This hit me pretty hard…

As I stew longer and longer in this black kettle pot,

That I call my Eating Disorder,

It dawned on me today that even though I’m loved….

DESPITE of the,

Starving,

Binging,

Purging,

And EVERYTHING that goes with it,

The Good Lord does NOT want me to STAY this way!?!

JESUS, TAKE THE WHEEEL.

NOW!

Nope.

Deep, right?

He doesn’t WANT me to feel like there’s no hope….

Or that I feel like my soul is dying.

And He DEFINITELY doesn’t want me to give up.

You see, I can’t lie.

It’s been on my mind….

A LOT.

More than it should be!

Do I stay,

Or,

Do I go….

Now?

Lol, isn’t that a song?

In all seriousness-

It’s been 30 years of this shit.

30 YEARS.

Y.E.A.R.S.

How many days IS that??

Hang on….

Ok, it IS:

10, 950 days.

That is a LOT of seriously LOUSY days of trying to fight this.

Wow.

I’ve only been ALIVE for,

15, 330 of those days!?!

So….

I’ve NOT had an Eating Disorder for:

4, 380 of those days.

Damn.

That’s pretty lousy.

It also doesn’t include THIS year,

And its probably been one of the WORST in my entire ADULT life.

I also found out who my true Friends are, while IN and after treatment,

BUT,

That’s ANOTHER Blog.

SO!

I am acknowledging that God loves me,

And WANTS to see me change.

CHANGE.

Easier said than done,

Am I right!?

But the fact that He doesn’t want me to stay the “way” I am,

Hits me hard….

REAL hard,

But hard enough?

To…

CHANGE?

Yes.

And,

No.

Does it mean I love Jesus any less?

Or that HE loves me any less?

No.

I know THAT to be true.

However,

It doesn’t mean that I get to stay comfortable.

God DOES want change-

He expects it!

Ug.

I feel like I can’t,

Nor,

WILL,

Be able to actually DO it…..

Gahhhhh!

I lost a little weight while I was gone over the last 2 weeks,

No big shocker.

I didn’t realize just how much, until I saw my Husband’s face when I arrived home.

Honestly, I think he’s exaggerating a wee bit.

I felt, and FEEL, fine!?!

Hungry, but….

I got the “Talk”.

No real need to repeat, because it would be the same thing ALL my friends were thinking the entire week…..

EAT.

E.A.T. your Food.

NOW.

Quit being a stubborn CHILD, and eat your stinkin’ food!

Stop playing with it!

Do you REALLY need to cut it up into all of those teeny-tiny pieces!?!

WTF is WRONG with you!?!

Why can’t you just eat??

Why WON’T you just eat!?!

Aren’t you HUNGRY??

My friends definitely all THOUGHT it.

Their eyes and whispers said it all.

Yet,

NOT one actually had the courage to SAY anything….

Except for a one gal who KEPT asking me-

“Have you eaten yet?”

At first I’d lie, and say yes.

Then I just started saying no.

Walking away, worked, too.

Finally, I just told them to STOP, because it was making my anxiety even worse.

Then, I just stopped eating.

Oh sure, I’d eat a few bites here and there….

But sitting down and EATING at the table like a “normal” person was a bit too much.

So I didn’t.

And when I did?

I made EVERYONE around me uncomfortable.

I KNOW I did.

And it sucked.

Deep down?

I wished one of them HAD confronted me!

Had taken me by the shoulders and shaken some sense into me!?

Prayed WITH me??

SOMETHING.

I had fallen into a Rabbit hole and was clinging onto anything I could grasp on the way down.

I’d pretty much given up by week #2…..

My brain was not kind to me.

I found every day tasks to be extremely difficult.

I was tired.

SO tired.

I also realized just how much I needed ALONE time.

Coffee pushed me through.

And Jesus.

I learned quite a bit about His “TRUTH”, through the Bible…..

I loooonged for more Worship time,

And was feeling like I was getting back into my groove with God.

You see,

I love Jesus.

