faith – Brooke Lyn Landon

Addiction: Old Habits Die Hard

Today marks year 8 since I left a rehabilitation center for eating disorders. That’s not to say it’s all been smooth sailing since. In fact, at times the waters have been rockier than Chris Brown and Rihanna’s relationship.

The past few months, I’ve been having the time of my life. I have an incredible group of friends, I’m making money, having fun, and blah blah blah. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, there was still an internal struggle with my old friend ED. (Eating Disorder) Although I haven’t “relapsed” as many would say, I have certainly regressed in terms of my behaviors, feelings, and thinking.

I look at ED as some abusive ex partner that continues to slide back into my DMs. It’s like ED can see my glow up, and can’t resist swooping back in. ED sends out a message, and I ignorantly open the new inbox notification that says… “I miss you.” I want to respond with a poop emoji but next thing you know a heart has been sent and we’re talking till 2AM.

It’s clear to me that these moments come when something within me is out of alignment. Regardless of how good life is, when I feel too much uncertainty, or a lack of trust in myself or life… *knock knock knock* Here comes ED with his never ending list of food suggestions and criticisms to “help” and control me. Can you blame me for feeling like life has had a fair amount of uncertainty these days? #2020 #isthisreallyhappening

Eating disorders are all about control, so this is my sick and twisted way to cope with the lack of control I feel in my own life. Then, this coping mechanism turns into a habit, and if I’m not careful, a relapse.

It goes a little something like… “You know you want to try that cookie. Go for it. Treat yo’self! You should finish them. Thick is the new fit so I’ve heard.” … “Can’t believe how much you ate. You’re going to be able to feed a Mormon family with the amount of rolls you’re going to have on you tomorrow. You better find a meal to skip soon.”

More often than not, it’s quite counter productive as you can imagine. I end up feeling like Gollum without a ring, but much fatter. (I don’t know why I write so many references from The Lord Of The Rings when I haven’t even seen all of the movies.)

Do I worry about relapsing in the future? I’d be lying if I said no. Heck, I worried today at the vegan buffet. That said, I refuse to let ED win. ED has ruined relationships of mine, and nearly took my life. Yet ED has also taught me some of my most valuable lessons and insights. I do not hate ED. In fact, I love ED for all of the strength and growth it has given me, but I also do not want ED to be an active part of my life again.

I’m here to say It’s okay to not be okay. It’s okay to regrettably respond to a DM every once in a while. You learn from it all. Just make sure you don’t take the loser back completely.

The Housemate From Hell

73DB491A-A107-4B91-9BC6-08D5FA726539 If you are an adult, please learn from my mistake. Never, under any circumstance, should you agree to live with a 20-year-old boy. Although I’m sure in his presence you will feel like a superior human being, it’s a pity to spend your time living with such an uninspiring energy vampire. On the exterior, he is an Asian Australian hipster. The interior is like a blonde bimbo, and that selfish, lazy ass cat, Garfield. Enough about that, let’s get into the story.

I get a message from my landlady the morning rent was due.
“Hi, I want to ask you a bit. Your roommate left before your contract, do you want to stay?” (Direct quote)

Ummm whattt?! Most of his belongings were still in his room, so I messaged him if he was leaving, but I got no response all day.

Later that evening, I hear the door open and his stupid goofy voice shout “HELLO!” As he peaked his head into my room, he giggled nervously like a school boy going through puberty. (But I guess that’s not too far off from where he is to be fair)He rambled about how he’s leaving and after a moment of silence I say “Okay.” I assume he was expecting more of a response because he continued to repeat himself.

I walk over to his room about 10 minutes later to ask if he’s leaving the country, or moving in with his girlfriend. After he told me he’d be staying in Hanoi with his girlfriend, I figured it would be a good time to introduce the huge mother fucking elephant in the room named Don’t Be A Dickhead, Warn Someone You’re Living With That You’re Going To Leave.

I calmly responded “ Oh, cool. So, I hope if you’re ever in this situation again, you tell someone what you’re going to do because it isn’t fun for anybody to hear last minute.”

