I'm so dysfunctional!

I feel the need to warn people that I will be gaining some weight. Even just saying "gaining some weight" kills me. But anyway, somehow, I feel like I need to just put it out there so that people are aware ahead of time. Of course I realize that this is ridiculous--the fact is that most people probably won't even notice the weight that I gain. But I am so insecure about how I will look that I feel a warning is necessary. No, it's not even really a warning I want to put out there. It's almost an apology.

"I'm really sorry. I just want you to know that I'm about to put on 10 pounds. I know that I won't be nearly as beautiful, but I hope that you can forgive me and still love me anyway
because you know that this is what I need to do to be emotionally and physically healthy."

That's what I feel I need to tell people. But I know that this is only coming out of my distorted thinking. These are lies that I recognize immediately as soon as I see or hear them. Yet I can't get away from the fact that this is how I feel deep inside. But I can't beat myself up over it--that is how I feel and somehow I need be okay with those feelings while trusting that God is working on my heart to change the lies to Truth.

Since making the decision to trust God for my contentment rather than trying to manufacture it myself through my appearance and addiction to food, I have had mixed results. There have been moments of success (which were filled with anxiety, fear, discomfort, and self-loathing for me) where I ate a reasonable meal and then sat with the heaviness of it in me. And there have been moments of defeat where I gave in to my addictions or to my fears. Since most of you have no idea what this is like for me, let me try and explain:

I am absolutely terrified of eating food and keeping it down. Not just a little scared or nervous. Not just slightly anxious. I am talking raw instinctual panic like when you know you are in physical danger and you have to do something immediate to protect yourself. Think of the one or two things you are most afraid of. If you have any true phobias like heights, spiders, or small spaces then you might start to get the picture. If not, then think of the panic you feel when you sense your child or spouse is in danger. That momentary feeling of panic, dread, and fear is exactly how I feel when I know I have to eat or have eaten and can not purge. But it is nowhere near momentary. It lasts and grows as the food sits in my stomach like a cursed enemy. This is the fear, panic and anxiety that I have to face over and over, every day of my life. So please, forgive me and bear with me when I sometimes get irritable.

I am realizing just how proactive I have to be in this. Not so much by a focus on food, but by a focus on God. Keeping myself centered in Him. Starting my day with His promises to me and by committing myself anew to honoring Him through every moment. For now it is baby steps; one meal at a time. That is all I can handle. Thinking forward to an entire day is overwhelming.

I must, I must, I must increase my trust . . .

At its most basic, my eating disorder is about me not trusting God and lacking faith in His goodness. Not believing that He can make me content when I am centered in Him. I don't truly trust Him so I take my life and contentment, fulfillment, and happiness, into my own hands. I somehow believe that I am the only one who can make me happy. I don't believe that I will be okay 10 pounds heavier. I don't believe that I will be beautiful when I eat normally and gain weight. Therefore, no one will love me or notice me. In addition, I believe that I have to gain the world's attention to be okay with myself, to be truly satisfied.

Plain and simple, I am just choosing not to trust God.

What would happen if I believed His goodness? If I truly believed He can satisfy every physical and emotional need I have? What would happen if I dared to trust Him?

I would find freedom. I would find healing. I would find everything I have been looking for in my lovely dysfunctions.

The thought scares me so deeply. I am so afraid, so very unsure, but I do dare to trust. Wendy has given me the hope and the vision that this can be! I must take the plunge, I must dive into the pool of God's refreshing goodness and grace and know for myself just how wet it truly is. Just how good He truly is. Just how true His words are.

So, what does this mean practically? Being accountable in my eating habits--allowing my sister to partner with me in this. Daily seeking God through prayer and meditation on His word.

"In quietness and in trust will be your strength . . ."

