

I can really only speak for myself, and about the things I have experienced, but I would imagine many people would find what I am going to say to be true..

Everyone knows someone that is a "badass" or whatever you want to call it. & Everyone looks at those people in a different way. The kind of person I'm thinking of is the one that does pretty much everything self destructive, illegal, frowned upon, you know the deal. But aren't the majority of those people "popular" or something like that? What I have come to realize, or believe, is that I have never met one of those people that is the way they are without reason. Something generally happened in their life to "fuck them up" per say. Something traumatic, something negligent, & alot of times it can be a manifestation of their own mind. Who knows really, but I suppose my point would be that it's not really right to ridicule those people because they have their own burdens. In fact, it's not really right to ridicule any person but yourself. That idea is very hard to except, I'm aware. It is human nature to be judgemental & by no means am I trying to say that I never judge anyone or something like that.

To put it into perspective:
Think about your neighborhood, and then just your one street. Each house on that street that has people living in it is a different story. Now think about just the people that live in your home, each one of them has their own story. Each one has their own heartbreaks, memories, thoughts. Then think about your self. You have your own heartbreaks, memories, & thoughts as well. Everyone has their own bullshit to deal with, is a blunt way to put it. & really all these little personal stories morph together at some point, and the way I see it is that we are all really fighting for the same thing. Self Acceptance.

I suppose this would be the point where I talk about how this factors into my life, right?
Looking back before my freshman year and actually a portion of the first semester, I was a very different person. I would always look down on girls that "needed a boy to feel good about themselves," or "were always looking for male attention." Looking back now, I can see exactly how I was slowly becoming that girl though. I began to thrive off of male attention, mainly because it was new to me. I began to search for it, I may even go as far to say I was begging for it. I began dressing the way I thought guys wanted me to, talking, doing my makeup, everything in my life began to revolve around boys. The girl I was at that point was no where near the person I really am. I don't know how related all these events are, but they all kind of clumped together to ultimately form one big disastrous, self destructive, painful semester. I pretty much lost all my friends, my relationships with my family, my personal interests, my individuality, I guess you could just say my whole life was gone. My mind had become a one way track of how I was going to find love or "get guys." I know for a solid fact though, that there are other girls that have these same types of thoughts and feelings.

Alot of things happened, I did alot of soul searching, too many things to even go over, but eventually, I figured out why I felt the way I did.
I wasn't comfortable with myself. I wasn't comfortable with being alone. I didn't have self love. & For me at least, that was terribly hard to admit. It was hard to accept that I had changed, that I screwed alot of people over, and I waisted a fuck load of time to be frank. In no way, shape, or form is it easy to just find your self love either, even if you have figured out that is what's missing. It is something that needs to be worked at, and I believe that work of that nature is best done alone. Everyone learns differently & everyone has a different purpose in life. I don't really judge any certain way of life, everyone has something different that works for them. That way of life may not be right for you or work for you, but it really isn't your business, choice, or problem if you think about it.

To conclude this excessively long post, I would like to state it is important to realize that everything that a person goes through brings them to another place in life, and eventually it will bring them to the place they want to be. I am not sure if I completely love myself, or if I am completely content. But I am sure that even if I don't wake up every morning happy, I have happiness throughout everyday. But the thing that is so profound about that is, I don't get that happiness from material things, boys, or really my friends even. I get that happiness because I am so very very proud of where I am today. How I can admit that I did alot of things I shouldn't have, but I learned and am still learning from them everyday. I have happiness in my life everyday because I love the person I am, or the person I am becoming, or the person I am planing to be. What ever you want to call it, it is a very very profound place to be indeed.