too much, too soon

So my last post was a cheery, upbeat piece where I’m basically basking in the victory glow. Woe is me, I celebrated too soon. I forgot a key truth: E.d. requires 100% vigilance. You can’t afford to drop your guard. And the day after the biggest success can be your weakest. So yep, I failed. And was pretty down about it but didn’t let it ruin my week.

Conclusion: why does e.d. have to be such a sneaky little bastard! Or maybe not…this occurred at night, I was so tired, there was tons of food, I had tea on my full juicy stomach, which is a lethal combination for acid reflux…What did I expect! Basically, I was tired and lazy and riding on last week’s victory wave, figuring I’d make it again. Nope. You can’t afford to show any weakness, any softness, to your enemy. Ever.

Another conclusion: sometimes, I feel annoyed by what a first world problem e.d. is. I feel guilty for still stressing over food when other people are starving, being herded into refugee camps, homeless, jobless, dying, beaten…There is so much “real suffering“ going on, my trials can seem very trivial and inconsequential in comparison. Then I remember how I live in a country where obesity is a real issue, I come from a country where obesity is an even bigger issue, and God cares about my cares. No matter how small they seem.

And as I am over the worst of the hill, I see the silver linings. As N said to me earlier this week, he is glad I didn’t get better in the US because if I had, I probably would have stayed there, maybe married someone there, and we most likely wouldn’t have met. After all, wholesome people with less serious issues are the marrying kind, right! (hah!) And as I have thought countless times, my journey with e.d., depression, anxiety etc., gave me a new empathy, compassion and understanding for the countless others who struggle with addictions and mental illness of some sort.

For instance, just this past weekend, a  childhood friend opened her heart, expressing the anger, hurt and unforgiveness she has towards her abusive, religious father, and how it’s affected her view of God and Christianity. I watched her as she angry gesticulated, chain-smoking away, and the pain and confusion in her eyes was almost tangible. I shared more pieces of my own story with her, offering hope. I sense she’s not ready to take the surrender plunge yet, but I know God has His hand on her and I must be patient and trust that full freedom is coming for her, and her family.

Sometimes, I feel like life is one giant puzzle, one giant problem to be solved day by day. And I get tired of it, tired of people’s issues, tired of my own, tired of bad news, tired of washing the same dishes day after day…Then I remember, this is the price of free will. This is what we have done. Jesus didn’t want Eve to eat the apple. Jesus didn’t want me to be abused. But the apple was there. The choice was there. We are more than robots, we were made to make our own choices and as we know the true Father, and what it means to love Him, then we are truly free. Sin has been defined as a “lack of moral perfection,´´ in other words, when we humans try to live out of our own strength and understanding, we can make these kinds of choices. And then, God works to bring good out of what the enemy intended for evil, as I see in my own awesome marriage, which I wouldn’t trade for anything.

Those that abuse, those who kill, what’s in their consciences? My friend’s father, singing God’s praises in church one day and hitting my friend the next, what is in his heart?

And me, who do I reconcile my heart knowledge and head knowledge? Every day, my heart beats with a blind hope and a blind faith, and sometimes, I cry over the dishes, longing for what not yet is. Some days I just cry, other day I eat too much, read stupid crap, snap at my husband, leave the dishes for the next day.

I don’t belong here, but I must stay for now, striving towards the light, everyday trying to reflect more of my Father’s light in my thoughts, attitudes and choices. I must stay and continue in this healing process of my own problems, first world though they may be. 🙂

How hard it is sometimes.

B-day conundrums

It’s been quite the week. Social to the max, which has not been super fun for me, recovered as I am from e.d.. There was so much food, lots of delicious foods that in the past would be strictly labeled as “bad,´´ and “unsafe,“ thus to be avoided and/or puked out once eaten. Much to my relief and sense of well-being, there was no puking this week though there was some regurgitation. Still, it was not perfect. But that’s ok. Even my babiest of steps matter to God! So here, some snapshots:

Tuesday night: Birthday, so loads of birthday food and we didn’t leave till after midnight. By 11, I was so sleepy and picking from the peanut dish nonstop more to stay awake than anything else. By 12, was throwing up bits of peanut and olive in my mouth, but determinedly swallowed it down. Next day, felt bloaty, tired and blah, but managed to eat well and even get a nap in. Points: 7/10.

Thursday night: house church. N and I had supper before going, not knowing it was someone’s b-day too,  thus, my favorite kind of cake was served, not to mention the sandwiches and chips and dips. N came to the rescue by eating most of my cake and I might have been eating the chips more for fun than anything else, but overall, it was fine. 8/10.

