The hardest part about going to treatment was leaving my daughter.

Today marks the one-year anniversary of my admission to an eating disorder treatment center in Chicago. I spent two months at the center where I was treated for symptoms of anorexia, avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder (ARFID), and rumination disorder. It was painful, it was traumatic, and it probably saved my life. I came home to Toledo last Valentine’s Day and nothing has been the same.

The hardest part about going to treatment was leaving my six-year-old daughter. I knew it would be hard, but it was even more difficult than I could imagine. During my stay in treatment, I couldn’t even talk about my daughter without uncontrollably sobbing. It was torture because as soon as anyone found out I was a mom they wanted to ask me about my kid. Around Christmas time my daughter drew me a bunch of pictures and sent them to me. I was so upset when I opened the package that they had a staff member follow me around for the rest of the day. It never seemed to get easier. I always cried.

Back up to fall 2021 – in the months prior to my admission I was engaging in eating disorder behaviors day in and day out, and unfortunately, my young daughter witnessed all of it. There was one night when I threw up during dinner and my husband and daughter didn’t even flinch or look at me. They continued to finish their meals while I cleaned up. That’s how frequent my behaviors were – my family didn’t even see it as out of the ordinary anymore.

Then I made the best decision I could for my little family by going away for treatment. It was inconvenient and I missed my family so much, but we felt it was necessary. I knew my daughter was in good hands and I was going to do my best to get better.

The other patients at the treatment center knew how upset I was talking about my daughter but they still took the time to commend me for doing what was best. I was told I was giving my daughter the best gift I could give her and that I was becoming a good role model. One young woman told me, “I wish my mom would have gone to treatment. Things would be different for me.” I cried so much but I found their words to be motivating. I wanted to get better for my daughter.

I came home a better mother. I used to be really distracted but now I am focused when I spend time with my daughter. I will do anything to keep her healthy – mentally, physically, and emotionally. I don’t ever want my daughter to go through what I did, but at the same time, I want her to know there is help if she is ever struggling. 

Unfortunately, I’ve faced criticism about leaving my daughter. Just before going to treatment, a relative called me to tell me how horrible this was going to be for my daughter which made a very difficult decision even harder. I was so sick and I couldn’t believe with the state I was in that anyone would want me to not go to treatment.  Since coming home my unsupportive family members have made a point to remind me how hard I made things for my daughter — and it really hurts. They have no idea what I went through — or even what my husband and daughter went through — yet they still have an opinion about it. Leaving my daughter was by far the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but I did what was best for all of us.

Despite the negativity and pain, I’m still here. Still focused on recovery – and motherhood. I know I made the best decision but I shouldn’t have to explain that to my loved ones. My husband reassures me that I did the right thing. I know in the long run my daughter and I will both feel the benefits of my time at the center. I went to treatment to show my daughter healthier habits so hopefully, she won’t end up where I was. 

I was at the treatment center for only two months but recovery is forever. It has been a year now and we are all still feeling ripple effects. I am much happier now. I know what I need to focus on and I do it from a healthier place. I am grateful for the treatment center, but I really hope I never have to go back.

Three Year Anniversary on FtB!

Three years ago today I published my first post on Freethought Blogs. What was once a fun little side project has now become my main outlet as a writer. Life as an atheist in the Midwest isn’t always easy so I’m happy to be a part of a community where I am accepted. 

Thank you for letting me share my life – everything from the release of my poetry book to parenting my daughter to the treatment of my eating disorder. I really appreciate all the support you have shown me. I enjoy sitting at the downtown library every week writing my posts and I always look forward to your comments. I’ve learned so much from you. I have spent most of my life feeling unheard so I am grateful that you have given me a place to use my voice. The everyday life of a mom in Ohio seems insignificant, but when I write, I feel like I’m a part of something so much bigger.

I love Freethought Blogs and I plan on sticking around for a while. Thank you for everything! 

Proselytizing: Do Christians Need Instructions to Talk to Atheists?