“Hold on, hold on.” He says as he stares at his phone and mindlessly scrolls through it.

This piece of shit had me standing right infront of him for a solid minute as he scrolls through his newsfeed ignoring my existence. I left in disgust, but assumed that at some point soon, he’d have to address the fact that he totally just ignored me. Not even a second after entering my room, he closed his door and started to play music. Mind you, we’ve never argued before, (I’m not implying that half assed conversation was an argument by any means) and him leaving the apartment before the lease ended was completely unexpected. Now, that was just the beginning of his childish behavior.

While I was out for a drink with a friend, I told him to leave the money that he owes me on the kitchen table because I knew he would be clearing out everything that evening. I get back home and all I see on the table is a leftover 6L jug of his water, that he clearly didn’t want to drag on his motorbike to his new apartment, and a half eaten box of cookies, that taste like cardboard covered in babies diarrhea.

Me “Where’s the money you owe me?”

Him “On the table”

Me “Nope. No money on any table”

After ignoring me, and his girlfriend apologizing on his behalf via Instagram, he proceeded to write me a laundry list of complaints and justifications. He harped about how I was so frugal (facts, he’s not wrong there.) and inconsiderate for not offering to split the cost of the kettle and extra pots and pans he got. ”The water and biscuits is all that I owe you.” Let’s get this straight… Your pots and pans, which I have not once in my life used, is my responsibility to pay for? And were you planning on taking a chainsaw to that kettle so we could share it when you left less than a month after you got it?

What else was in that list of complaints, was that I would bring guys over. I’m sorry that me getting more ass than you was making you jealous, but you could’ve told me that you didn’t like it. How am I supposed to know if you don’t tell me you stupid bitch? (The satisfaction I just got from calling him that is indescribable)

I do however greatly appreciate his closing. “Sincerely yours, Ben” I literally laughed out loud when I read that. I’m pretty sure my neighbors thought I just saw the dankest meme. He tried to hurt my feelings, and then sound intelligent, but he failed to do either.

Did I mention he lied to the landlady saying he had no money to fly home, guilt tripping her into giving him his half of the down deposit, and making it impossible for me to get mine? Anyways, I don’t want him to get coronavirus and die or anything. I still care, kind of. I hope he gets off the couch and does something with his life. I hope his laziness turns to ambition and drive. I hope his selfishness transforms to kindness and consideration. It’s far-fetched but miracles can happen.

What did I get from all of this besides a satisfying blog post? The ultimate acceleration for growth and change. I’ve learned to let go and find acceptance and gratitude in the chaos. It made me realize how strong I’ve become over the years. I’m so excited to have my own space and love the building I will be moving into. I really think that this is the beginning of one of the best chapters of my life! This coming chapter certainly would not have been as good if he was still around. Even if the process to get to a better life feels shitty, everything always works out for the best!

I’m in Limbo

CF605C7B-995B-424A-918A-476260790158 Every store in The Old Quarter is shut down. The usually chaotic and loud streets of Hanoi, are now filled with an eerie silence, with the occasional sounds of a puttering engine from a motorbike passing by. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think an apocalypse was about to take place.

It’s Tet, the Lunar New Year. That means, for 10 days, Vietnam will be as lively as the dude who works behind the bar I go to, who has a permanent resting bitch face, and moves at the pace of my friend before her morning coffee. This means I have 10 days with nowhere to go, no place to workout, and 10 days without my favorite vegan chickpea sandwich.

Right now, I have as much stability as a girl in heels standing on one leg, trying to take off a pair on Spanx, blindfolded. You’re welcome for the imagery I just created in your mind. I’m in between jobs, and have not a single obligation. I have no idea what is to come after Tet. As for now, it’s a waiting game.

Normally, this would be the devils playground. My twisted mind typically lives for these moments of uncertainty and instability. Then it can fuck with me, and sit back and relax as it enjoys the shit show called my anxiety ridden life. Not this time, motherfucker.

I’m not sure what has changed. I know what triggers me and how I tend to handle certain situations, but now things are different. I have more faith. Not only faith that the world has my back, but that I also have my back.