And He loves me.

ME.

THAT alone is something I have been secretly struggling with for the better part of this past year.

WHY would Jesus love me?

I am nothing.

A piece of chewed gum on the bottom of someone’s shoe.

That’s walked through mud.

And,

Shit.

Yep.

I DON’T get it.

I am definitely NOT worthy of it.

Not even for ONE second.

So what’s left to do?

Run.

Hide.

Refuse to talk OR listen to Him.

Thinking-

“I can do bad all by MYSELF!”

Someone wise said to me while at Camp-

“Yeah? How well is that working for you?”

Uhhhh…..

#TRUTHBOMB

The problem is…..

I haven’t learned to relinquish Control.

I WANT, no, NEED, to be IN control of what’s going on.

At all times.

Doesn’t EVERYONE?

Or is JUST me?

Because if I DON’T give up being Selfish, and wanting to be IN control?

I’ll NEVER be able to TRUST.

And ya GOTTA trust Jesus.

Or there is NO Friendship.

See my predicament?

It’s been HARD for me to not feel connected to the One I know I should BE.

My ENTIRE life I’ve had this problem.

With my Parents.

My Family.

Friends.

Peers.

Even….

ME!?

And I hate myself for this.

I really, really do.

I WANT to,

I just don’t know HOW.

I feel like my heart is so hardened,

And UNABLE to truly Trust.

Or Love….

Anything,

OR,

Anyone.

Except for myself.

SO self-ISH.

And so, the daily battle continues…..

In the meantime, since I’ve been home, the Hubby is trying to fatten me up.

Like a cow before the slaughter.

I’ve eaten MORE “Ham & Cheese” Paninis in the last few days, than I WANT to even remember.

Yes, TASTY, but also SO not on my eating radar at the moment.

Too many…..

“Whatevers”!

Just stuff I SHOULDN’T be eating.

The “Less is more” philosophy?

Treating me VERY kindly, thank you!

I’m glad it’s Monday.

The Hubby goes back to work.

MY “normal” eating schedule can now be honored.

NO frickin’ Paninis,

That’s for SURE.

“Who honestly eats 6 Meals a day!?”

NO.ONE.

I am struggling.

I am finding myself resorting to the safety of old ED “Behaviors” while @ Camp…..

Good nor bad,

I guess?

Skipping meals.

Pushing food around on my plate.

Cutting my food into teeny pieces.

Lying about eating.

Pretending TO eat,

But not.

Something new and weird, that I’ve been doing?

Spitting food into my napkin when no one is looking.

WEIRD, I KNOW!

Don’t judge me.

However,

I find that just REFUSING food is the easiest.

Why?

Well,

For 2 reasons:

1. I can not and will NOT, puke out @ Camp.

It’s NOT an option.

2. My stomach literally physically HURTS if I eat too much.

Fyi:

YOU’RE definition of “too” much food is a LOT different than MINE.

So.

Keep your comments to yourself, please.

Last night, I literally had a small bowl of cooked veggies with a few small meatballs.

I didn’t WANT to eat.

And my anxiety was getting really, really high.

I was hungry.

And I NEEDED to eat.

Like, REALLY needed to eat.

Or, I WOULD be sick.

Meh.

That’s the WORST feeling about it all,

To be honest.

Damned if I DO,

Damned if I DON’T.

When I DO eat, I feel sick.

When I DON’T eat, I feel sick.

Sooooo…..

YOU tell me.

Ok?

Because it’s frustrating.

Maddening,

And….

Exhilarating all at once.

That last bit is somewhat of a new experience for some reason.

I shouldn’t say new…..

Maybe more like intense.

My heart will race.

My cheeks will flush.

I’ll talk faster.

And I will FORGET even more.

Oh,

And you feel like you could just run.

And run.

And run.

And then take off?

I’d ALSO imagine it’s what it’s like to use speed?

Maybe?

Not sure about that one.

My guess is that my ADHD gets kicked into extreme overdrive.