I don’t remember quite how old I was – eleven or twelve maybe – when there was a knock on the door of my childhood home and I was home alone. They seemed insistent. Got me out of bed even. I opened the door to see the older couple who lives at the end of the road. Turns out they were Jehovah’s Witnesses. This was the nineties in a very rural area so the thought never crossed my mind to just not answer the door (which is what I do now). They asked if my dad was around. I said no. At that point, I thought they would leave but instead, they asked me, “Do you ever wonder if there isn’t a god?” I said yes and they whipped out a pamphlet. I don’t remember exactly what the pamphlet said or how long they stuck around, I just remember how awkward I felt. They got me out of bed to talk about god. I didn’t know them well but they weren’t strangers, either. I know proselytizing is an important part of Christianity, but who the hell ever thought that it was okay to talk to the little girl down the road about god?

If anyone does that to my daughter, there will be hell to pay.

Apparently, there are instructions on how to talk to atheists. It looks like Christians have to think long and hard about ways to defend/spread their religion. I think that’s funny because it is so easy to poke holes in their arguments. 

I recently read these two articles:

Great Questions to Graciously Engage Your Atheist Friend

How to Talk to Atheists with Clarity and Confidence

Reading the articles I felt like I was behind enemy lines watching them try to crack a secret code. Have you seen these articles before?

My whole entire life I’ve felt awkward around Christians and proselytizing is why. Keep that shit to yourself. How about live and let live?

“Mistreated” — A Poem from My Book, Free to Roam

This is a poem from my book, Free to Roam: Poems from a Heathen Mommy. It was published by Freethought House and released in 2021.

 

Mistreated

 

Beads of envy line your forehead—
in your sick game,
you brought fire to the fight.
My impressionable spirit whets your appetite for attention.

Peck away at my frazzled brain.
My secret thoughts run down your chin.
Sour doubt and anxiety
appease your fickle cravings.

You could be anywhere—
watching, waiting, stewing in your misery.
Nowhere is safe.
You assert your crumbling power with fear.

A captive victim of your abuse—
your overbite stabs at my fragile existence.
You’ll never know the cost of your actions—
a price I’ll pay for the rest of my days.

I want vengeance
but I want freedom even more.
You’re gone but still very much present
in my broken brain.

Thoughts of progress are fleeting,
pain erodes hope.
Your suffocating grip lingers.
I’m shackled from my next chapter.

The cold shadow of trauma
blankets my world.
Maybe with time
healing light will creep back in.

My poetry book gives an atheist perspective on being a Midwest Mom. It is for sale on my publisher’s site freethoughthouse.com, Barnes & Noble, and Amazon. (Signed copies are available at freethoughthouse.com.)

Does anyone hate Christmas as much as I do?

Ugh. I really hate this time of year. The busy stores. The stupid movies and ads on TV. The music. It really gets under my skin — every fucking year.

Obviously, I don’t agree with the religious side of Christmas. I hate being reminded of how dominating Christianity is where I live. But it’s much more than that.

Why can’t a holiday just be on the scheduled day it’s supposed to be? Why does Christmas have to last two fucking months? Sometimes I see Christmas shit in stores in October. Don’t you dare overshadow Halloween!

And then there are the gifts. I love how stores so thoughtfully send catalogs through snail mail (even though you don’t ask for them) just so your kids can get their hands on them. My six-year-old daughter circled every fucking toy in the Meijer catalog the other day.

Not to mention my husband and I don’t have a lot of money. We always go into the new year broke. I mean really, what is the point of all this?

I am the biggest Scrooge and I really don’t have a point to this post. I just wanted to bitch and I’m hoping you get me and want to bitch, too.

I say we make Christmas a second Halloween or second Thanksgiving. Who’s with me?

How often do you dream at night? Do you remember your dreams?

I recently read a book about how to write short stories and the author suggested keeping a dream journal for inspiration. I always keep a journal on my nightstand because sometimes ideas come to me at night but I had never actually kept a record of my dreams. I decided to give it a try and it’s been interesting. I’ve been doing it for about three weeks now. Writing down your dreams as soon as you wake up when you can still remember them is key. 

I typically go to bed at 10 pm and wake up at 3 or 4 in the morning to drink some water. (I take lithium and it causes excessive thirst.) Then I go back to bed and get up around 7 am. I almost always stick to this routine. What’s interesting is almost every time I get up at 3 or 4 I’m writing down dreams. Then again at 7. It seems like I actually dream quite a bit.

Tornados and sex (not at the same time) seem to be common themes in my dreams. Many of my dreams are filled with anxiety like I go somewhere and can’t find parking or I’m late to an appointment. I think the most interesting dream I’ve written down so far was that aliens invaded and I went outside and it was snowing, except the snowflakes were actually tracking devices that embed into your skin. Maybe that one could inspire a story.