I’m genuinely enjoying this time of nothingness, indulging in more snacks than I want to admit, and being a hoe because there’s nowhere to go, nothing to do, and I have a dating App. I’m not worried about what will happen because I’m here in the moment, and I know everything will work out. I’m excited about what’s to come if anything.

What. The. Fuck. You don’t understand how weird it is that I have nothing to do, no future plans, all of this uncertainty, and I’m chillin’ like a villain. I do however feel a bit lame for actually writing chillin’ like a villain. Like, who says that these days? This chilled out bitch, that’s who.

I don’t think I’ve ever been so okay not knowing what’s going to happen. It’s because the more I go through life, the more I trust the unfolding of it. When I experience hardships, I grow and learn. When I succeed, I have gratitude. There’s never a moment in life where I’m not moving forward. I may feel like I’m in limbo during Tet, but my mindset shows me that I’m still moving up.

What Will I Do Once My Dream is Over

I have plenty of dreams, and one that I’ve had for the longest time is about to come true. In a few days I’ll be in Japan. If I got tattoos of things I’ve been obsessed with at some point in my life, I’d probably have a Hello Kitty tramp stamp, manga sleeve, all that Morning Glory store crap on my calves, a miso soup face tattoo, and throw in a couple geishas and Harajuku girls while I’m at it.

When I think about going to Japan now, I get so excited, but I also instantly picture that money emoji with wings flying away. I will try to make that forever tomorrow’s problem. What I am unnecessarily making today’s problem is finding out what to do once my dream is over.

Like I said, I have plenty of dreams, but when this one is over, I don’t have a plan of what step to take next. Im going back to a country where I have no home, or idea what will happen. The world is my oyster, and though that is a dream to many including myself, it’s an overwhelming amount of responsibility and choices. I trust that it will all unfold as it should, or as my friend’s tattoo says “It’ll probably be fine.” That said, it made me think about what more I can do to help me through the phase when a dream is over.

I’ve come to realize, the easiest way to move through this, is to get excited about the next phase, step, or event of my life. It could be acknowledging the tremendous growth this next chapter will bring, my next trip, or that dream that I get the feels just thinking about. As long as it’s not triggering in some way, focusing on another dream, event, or positive thought, will have me smiling because it happened rather than crying because it’s over.

However, focusing on a dream is not to say forget about where you are. This is not a day dream to take you to Neverland. If you feel like shit, acknowledge and process your feelings. Know that your mind is afraid but your heart knows what to do and will guide you if you let it. Then remember more is on its way.

This may be the end of one dream, but there are plenty more dreams to be fulfilled and that will come true. All that exists is the present and I know that sounds cliche as fuck but it’s the truth and you know it. In times like these, it’s when I need to focus and consciously do what I can to move forward with a positive mindset. I’d be lying if I said it would be a walk in the park, but I’ll be walking on sunshine if I make the effort.

I’m not saying this because I think I know it all or feel like you don’t know wtf you’re doing. I’m saying this because it helps be process my feelings and walk on sunshine. I also do this in the hopes you’ll be able to join me on my walk in the sun too.

The Time I Almost Died in Vietnam

Everything was going so smoothly my first several months traveling. Almost too smooth. Then, it all started with a bang, and by bang I mean me swinging the bathroom stall door against the wall while leaving a trail of vomit behind me.

Several hours later, I’m in the hospital in a developing country. One would think that would be the cause of my near death experience abroad. That however, along with loosing my debit card and breaking my phone within the same week, should have been taken as a warning sign for what was to come.

I had no card, no phone, and very few endorphins left in my brain. My friend James, who I met because I was forced to ask people to lend me money, offered to give me a ride on a motorbike to get my phone fixed. We borrowed our hostels motorbike, and headed towards what should have been a 17 minute journey to the phone repair shop.

The wind in my hair, and optimism in my mind, came to a halt as we approached a more than mildly terrifying intersection. Not because the roads looked like a challenge even for the Fast and Furious crew, but because we ran out of gas. We got off the road as quickly as we could. James guided the bike towards a little rundown convenient store on the corner as I walked by his side. At that point, I found the situation pretty comical, and would be lying if I said his frustration didn’t make it funnier.