This means holding to the hope that there is a different life out there for me and that God can change me. I must "take captive every thought" unto God's obedience. This means embracing who God says I am and renouncing the lies of satan. It means choosing to believe God. (But it is so much easier believe the lies!) When I am afraid, anxious and hating myself, I must radically and ruthlessly cling to God's promises.

I am so afraid, even now, that this task is so much more than I can handle. And oh, it so is! But I am never, no, not ever alone. I live in the power of Jesus' resurrection through the Holy Spirit living in me. I don't trust myself, in fact, I fear myself. But that is good. I am learning to trust God.

Father, give me strength and courage in the face of what seems insurmountable. Help me wait for you and trust your presence and goodness in the here and the now rather than fearing the future. Show me how to quiet myself and experience real life as you have so mercifully and lovingly given it to me.

WOW!

God is so at work in my life. He is calling me, teaching me. It is such a wonderful feeling, like being romanced.

Wendy gave me a book to read--Henri Nouwen's Here and Now. Such amazing Truth was revealed in just the opening pages. Man, I think this summer is going to be called the Summer of Gaining Perspective. My eyes are being opened to how much I am focusing on everything that I shouldn't be.

Forgive me as I proceed to quote like crazy from what I've read so far.

He opens by saying, "We must learn to live each day, each hour, yes, each minute as a new beginning, as a unique opportunity to make everything new." This goes along beautifully with scripture where God says, "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation: The old has gone, the new has come!". Nouwen then writes, "The problem is that we allow our past, which becomes longer and longer each year, to say to us: "You know it all; you have seen it all, be realistic; the future will be just another repeat of the past. Try and survive it as best you can".

How long I have viewed my life as just something to be survived, to be endured. What a defeatest way of thinking! Nouwen calls these lies we listen to "foxes" and says, "When we listen to these foxes, they eventually prove themselves right: our new year, our new day, our new hour become flat, boring, dull, and without anything new".

The answer to this? Listen to God's voice, not the foxes. God says to us, "Let me show you where I live among my people. My name is 'God-with-you.' I will wipe away all the tears from your eyes; there will be no more death, and no more mourning or sadness. The world of the past has gone". He goes on to say, "We must choose to listen to that voice, and every choice will open us a little more to discover the new life hidden in the moment, waiting eagerly to be born".

Whose voice am I listening to? Not God's! I've been listening to my voice. I've been listening to the lies of the fox. And then I cry out to God that I am captive and I want freedom, and He says to me, 'listen to my voice and follow me'. He pleads with me to listen to Him, but I shut my ears and choose to believe the lies.

Why? Why do I do this? I am purposefully thwarting God and listening to the enemy. Good ol' Henri N. has an answer to this too. This knocked me off my chair:

It is hard to live in the present. The past and the future keep harassing us. The past with guilt, the future with worries . . . The real enemies of our life are the "oughts" and the "ifs". They pull us backward into the unalterable past and forward into the unpredictable future. But real life takes place inthe here and the now. God is a god of the presnt. God is always in the moment, be that moment hard or easy, joyful or painful. God is . . . the One who is, and who is for me in the present moment. That's why Jesus came to wipe away the burden of the pst and the worries for the future. He wants us to disciver God right where we are, here and now."

Holy freaking Cow! Could God have slammed me with more Truth about life and about me? I sat and meditated on this after I read it and was just overwhelmed. I have been so wrapped up in the pain, regret, guilt, and shame of my past, and the fear of the future, that I haven't allowed God to reach me in my present moments. But as Nouwen says, this, the here and the now, this is Real Life. This is where God can meet me. I have literally been living in the past--whining about it to God, and I've been literally living in the future--crying out over my fears, and God has been trying to tell me: Shhhhhhh! Quiet down and listen! You can't change the past and you can't live in fear of the future. But I am Immanuel. Right here, and Right Now I am with you.

Yes, and Amen.

Lessons from Joseph

Times have been rough. I bought a new bikini last weekend and wore it at a friend's birthday (pool) party. I looked great! But I know that how I looked was because of my unhealthy eating habits. I want so much to change, but I fear that if I do so, I won't be able to maintain that great bikini look.