I am on antipsychotic medication for schizoaffective disorder, and when my meds aren’t quite right, I have nightmares. Recently I ran out of one of my medications and didn’t have it for a few days. It was my fault. I was lazy and thought I’d be okay – I’d get to it later. My nightmares often involve being haunted by ghosts. I ended up having a really crazy nightmare – I was hit by a train and a soldier saved my life, but in the process, he lost his own life. He was angry about it and came back and haunted me. I was laying in bed and his ghost was at the foot of my bed crawling toward me. The next morning my husband said he could hear me whimpering in my sleep. Needless to say, I was at the pharmacy ASAP. 

Do you write down your dreams? Do you remember your dreams? If you’re an artist or writer, have your dreams ever inspired your work?

My Sad Healthcare Story – Every American Has One

I want to tell you about a very unfortunate situation I was in and why I support universal healthcare and paid maternity/paternity leave.

Eight years ago I worked for a community mental health agency and I absolutely hated it. The job involved a lot of driving and driving is something that makes me really anxious. I should have never accepted the position but it paid more than my previous job. 

At the same time, my husband and I wanted to start a family and in 2015 we found out we were expecting.

Many pregnant people in the US are familiar with FMLA – the Family Medical Leave Act. It allows you to take off up to twelve weeks unpaid from your job for a medical reason. For most American mothers it is the only way to have maternity leave.

There’s a catch – to apply for family medical leave, you have to have been with your employer for at least a year. So when I got pregnant, I was stuck at my miserable job. If I found a new job, I wouldn’t be able to have maternity leave. Let’s be real – no one is going to hire a pregnant person anyway.

My daughter came and I took eight weeks off. Family Medical Leave is typically unpaid but my employer required me to use all of my sick and vacation time while I was off. It only covered about two weeks and it turned out to be disastrous. 

When my eight weeks were up, I went back to work and my daughter went to daycare. She was tiny and it was gut-wrenching to leave her with strangers. As many parents know, when you send your kid to daycare they get sick – a lot. My daughter had only been at daycare for a week when I had to take her to the hospital for a fever of 104.

So here I am with a sick kid and no sick or vacation time to stay home with her. I had no options. I took a day off anyway and when I returned to work I got written up for it.

I continued to work at my miserable job but I was also looking at job postings. Then an amazing opportunity came up for my husband. He started a new job and it was good money – and we desperately needed money. Since you have to work for an employer for three months to get health insurance, I stayed at my job so my husband could go on my insurance. I stopped looking for a new job and stayed put.

Also, let me tell you how horrible the health insurance was at that job. My annual salary was only $20,000 and the health insurance offered had a $5,000 deductible. 

My husband was working at his new job and finally got health insurance. A few months later, I was laid off. Getting laid off should be terrifying, but I only felt relief.

Working at that job was one of the darker periods of my life and I was absolutely stuck there for nearly four years.

Today, I only work part-time so I am on my husband’s insurance which thankfully, is pretty good. My husband and I both have chronic health conditions so going without insurance just isn’t an option.

That’s it. That’s my sad story. That’s why I will always push for universal healthcare and paid family leave.

 

Fellow Americans, what’s your sad story?

Attractive vs. Intelligent

Be honest – would you rather be attractive or intelligent? Which do you think is more helpful in life? Who has it easier?

I would like to think intelligence will take you further – having good ideas and making smart choices. That would definitely be helpful in life.

But if you’re good-looking are you seen as more approachable or given more opportunities? If looks could open doors that would also be helpful.

I feel like I should say I would prefer to be intelligent but sometimes I think I would rather be attractive.

They say when you recover from an eating disorder the last things to go are your body image issues. That’s a painfully honest statement. I’m at a point in my recovery where I’m eating well and feel great physically but, yes, my struggles with body image are still nagging me.

I feel if I were attractive I would feel comfortable – maybe even confident – when I go out in public. But yesterday I went to the grocery store and I realized no one else looked like a supermodel either. Is that mean? Is that the wrong way to look at it?

My dietician asked an interesting question – do you dress for yourself or others?

But then again, there are many days when intelligence wins. I hope one day I’m known for my achievements – my artwork and writing. Being attractive won’t get you ahead in those fields.