We started trying to communicate with a local there which turned into a game of charades.

“I don’t know what the fuck this guy is trying to say.” James said in aggravation.

“I know this sounds crazy, but I think he wants me to get on the back of his bike, and for you to get on ours. I don’t know. Let’s just do it.” I said as I hopped onto the back of a strangers motorbike.

I furrowed my eyebrows as I watched the man stick his leg out like he was Jackie Chan about to kick down the bike James sat on. Instead, he hooked his foot onto our bike and put his keys in the ignition.

Next thing you know, I’m flying down a four-way highway during rush hour as James is being pushed along by this mans foot. Cars and bikes were swerving around us and beeping like it was their day job. We arrived at an intersection with so many cars and bikes, you could barely see the pavement.

I closed my eyes tightly and figured at least if I died, I went out with a bang traveling the world. I heard James repeatedly say “Oh my God.” as we made our way through. When I opened my eyes, I felt like I could conquer the world even though I really didn’t do shit. James stared back at me as if to say “Is this real life?” And we both began to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

To say getting sick, loosing my card, and breaking my phone put a damper on things would have been an understatement. It was the kind of damp that reeked of mildew as it tried to dry in a plastic bag.

Maybe I’m being a bit dramatic because there was so much good that came from all of those situations. It’s easy to be so caught up in the moment, that we don’t see the beauty in it. Sometimes the events in life that make us want to hit our heads against the wall, or nearly kill us, end up being the memories we wouldn’t trade for the world.

Six Days of Silence: Journal Entries From My Silent Meditation Retreat

A06FE6BC-3B5F-4617-B8AA-051C0B97DDFF 7/28/19

What does someone want to get from attending a silent meditation retreat at a monastery in Northern Thailand? It varies. Some may simply want to find stillness and peace, and others go with the intention to find themselves. Who knows, maybe the dude with a giant man bun made of dreads infront of me wants to levitate back home in a state of enlightenment.
I’m doing this to put myself out of my comfort zone because that’s where change happens. I go to grow. I don’t want to have expectations or a desired outcome. I want to see what the experience will bring me. Granted, if I were to have chosen a desired outcome, I probably would have wanted to leave turning water into wine, so I’d just be setting myself up for disappointment.
The highlight of my first day at the monastery was opening my eyes after a lying down meditation practice, only to realize I had fallen asleep. By that point, everyone else was sitting up, listening attentively to a monk sitting on the stage infront of a giant golden buddah statue. I made eye contact with a woman next to me who was clearly amused by my state of shock. I couldn’t blame her. I was too. Still, I internally judged her for not waking me up.
Now it’s day two. Considering the fact I talk like an auctioneer and eat like an elephant, the whole shutting up and fasting thing is going much better than expected. Almost too good. Maybe I’ll start to go insane tomorrow. That’s what most people had been telling me would happen at some point. That said, every experience is unique, and only time will tell. Highlight of day two was appreciating the beauty during a walking meditation practice.
*3 hours later* I was upgraded to a single dorm suit. Is it too materialistic and un-zen of me for that to be the new highlight of my day?
7/31/19

It’s certainly not getting easier, but I’m up for the challenge. At least I’m not looking like the young man sitting to my left. I haven’t seen someone fidget around so much since I was at the LIB music festival, but they were happy and on drugs.
Breakdown of my unconscious thoughts today goes as followed.
86% unnecessary worry and overthinking (Like I think the fact that I didn’t buy a souvenir in Sweden isn’t going to kill me, but the heart palpitations I get thinking about it during my meditation practice say otherwise)
12% comparing and judging myself (There’s no doubt all this pad thai has been taking a toll though)
2% other (probably food related)
Fun stuff.