Constant tension. What to do? Most days I feel so helpless, like this is just how I am and it's never going to change. I feel my only hope is holding onto God and waiting for him to change me. I've realized that I am so self-focused. Like I said yesterday, I've been making the world all about me. But as I grow and learn to make God my focus, I hope that I will gain a greater perspective on myself and my weight and then I will eventually be okay with the way I look which will free me to finally and completely change my eating habits.

I was reading about Joseph this morning. He is one of the Bible's characters that I have always felt very drawn to. As I read, I meditated on his journey. What was it like for him as he traveled in captivity from his homeland to Egypt where he was sold as a slave to Potiphar? Oh, how I wish we had his journal to see what his thoughts and internal conflicts were. Did he blame his brothers, his father, or maybe God? Did he harbor bitterness in his heart for a long time and struggle with it as he worked in Potiphar's household? All we know is that he was sold to Potiphar and that God blessed him so much there that Potiphar noticed and eventually set all of his household under the care and control of Joseph. So Joseph must have worked really hard and devoted himself to the service of his master. But how long did this take? Was it years before he relented and served dutifully? Did he ever try to escape?

I don't have answers to these questions. Whether it took years for him to come to this point, or if he gave in right away, what I do know is this: Joseph was faced with imprisonment and somewhere along the way, he chose to make the best of it. And God blessed him for it.

Bloom where you are planted.

This is a saying I have grown to love and am working at making a part of my life. Joseph and I have this one thing in common: We are both imprisoned. I want to learn the lesson of Joseph's life. Whether you like where you find yourself or not, Bloom where you are planted. Joseph didn't like his circumstance, he was betrayed by his brothers and sold into slavery. But he chose to work diligently and to honor God in the midst of his suffering. And God blessed him for it. And eventually FREED him from captivity. I must find a way to do the same. I am not sure what this looks like. How to honor God in the midst of my eating disorder. But I will continue to work at it until God brings me freedom. Although I don't know this for sure, I guess that Joseph didn't get it right the first time either.

Gaining New Perspective

Special.

"Individual, particular; distinguished by some unusual quality; being in some way superior; held in particular esteem; readily distinguishable from others of the same category; being other than the usual; designed for a particular purpose or occasion."

That's Webster's definition, well, the shortened version at least. This idea of being "special" keeps coming back to me. How I desire to be special, to be--as Webster's says-- "distinguished" from others. I want to know who I am and why I am inportant. I know God says I'm important and I know He loves me, yet I still feel sadly unsatisfied by that. I feel a deep need to set myself apart--to prove my uniquenss , my specialness, my worth.

I feel this is a big piece of my overall struggle. Why I starve and purge and cut. Wendy says I crave attention, that my cutting and all these crazy behaviors are seeking attention. I've hated that idea, fought against it in my head. Felt that it came out of self-hatred, out of the pain I'm dealing with. But I know that on some level it is true. I crave attention. I want so badly to know that I'm special. That I have an identity all my own.

"Hi, I'm Jessica, and I'm broken. Please love me."

That's what my wounds, scars, and thin body say. That's what my depressive mood, self-deprecating statments, and medications say. I hang them out there or reveal them at strategic times to snare someone.

"This is who I am. This is my identity."

It stirs the emmotions and then people feel connected to me, somehow they see my humanity. But I need to allow people to see my humanity and God's incredible love for me in spite of it, without needing to seek attention in unhealthy ways. And I need to find my identity and be content in it wihtout using unhealthy means.

Wendy called me last night while I was thinking on all of this. She is so full of wisdom and insight it is just unbelievable! God used her to open my eyes to two big things:

1. On Monday she gave me an assignment: No drama for one whole week. Just normal boring life. So, she was thinking about this and called me to say that it's not a matter of drama vs. boredom. It's about embracing contentment in my life no matter what is going on internally or externally.