What’s more important in my life – feeling confident in public or growing as an artist and writer?

Hands down, I want to be a better artist and writer.

So intelligence is my answer.

Attractive vs. intelligent – what’s your answer? Which is more beneficial?

Active Shooter Drills/Training

I recently went through ALICE training at work. Surprisingly it was my very first time getting active shooter training. The main takeaway was to get the hell out of the building. 

My office has had some experience with gun violence. It’s not in the best of neighborhoods. Two years ago there was a shooting outside the back of the building. Our organization has also received threats where the entire office was evacuated. 

I even have a plan if a gunman enters the building – there’s a door that locks that blocks off access to my desk. I would lock the door, hide under my desk, and call 911. That’s my plan if I can’t escape. I thought about this well before the training.

The training had some interesting ways to distract a shooter but I think if I was put in the situation I would freeze and be absolutely no help. The instructor kept saying “engage with the shooter”. When put in that situation, who would have the balls to do that?

Usually, during the training, they do live simulations, but my employer chose not to do that. Apparently, it’s pretty intense and even traumatic. The instructor said there was a woman at another local organization who was so traumatized by the simulations that she had to take two weeks off of work.

We listened to 911 tapes from Columbine High School. It was extremely difficult to hear. I was in high school when the Columbine shooting happened and it changed everything.

I’ve cried over the fact that my six-year-old has to do active shooter drills at school. She doesn’t know what it’s for. The night after my training I asked my daughter what she thought about lockdown drills at school. She asked, “is that when we huddle together?” I said yes and asked her why she has to do that. She said, “It’s for practice like a fire drill.” That’s all she knows — it’s “practice”. She doesn’t know any different. I left it at that.

I remember feeling scared during tornado drills at school. Growing up in the Midwest I damn well knew what a tornado was. I can’t imagine being told to hide when you don’t really know the reason. That has to be frightening and confusing. 

They tell students to hide but in Florida, the shooter pulled the fire alarm. What would you do?

There was a shooting at our local high school during a football game a couple months ago — the school my daughter will be going to. But people said it was gang-related — not random — as if that’s supposed to make me feel better about it. No one died but a couple people were wounded.

I do think about these situations – especially at work or out in public – but sometimes it seems like mass shootings happen so frequently that an event can be easily forgotten. Then it happens again. And again. In a way, you become desensitized to it. Even so, it’s still on my mind. Is it on yours?

Do you guys think about these situations often? Do you ever go somewhere and make a plan in your head of where you would go and what you would do? Do you avoid crowded places?

Is it even possible to prepare for an active shooter situation? Will the scenarios I play in my head ever be useful? Or is it causing unnecessary anxiety? 

Spirituality as an Atheist

How do you define spirituality? It feels like a very vague term that can encompass a lot. 

I facilitate support groups at work and for an upcoming project, we are going to make self-care plans. Of course, I’m going to bring paint and markers and stickers so we can make them all pretty. 🙂 

Our self-care plans are going to have four categories: Physical, Mental, Emotional, and Spiritual. I felt that it was important to add the “spiritual” category because, for many of our participants, spirituality plays a very significant role in their lives.

For all of our groups, I create examples of our projects to show the participants. Here’s what I put for my Spirituality category for my self-care plan:

Spend more time in nature.

Meditate.

Look at the stars.

Many of our participants are religious, so I am happy to share some secular examples.

Naturally, this made me think more about spirituality and what it means to me, and one thing that really came to mind is connecting with other people. I am not a people person by any means but when we have an art group or drum circle at work, I feel this strong sense of community, like I’m a small part of a whole. It’s hard to find a word to describe the atmosphere. It’s such a positive environment and I wish I could exist in that space all the time. I get a rush from facilitating groups and feel a sort of high when we finish. 

I love my job. 

It’s hard for me to define spirituality when I don’t have a religious go-to, but the magic of creating art and music with people at work feels spiritual.

How do you define spirituality as an atheist? Is it an important part of your life? What feels spiritual to you?

Just in case you’re curious, here’s the rest of my self-care plan:

Mental

Take meds

Therapy

Read

Go to work

 

Physical

Intuitive eating

Go for walks

Play with my daughter

Drink water

 

Emotional

Write

Create art

Bubble baths

Be kind to myself and others