Especially when my anxiety is jacked up.

AND,

When I don’t eat.

Triple threat, right there….

Meh.

OR,

I get extremely tired.

Depressed.

Withdrawn.

Oh, what to DO!?

Right now,

I’m honestly seeing just how much I can get away with.

I’m sorry.

NOT sorry…..

I’m also not stupid,

I know that people can see the wacky shit that I’ve been doing.

It’s a little difficult to hide.

Mainly because I’m practically living with these peeps!?!

And so,

It just happens.

I’m not doing it to BE sneaky,

But if I DON’T,

I get harassed about it.

“It” being eating.

So, for me…..

Lying about it is easier.

At least it FEELS like it?

Mmmmm…..

It loves me,

It loves me not.

MEH.

Damn.

It’s been a long week at Camp.

Hard,

Difficult,

Trying.

My biggest Challenge?

Eating.

We have 3 “set” Meal times.

I haven’t eaten 3 “meals” since I left Treatment.

That was almost 8 MONTHS ago.

Has it REALLY been that long?

Good-Grief.

That’s ALMOST a year!?!

Yikes.

My week STARTED out great…

Taking food and sitting with the Campers.

Ended a bit poorly….

Standing,

Wandering,

And being preoccupied.

Small bites here and there,

Coffee,

Nothing.

A few confrontations.

I hate THAT.

I WILL lie.

I’m sorry.

It’s not personal.

It is DEFINITELY my Eating Disorder talking.

I feel emotionally exhausted.

My Anxiety is at an all-time HIGH.

Stuck.

And rising.

I’ve got 1 more week…..

My coping mechanism until it passes?

I will get quiet.

Withdrawn.

Cry when I am alone.

Not eat.

Pathetic, I know.

I need a Nap.

And a nice loooong HOT shower!

That’ll cure anything, right?

Yes,

A Nap!

“For THIS, too, shall pass….”

My first morning at Camp.

1 Meal down…..

100 to go!?

I was hoping for fresh Fruit.

Nope.

Egg and Cheese Bisquit Sandwiches.

Uhhhhh, No.

HOWEVER,

After serving the Kids first,

I asked for a Bisquit.

Yassss.

Why?

NOT that just my Apple would have been sufficient,

But these Bisquits?

They looked AMAZING.

SO I had one.

WITH my Apple.

Right out of the Middle.

LOL.

It was like a soft and pillowy cloud.

No lie.

I even added Butter.

I DID scrape some off because I felt like I’d added TOO much,

BUT, it WAS on there.

And?

I added Honey!

It was quite Heavenly.

Score.

I’m on my way to Church Camp.

For the next 2 weeks…..

This is actually the first year that I have NOT packed any of my own food.

That terrifies me,

But I also feel Brave.

THIS will be my “test”…..

Of just how bad I want to be IN Recovery.

There will be a lot of young girls there.

Little eyes WILL be watching,

Whether they realize it or not.

I REFUSE to be the demise of their own Body shaming Crusade.

I will take it Day by Day.

Meal by Meal.

It’s all I can do.

Besides the obvious-

PRAY!

Time has flown by….

I’d be lying if I were to tell you that life has been wonderful.

It has been a vast blur.

Sleeping.

Working.

Eating.

NOT eating.

Binging.

Purging.

Laughing.

Crying….

Sobbing.

New Friends.

Old Friends.

Treatment Peeps.

Eating Disorder “Groups”.

Coffee….

A LOT of Coffee.

I.V., please!

Stomach aches.

Head aches.

BODY aches.

It’s been insanely HOT here.

I hate wearing shorts.

Jean’s are my Fave.

Tank-Tops.

Flip-flops.

Dr.’s Appointments.

Dentist, too.

Planning.

Serving.

Reading.

Writing.

And……

Avoiding Swim-Suit shopping.

With a MF’ing vengeance.

No lie.

It’s enough to make me jump off a Cliff.

IF I don’t kill myself first.

Temper Tantrums.

Crying.

Sweating.