8/2/19

As my time at the Wat Pa Tam Wua Forest Monastery comes to an end, I think it’s safe to say I won’t be walking out of here turning water into wine. Instead I’ll be walking away with something even greater. Mindfulness and a deeper sense of self. WAIT ! Before you internally roll your eyes and think “Dis generic ass bitch serious right now? I could have guessed that.” Understand that I’m not spitting those words out to sound like every basic bitch that travels Asia and floods her instagram with her adventures (Yes, I do that too, so no judgement there. @mindartists)
It’s not the awareness like “I’m aware Im eating right now.” Don’t get me wrong, it’s great to not mindlessly shovel food in your face like the day before you decide to start a diet. The mindfulness I speak of goes deeper.
It’s like getting a free Disney Fastpass to avoid the lines full of ungrateful grimy children and foreigners who have no sense of awareness or boundaries. You pass them instead of resentfully standing behind wondering what happened to your own morals and patience. You detach yourself from what you once identified so closely with, giving you a sense of liberation and peace. There’s certainly more on this topic, so stay tuned for a future blog post. For now, I’m signing out.

Best wishes always,
Your slightly more enlightened friend,
Brooke Lyn

Are You Actually Worrying Too Much, Or Just Too Soon?

pexels-photo-262075 My mom’s German boyfriend, who I refer to as “The Germ,” told my mother, “You don’t worry too much, you worry too soon.” Props to The Germ for that gem.

Although I wouldn’t entirely agree in my case because I can certainly worry too much as well, I believe that The Germ is right. Heck, I spent all of last week hyperventilating about a “what if” scenario that didn’t even come close to happening.

Imagine if we never worried too soon, or we never worried at all? What if worrying isn’t a natural human response or state of being, but we’ve collectively agreed it’s the norm? Food for thought.

A lot of people don’t think worrying is a big deal, so they wait until it’s unbearable, and something must be done. I’m at the point in life where I feel I’ve suffered enough, and I am ready to do something before a midlife crisis happens. (Though I’m pretty sure I’ve already had about 12 of those.) What can be done to help us chill out?

Acknowledging that we’ve created a habit of worry is a good place to start. Just like any habit, when we’ve done it enough, it becomes second nature. If we start acknowledging worry as a habit, rather than linking the feeling with our identity, we can start to reclaim our power. Our perspective will shift objectively and positively by looking at worry through that lens.

I know it’s annoying as shit to hear someone say all you have is now, you just have to wait and see, or be in the moment when you have a flat tire on Route 101, and you’re worried you’re going to miss your favorite barre class. That said, it’s true. Nothing else exists but now. The past is an illusion from our limited perspective, and the future is nothing but our imagination. When we worry, it is never coming from this moment in time. It’s coming from our programming of what we believe might have or will happen. A habit of thought.

Becoming aware of our worries, and taking those moments to transform our fears into a practice of mindfulness and presence, will help us not worry too soon. We will progress so long as we keep trying. It may Not be easy at times, but no mud, no lotus.

I Don’t Know What the Fuck I’m Doing, and it’s a Masterpiece

photo-1493321384838-70c5a85ba487 Waves of indecision and uncertainty crash over me like an infant playing too close to the ocean. What will happen as I go solo backpacking through Asia? What am I even doing there? Whenever I choose to return, or if I do, where should I set roots? I try to convince myself I know what I’m doing and put my mind at ease. Truth is, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but it’s a masterpiece. Here’s why.

Although I may be mildly hyperventilating on a daily basis, I am now the artist of my life. I’m consciously creating my masterpiece rather than blindly making the same images, and using similar colors, that society or others have projected onto me. I’m using my gut, the true designer of life, rather than my mind, which repeatedly tells me to use the same palette to keep me safe and comfortable.

When I walk into the unknown, I feel the invisible bondage of expectations, assumptions, and familiarity evaporate into nothingness, where the beginning of everything lives. It’s unsettling, unnerving, and exhilarating. It’s living.

We are conditioned to think it’s bad to be uncertain of what the future holds, or to not know what the next step is, because it makes us feel uneasy. There’s this unspoken pressure to “have your shit together” which often goes hand in hand with other’s unrealistic expectations of what they think our lives should look like. The uneasiness and change we think are bad are catalysts for forward movement.

I can’t count the amount of times people have told me, “I could never do what you’re doing.” In fact, I heard it today.