2. Regarding my need to be special, she said this: "Spiritual maturity means getting to the point where I want everyone to be equally valuable." Huge! It's like God's not even interested in answering my whiny question about my "specialness". He's saying--Jessica, it's not all about you! I've been asking the wrong question and I've had the wrong perspective. But she also reminded me that it's okay to be where I am right now. It's okay to be in this place. This is the journey I'm on and I don't need to beat myself up over where I am or where I think I should be.

So, the question now isn't what makes me special from all the billions of people out there, the question is . . .

Father, how do I turn my life from being all about me, to being all about You?

Forgiveness of a Father

I was so angry at everyone this time last week. I had almost killed myslef--not that that was my goal--yet there I was in the hospital, in the intensive care unit, waiting to be 302'd (involuntarily committed) to Norristown State Hospital. Seems I was a danger to myself. It would take me two or three days to realize that I was.

But this time last week, it was the Dr.'s fault, my sister's fault, my dad's fault . . . All I had done was take a few pills and cut my arms. And according to me, that was not worthy of being committed to the neighborhood mental institution. I was seething with anger, particularly at my dad, and left him a bitterly mean message on our answering machine. It was my sincerest hope to hurt him as much as possible with my words. The most hurtful thing I could think of to say, even though I knew before it even came out that there was no way I could actually follow through on it, was that I would never forgive him for letting this happen to me.

As I lay crying myself to sleep after leaving the message, I knew my words were a sham. I wanted to be angry so I did my best to hold onto it, but my heart knew how much I loved my dad and how much he loved me. That night my parents and Wendy came to visit me and I waited eagerly for them--peeking out the tiny windows of the main door to see if they were in the waiting room yet. All of my anger had dissipated and I was just glad to see them, to not feel so alone. The moment my dad walked throught the door I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He held me tightly too and I knew he was crying. I told him how sorry I was for what I had said and he just said "I know" and told me how much he loved me.

Forgiveness. Acceptance. What honey-sweet words. All had been forgotten except for my dad's immeasurable love for me. This brings an incredible truth to my attention (thanks Wendy!). God, my Father, looks on me the same way. All is forgotten except for His immeasurable love for me. It is as far as the east is from the west.

"I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness.
I will build you up again, and you, Virgin Israel, will be rebuilt." Jeremiah 31: 3-4

Small Victories

So many defeats it seems like. I walk through so many of my days in a mechanical fashion. Skip breakfast. Decent lunch. Go home and totally loose control. My MD is really proud of me though. Last time I saw her, she said that I looked better (physically and emotionally) than she had ever seen me. Of course, as soon as she said it, the old voices in my head started their chants and I began to beat myself up.

"I'm not any better. I obviously have her fooled."

"What is she thinking? I'm still binging, purging, restricting, and cutting!"

"I'll never get out of this. I may get a little bit better, but I'll never be free."

"My family would be so disappointed in me if they knew that I wasn't better yet. What a waste of time and money Remuda was. I am such a horrible person and a horrible daughter."

"I'm not worth all of the trouble everyone has put into me. I can't ever let anyone know that I still struggle. Or they too will realize that all the money spent was a waste. And then they'll realize I really am worthless."

Oh yes, how I love to beat myself up. It's so much easier than keeping hope. If I listen to my fears and all the negative things I believe about myself, than at least I won't be disappointed. I'll know I'm a failure and a terrible person and I won't expect anything more. The trouble is, deep in the heart of me, I know these things aren't true. The Holy Spirit lovingly tells me that they aren't true. But in the face of my addictions, my compulsions, and my fears, it is so hard to believe the truth over the lies. It is so hard to even see the truth over the lies.