Saturday all day: Another birthday and this one was nothing but a food extravaganza. Steak, sides, two kinds of cake and cupcakes, and we were there from 3 to 7. N and I had a tiny fight over my steak (he thought it was too much, I was HUNGRY, darn it!) and then ruthlessly stared me down as I ate the frosting and filling in the cake and left the rest. I know I overindulged and I paid the price as the creamy mess tried to come back up, but I forced it down. Points: 6/10.

Sunday afternoon: ANOTHER BIRTHDAY! (wipes brow). Didn’t eat till 4 something (and that was supposed to be LUNCH) and it was at a seafood restaurant. Everyone was sampling off each other’s plates, sampling the appetizers, just sampling and eating away. I was determined not to be that annoying salad girl AGAIN (a topic for a whole other post!) so compromised with salmon and grilled vegetables. Of course, I was served like half a salmon, but managed to leave most of it to carry home. I was feeling awesome just for that haha, until the group decided to go for ice cream. N and I shared a dish but still it was a LOT of ice cream, and the rest of the people couldn’t even finish theirs, so again, we were all sampling from each other’s dishes and N and I, since we had started out with less, ended up picking at the ice cream our fellow diners were unable to finish (Sweet irony! Even man’s best efforts can be for naught, haha.) It was delicious and rich and creamy and I felt sicker and sicker with every bite I took but still, it was (almost) worth it. And afterward we went for a long walk and even as ice cream was coming up in my throat, I felt happy. As I told N, ¨This is what healthy eaters do…You eat some ice cream, you feel full and maybe even a little sick, but you don’t throw it up. And tomorrow, you don’t even want ice cream.’’ Points: 9/10.

So I am still happy…even as N is texting me now to tell me we have another birthday celebration at 9 tonight. What! Maybe March is a popular birthday month in Chile? So yep, I am going and I might be tired, I might be a little bored, I might be tempted to pick and even puke. But I won’t. My recovering life now is so rich and meaningful, even when it isn’t a birthday week. And I remain so grateful, grateful for the friends, family and even this wonderful food I get to eat. God is good.

what’s what

Long time no see! Again, this scene strikes me as familiar; me, bundled up in N’s giant puffy jacket, sipping hot coffee, staring out at the gray sky, too many thoughts bouncing around my skull.

One particularly positive thought is that I really have turned a corner with e.d.. Thanks to some recent changes in my personal life,  my sense of inner peace has skyrocked and my very core feels stronger. What’s more, N’s  unflagging support and forgiveness, despite all the lies and shifty behavior from my part, has bolstered my efforts to eat well, basically, live well. Because, to eat is to live, eh? Though we don’t live to eat. However, I really got that mixed up when I turned food into sort of a reward, highlight of the day, thing. Really, when I was in the worst of e.d., the idea of burying my stress and emotional pain through a pile of cookies, leftovers, chips, whatever, was the proverbial dangling carrot on the stick at the end of a long day. I would rather eat (and throw up) than go out with friends, read a good book, bike ride, go on a walk, all those activities I used to enjoy before e.d. got the upper hand so strongly. E.d. (was written about in previous post) was my gross god and I worshiped it accordingly.

And now, as its sticky tentacles are finally completely slipping off, my days are so much more than my meals. I have real zest for my marriage, my spiritual life, my work, my friends, my hobbies, my housework, even the cooking part….Now, the thoughts in my head are more centered around these things instead of the tired old refrains such as What am going to eat, When should I eat, How much is safe, Uh oh, I feel like I am losing control, I am dying to throw up, blablabla.

Also, something I read on an e.d. blog stuck with me, this being, I have to talk my brain into believing I AM my new behavior. Or something like that.

My old patterns were something like:  eat to feel relief, eat too much then feel bad, thus throw up to feel relief again. Now, I am simply telling myself day in and day out, I am not bulimic anymore. I don’t do this behavior. It’s now a foreign behavior. I eat to live and I enjoy food and that’s it.

I think the idea is that I keep fooling my brain into thinking this until the reality is so engrained that the mere idea of throwing up will be impossible.

And N’s support, not to mention better sleeping, have been incalculably helpful. Still, I must admit, I’m a little ashamed that it has taken N to help stick the final nail in e.d.’s coffin. I suspect that without this love I have for him, this would be impossible or at least, take even longer. How I wish I could’ve done it just for God and myself. I wish my faith and self love could’ve been enough. And who knows, maybe it would’ve been. Maybe even if I hadn’t met and married N, I would’ve fully recovered someday.