Panicking.

As I root around for a paper bag.

Hyperventilate?

Vomit?

BOTH!?!

Most of all?

I DESPISE the reflection that I see in the Mirror.

You will argue.

But no matter what YOU see?

All I will ever be,

Is an ugly,

Fat,

Pathetic….

Blob.

I can scream-

Cry,

And hit my fists as hard as can be….

Against this Monster I see,

But She will never leave!?

No matter WHAT I do.

I will always remain the same.

Too Big.

Too Small.

Never….

Ever,

Enough.

I strive every day to earn other’s acceptance,

Why can’t I earn mine?

💔

Sometimes,

The struggle TO eat,

Is just as strong as it is,

To NOT eat.

I feel SO sick.

I NEED to Eat.

I WANT to Eat.

My stomach is in literal knots from NOT eating.

A few little Tid-Bit’s here and there.

Applesauce.

A Granola Bar.

Coffee up the Whazoo.

I had the same problem earlier in the day…

That time,

I barfed.

Green Bile.

Coffee.

Nothing else.

Felt better,

Buuut….

The surging waves of nausea is back.

I tried warding it off all day, with little bites of food…..

But it wasn’t enough,

Apparently.

Ug.

I am meeting my Husband for Dinner at our favorite Laotian Restaurant.

I LIKE eating “Out”,

And I WILL definitely eat!

I want this fading feeling to pass!

PLUS, we’ve discovered “Sticky” Rice….

SO good!

We each get an Egg-Roll.

And NOT our normal Pad Tai order this time!?

Instead, we ordered Veggie’s & Tofu with Peanut Sauce.

YUM.

While we waited for our Entree, and after I had inhaled my Egg-Roll,

My “quirky” Eating Habit’s were questioned.

And it made my Husband angry.

Like,

REAL angry.

I shushed him.

The neighboring Table’s didn’t need to hear.

Apparently,

My only eating 1x day, isn’t “enough” for his liking.

And?

An Applesauce Packet doesn’t count as a “Meal”.

Next time,

I won’t bother telling you that I WAS sick.

An Hour-long heated conversation ensued,

While I gingerly pushed my Food around on my Plate.

Which in return,

ONLY made things worse.

The knot in my stomach started to become larger.

And larger.

I began to get full.

He angrily glared at me,

Spitting out-

“Do you think this a joke?!”

“We are right back where we started!

*I love the “WE”.

Ha. My Darling,

You have NO idea the shit I went through.

And GO through.

“Do you want to go back to Rodger’s!?”

Pleeeease.

I’m NOT going back to that place.

He can NOT make me.

And I certainly DON’T think this is a joke.

Atleast,

NOT on YOU.

Or TO you.

Including MYSELF.

I’m definitely not laughing.

If I WERE,

I certainly wouldn’t FEEL the way I do.

Like a Lone glass Bottle,

Heading shakily out to Sea.

Perhaps,

I’d wash up on someone’s Beach….

And become the next Genie IN the Bottle.

Ha.

Hey, it would be somewhere FAR away.

Out of YOUR way.

Remember,

I don’t like to take up space….

I stab at the remaining Broccoli on my plate.

I really DONT want to eat it.

Especially NOW that I’m being confronted.

I feel his eyes on me.

I set down my fork.

Thank GOD the bill came!

Swiped the 2 Peppermint Patties off the tray,

And scooted out of my chair.

We left.

And so did the conversation.

Parting ways,

We bid each other somewhat fake pleasantries.

And I headed to my car.

Now,

THIS is the hard part.

I am now being left ALONE after a HUGE Meal.

Stressed out,

Anxious,

Triggered,

And REALLY full.

Even though I took my Med’s to help with that.

Obviously NOT working.

Whatever…..

I am treading on very dangerous territory.

Damned if I DO,

Damned if I DON’T.

Why?

Because.

Because, that’s just how it works for someone with an Eating Disorder.

We endure our own Hell.

As an endless Pit,

Of Perfectionism.