My response was “ I don’t feel like I can either, but if I waited until I did, I would never do it.”

It feels chaotic, but chaos is creation in disguise. Chaos, change, and discomfort are masterpiece that is often only acknowledged as such after the fact. Remember, in times of chaos, there’s creation. It’s life giving you a blank canvas. Are you going to create the same image you’ve always made with that clean slate? Will it be a scene that makes your heart ache or sing? Once you embrace the artist you are, it becomes your choice and responsibility to create your masterpiece.

My mind tells me I’m not ready, I have doubts, I feel fear. With that, I also have a blank canvas. It may get messy, and I’m certainly no Michelangelo, but I know I have the freedom to make a masterpiece designed by none other than me.

The Void of a Vice

photo-1486572788966-cfd3df1f5b42 My therapist told me when I want to emotionally eat, I should journal instead, so here I am. In an ideal world, I’d be double fisting granola on the kitchen island with no consequences or ill intent to mask discomfort. This, however, is my world, where my relationship with food is about as damaged as my friend’s iphone. She nearly needs stitches when she swipes the screen.

It’s interesting to me how we ALL have our vices to deal with during this crazy thing called life, yet some go unnoticed as an escape or way to avoid feelings. Overindulge in food, drugs, nicotine, alcohol, or sex, and it’s “You need help. You have a problem.”

Yet overindulging in television, social media, exercise, shopping, and caffeine, and it’s “You gotta do what you gotta do. It’s the 21st century.”

Sometimes, it’s even considered a form of self-care, when it’s anything but that. More often than not, it’s a way to escape feelings that are dying to be addressed and processed. Instead of becoming aware of our emotions and processing them in healthy ways, people go to processed foods or go through the process of picking the next Instagram-worthy photo.

The first step to avoid our vices is having the awareness that multiple times every day, we are using them to avoid something deeper. If we take a moment to pause each time we impulsively reach for our phone to scroll through Facebook, or call a friend because we’re “bored”, we may be surprised what comes up.

One day I opened the fridge to chow down on some carrots and paused.

“What am I really hungry for?” I asked myself when I took a moment to reflect and acknowledge I was acting impulsively and wasn’t hungry.

I closed the fridge and started to cry. “What the actual fuck?” I thought to myself in disbelief.

I became aware that my boredom and loneliness resulted in needing a vice before my consciousness could acknowledge my emotions. Feelings of abandonment and sadness surged over me. I felt like such a little bitch because essentially I started crying over carrots, but it was so therapeutic and enlightening.

Just because I have a vice does not mean something is wrong with me, and the same goes for you. Awareness gives you an opportunity to reclaim your power that is always available to you but easily forgotten. Be more aware when you act impulsively or reach for your vice. Pause, reflect, acknowledge, and claim your power.

Ultimately, the goal is being okay being alone with yourself, your thoughts, and your emotions. It’s being there for yourself like you’d be there for a friend, without a vice. So here I am, claiming my power and being constructive about it. But damn, that granola still looks good.

When Your Well Has Run Dry

pexels-photo-874730 Imagine a bird in the middle of the Masada desert, who can’t fly for shit. No water in sight. The well has run dry. What now?

Sometimes we’re that bird. We get stuck in a rut, and because of fears and insecurities, we stare at an empty well as our mouths turn to sand paper and our words turn to sawdust.

We fixate on the well that has run dry, instead of flying to a new one. We trap ourselves in the constructs of our limiting beliefs, and we don’t even try to fly.

Finally, we get the courage to fly, only to end up at another dry well. “God damnit, climate change.” We blame the outside world because we are blinded by our own patterns of self sabotage.

The reality is, we’re as free as a bird. A bird who knows it can soar beyond the mountains that stand between the dry desert and the crystal water. A bird who trusts in its ability to fly from the nest and into an environment where there’s an innate knowing they will thrive. A bird who sees every well as a beautiful detour rather than a desolate destination.

A well that has run dry is not proof that we’re not good enough, or that we’re out of luck. It’s a sign to move our wings and our point of focus.