Still, I am not sure. And does that make me less of a Christian? Maybe some would think so. But I think God knew what I needed best and He gave it to me, because He’s a Good Father, and He had recognized my pitiful, fumbling attempts to do the right thing and knows exactly what kind of support is ideal for me.

For this I am eternally grateful and I trust to continue this upward journey, with Him and my husband faithfully at my side.

gross, god or gift?

Hey blog, long time no see. It is a cold, gray day in Puerto Montt, Chile and I have a good space of time and lots bubbling in my head, so might as well write.

It`s been a decent week so far. Not as clean as I’d have liked with eating, but still, plenty of victories so I’ll focus on those. And I had an interesting conversation with N, when I remembered an old pastor of mine who once gave a sex talk to me and the other young adults. In it, he discussed how God intends for us to see sex as a Gift, a beautiful, sacred gift that when used correctly, is wonderful and for our good. However, as humans living in a fallen world, we have the tendency to see it as a “god“ (obsessed with it, distracted by it) or “gross“ (something not to be talked about, something dirty, shameful, embarrassing).

I was connecting this illustration to my e.d.. In the past, e.d. was my gross god. I worshiped it, feared it, obeyed it unquestionably, all while wallowing in the shame and guilt it produced.

Now, on this rocky recovery road, I try to see food as a good gift, one that brings energy, strength, life, while being enjoyed.

Sadly, I still struggle with feeling gross after eating, even if it’s a perfectly decent food and portion size. I also still struggle with the distractions of food calling me when I am alone and feeling lonely, sad, happy, angry, frustrated, etc…Basically, I have used food to relieve my emotions or accompany them so many times and I am still unlearning this tendency.

Just yesterday, for example, I joined N at his workplace, and couldn’t stop picking at some peanuts his assistant left out. I did buy some to replace them, so what?! Why did I do that? Was I bored? Was I stressed about something? Was I hungry?

Maybe I was a little hungry, but I think really, I am more stressed, since I’ll be seeing an old flame this weekend. Actually, the one I broke up with when I met N. So yeah, there is no way that can be navigated without a little bit of awkwardness (his new girlfriend, sister and dad will also be here!).

Yikes. But today, I must be cool, calm and centered. God is bigger then all of this and He is main recovery coach. He gave me food as a gift, to be used accordingly, and I really desire to do so. So please help today me, this moment and for the rest of this day. Please and thank you!

on obedience

I haven´t written for awhile, partially out of laziness but also because my laptop’s letter n wasn´t working. I have a new computer though. About time!

So how has life been? Interesting and challenging as usual. I´ve enjoyed planning the trip to the US with N, playing the piano, reading, time with family…

I was thinking about the idea of being grateful for e.d because in navigating the labyrinth towards a full(er) recovery, I´ve gotten to really know who I am and gain a deeper understanding and appreciation for myself and the world and people around me.

I was also thinking of the verses in Hebrews 5:8-7: During the days of Jesus’ earthly life, He offered up prayers and petitions with loud cries and tears to the One who could save Him from death, and He was heard because of His reverence. 8Although He was a Son, He learned obedience from what He suffered,9and having been made perfect, He became the source of eternal salvation to all who obey Him.^

How incredible to ponder that even Jesus learned obedience from suffering. I don´t think I fully understand it, but I do think that through my travels in the labyrinth with e.d.,  I have learned that only perfect obedience, down to the smallest details, can bring true joy.

I know that I was never downright rebellious and stubborn towards God. I was more or less indifferent and apathetic, because my inner pain was such that it blocked everything out. But after going to the School of Grace and having my true God encounter, I came to believe with all my heart, mind and soul that I am His daughter, and as such, it is my joyful duty and desire to love Him and obey His commands.

And I discovered, again and again, how disobedience brings nothing but pain and regret.

This past weekend, I disobeyed when I ate too much for lunch and didn´t swallow it when it started coming back up. I also disobeyed when I snuck some almonds out of my mom´s pantry, because, ¨`I can pay it back later,¨.

I disobeyed when I threw a (inner) hissy fit because N did something to tick me off.

I disobeyed when instead of having a much needed devotional, I read something else.

I disobey when I listen to my fears. When I choose to believe the lies.

And then I pay the price, as there is no rest in my soul. I become restless, flighty, disconnected, flaky.

 So today, I want to obey. 

The outcome is always better.