recovery or recovering

Today I feel like I am "doing recovery" rather than recovering.  I think you have to have experienced recovery in some form for that to fully make sense.  I am tired.  But I'm tired because I'm depressed not because I haven't gotten enough sleep.

Yesterday, once again, I begged God to heal me.  I promised Him the world, just make this heaviness go away.  PLEASE!  Instead He filled my ride to work with songs about trusting God even through the pain, songs about how His love doesn't fail us even through the dark times, songs of reassurance but no songs of healing.

So once again, with a heavy heart, I am asked to trust what I cannot feel.  And I do.  And I will.  Even if the heaviness never leaves, He is God and He is good.

I saw this on Facebook last week.  I have to share it because it is true.

Yeah, I really am glad.  I'm glad you're here still.  I'm even glad I'm here still.  Keep pressing on.  Keep hanging on.  Keep doing recovery even when you feel like you are doing recovery not recovering.  Keep putting one foot in front of the other.  Keep doing the next right thing.  And next year we can all gather around each other and be glad that we are still here. 

live free or die trying

My day started yesterday with scripture going through my head.  Thank God that it did because I needed that to carry me through the rest of the day. (I'm just writing right now, not looking up the reference because I'm on a limited amount of time.)

"It is for freedom that Christ has set you free."

Hmmmmm, freedom.  What does it really mean to live free?  I pondered the question through the morning.  I looked up the definition of free in my lovely Webster's Dictionary on my desk. 

 

free: adj  1.not imprisioned or constrained 2. not under necessity or obligation .....

4a.not affected by a specified circumstance or condition......7a. not being occupied or used

freeing 1.to set at liberty 2. to release or rid 3. to untangle or clear

 

Free.  I'm not feeling very free right now.  How do I live in the freedom that Christ has given me?  How do I live not imprisioned to eating disorders?  What exactly does that look like?

 

Ok, now fast forward to later in the day.  I'm surrounded by people who have decided that mexican is the fare for the day.  Already struggling, this was a bit of a freaky choice for me but I was bound and determined to get over myself and enjoy the time together.  But then they talked about weight, hunger cues, body image, NUMBERS, and everyone had an opinion about eating disorders that they felt the need to share.  It isn't what you think it is.  It isn't about what you think it is about. 

 

Is it about weight and size?  Yes, but not in a vain sort of way, because it isn't actually about weight and size at all.  I don't care what the measurements say, what society says, what friends say, I am convinced that my hips are huge.  What I see when I look in the mirror, though not truth, is still what I see! It isn't really about society saying skinny is good, but it is about the fact that I feel like the less physical space I take up then the less people will see me.  I sometimes really do long to be invisible and let no one see the hurts inside of me.

 

I texted Hubby, I told him that I wanted to run and hide.  I told him that I wanted to curl up under the covers.  I told him that I just wanted to get drunk.  Yes, go ahead and hold that shocked face and wag your finger at me.  Good Christian girls sometimes just want to get drunk to escape their reality too!  I wanted to escape but there was no where to escape to. 

 

Did they know that the voices in my head were already loud?  Did they know that the conversation made the voices turn to screaming and demeaning?  The orange inside of my head hates that I still ate with them.  The orange inside of my head is telling me that I'm not worth taking care of.  The orange inside of my head is angry, really really angry.  And she is letting me know it.

 

And somehow in the midst of it all, I still find a little part of me that really wants freedom.  There is a little part that wants to not live affected by a specified condition.  There is a part of me that wants to live not under necessity or obligation.  That voice needs to start talking louder than the voice of slavery and quickly.  That seed of longing needs to produee something bigger than the seed of hatred that demands that I am not good enough and that I need to be punished.

sometimes ignorance IS bliss

Thank you my dear friend for helping me fight today by feeding my family.  We are all grateful, me beyond words. 

Words fail me in trying to describe the battle inside of me.  I want to explain but it doesn't make sense.  Maybe it is better to stop trying to explain.  My thoughts are scary, vocalized they become terrifying. 

Day 2 Invisible

 



I always felt invisible as a child.  I was certain that no one knew me, that if I disappeared that only my dad or Grandma Jody would miss me.  I only felt visible when I was in trouble.  I hated being in trouble though so being invisible seemed like a much better deal.  I've spent my life longing for people to really know me.

I never believed my husband when we were newly dating and he would tell me the guys that he specifically knew of who were jealous that he was the one I was dating.  Those guys never liked me, they didn't even know I existed!  Or so I thought.  Apparently I was the only one who knew I was invisible.

I was never invisible to Hubby.  He pursued me from the beginning.  Long before we dated I was what made his world keep spinning.  He was my best friend and he made me feel like a queen every time we were together.  I felt seen and known for the first time in my entire life when he came into my world.

I've always felt a little socially awkward.  The real struggle with invisibility though came during relapse.  I wanted my body to be invisible.  I wanted no one to ever see me or notice me.  I was embarrassed that I even needed a body and that I existed in a state of matter.  And yet, I so desperately wanted someone to see me.  I wanted someone to know how much I hurt.  I wanted to matter but I didn't want to be seen.  I wanted to be invisible the whole while begging for someone to not let me fade away.

I still sometimes feel like I want to fade away.  I still sometimes feel invisible.  I have found, though, that the more that I use my voice, the more that I stand up for me, the less invisible I feel and the less I wish to feel invisible. 

I hope I can be the hope that I once needed.  To see someone who feels unseen.  To know someone who needs to be known and is afraid to be seen.  To bring compassion and grace to someone who is hurt.  To care enough to not let someone else fade away.

Post It note frenzy

Today I sat outside in the sun with my lunch and my thoughts.  The weather was beautiful and the fresh air was needed.  The problem was that  I didn't really want to eat my lunch.  I sat trying to remember why I needed to eat it.  I sent my friend a message telling her that I couldn't remember why I needed lunch.  She sent back the perfect words.  So perfect that I copied them to a Post It note and put it on my computer.

It has been really hard to remember lately why sick was bad.  I keep trying to remember the things I hated about being sick, but much like delivering a child, time has a whiskey effect and it doesn't seem as bad as I know it was.  Orange seems like a comforting friend holding her hand out to me and it hurts to turn my back and keep walking.  I know she can't really comfort me but she keeps promising that she can, that this time she has really changed, that she won't abuse her power anymore.

So tonight I made more sticky notes.  I made more notes of why I need to eat.  I have notes to put in or on that adorable new lunch bag I just got.  I have reasons that eating is important.

How about you?  Anything to add?  What reasons do you eat when you desperately want to avoid food?  Do you write them down?

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.

I exist

I do something ridiculous.  I walk sideways down the stairs at work when I wear heels.  When I walk sideways or even on my toes, my shoes can be kept from making that way-too-loud-for-such-a-quiet-space sound.  But what I realize even more is that the sound means I exist.  Even when I walk I am trying to exist as little as possible. 

I want to live an adventure but I don't want to exist.  Doesn't make sense?  Yeah, I know, too much about living with an eating disorder doesn't make sense. 

I am doing ok.  Not spectacular but not bottoming out either.  And yet I still cringe at the mere fact that I exist.  My body existing in numbers pisses me off.  The fact that I need a body pisses me off.  I want to live but I hate existing.  I hate that my shoes make noise on the stairs, it is just more proof that I cannot disappear, that I take up space.  I want to fade into the background somewhere and not be noticable.

How can I feel good about life and yet terrible about living in the same sentence?  How can I be content with my life and hate that my body takes up space at the same moment?  How can I feel loved and lonely simultaneously?