The truth is that I'm not a failure. My MD was right--I am getting better. It is slow and I often take steps backwards, but I am getting better. My brother reminded me a few weeks back--when I was in the midst of a crisis and afraid I was going to slip totally off the edge of the cliff--that I have to recognize the small victrories I experience every day. Or maybe just every month. Who knows, whenever they come, I have to recognize and celebrate them.

Summer

Stretching before me are days full of possibilities--a summer full of traveling, relaxing, lots of time with my sister and niece, reading, and picking up a new sport (kayaking). An entire summer to spend doing all the things I miss when I am busy working full time. But also, a summer full of empty days.

Eating disorders present themselves in so many different ways, and each woman's struggle is individual. For me, I am both an anorexic and a bulimic. In short, I am literally addicted to food like an alcoholic or drug addict, so I eat compulsively and fight desperately for control. Along with this, though, I have an intense fear of gaining weight and being out of control. So when my compulsive eating (binging) gets too out of control, I freak out and just stop eating because I think that's the only way I'll be able to stop the binging. It is very hard for someone who doesn't struggle with this to understand it, but I am literally terrified of food and addicted to it all the same.

And here is the most horrific part. An alcoholic can stay out of bars. A drug addict can stay away from the neighborhoods where they bought their drugs. A sex addict can keep pornography out of their home and put strict filters on their computers. But I am forced to be surrounded by food everywhere I go, in everything I do. Even my home is not safe--it is packed with it.

My friends and my family are dear to me, I want to and need to spend time with them. But their houses are filled with food too. We could go out somewhere--a movie. No, popcorn, nachos, candy. How about going out for dinner? Yeah, that's helpful. What about a bar? Nope, fries, chips, nachos, wings. Maybe that is why I am in love with the outdoors so much, it is the only place I can escape my curse.

So, while I face the prospects of a wonderful summer full of the most precious of all commodities--time--that is exactly what terrifies me. Empty time to sit in my house full of food, or my sister's house full of food. Or go to my friend's house full of food. Or my church where they have free food.

Oh, God help me.

Star Wars: Revenge of Bad Decisions

A few weeks back my friends and I went to see the new Star Wars movie (Revenge of the Sith) and afterwards we got into an unlikely conversation about the human condition. In thinking about Anikan and how he "evolved" into Darth Vadar, we wondered whether a person can ever reach a place where they have become so hurt and beaten down by the world and their own poor choices that they are too far gone and literally can't fight their way out.

My two friends argued back and forth about it, and I sat listening quietly. I know--unusual for me. I'm usually in the thick of any heated discussion, but this time, I was reflecting on my own life in the quiet of my heart.

Am I too far gone? Is there any hope for me? Is there a way out of this? Quite often I don't feel like there is--it seems hopeless. But I realize that that is the lie satan wants me to believe. If he can get me to believe that my situation is hopeless--that I'll never be free of this eating disorder--then I'll stop fighting and he will have won. But I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that there is hope. I know because I understand God's grace. I know because God tells me in His word that I "can never be plucked out of his hand". I know because I've seen other women find the freedom that I so desire. I know because God tells us that the power that raised Christ from the dead is the SAME power that is at work in me through the Holy Spirit.

And this is where I come back to the process. The slow process of healing and change. It happens so slowly that I become discouraged and don't even recognize it--but it's there.

Something else I reflected on as I sat in the car listening to my friends' debate: Choice. When a person gets into a situation like me or some other type of life-draining addiction, how much of it was their choice and how much was due to life beating them down over and over? Again, my friends were debating this back and forth. My best friend's father fought a lifelong battle against mental illness, drugs, and painkillers--he never found victory. He died in his addiction. So, she fought passionately for the "beaten down by life" side. I wasn't entirely persuaded by her arguments. I realized that each of us has choices to make. Like my friend's father, there was a point in my life where I slowly started making really bad choices. Back then, when I still had control, when I wasn't totally into my eating disorder, I needed to make the right choices. But I didn't. And that's how I got to be where I am.

Welcome to my life

I find it amazing how I get any joy out of life. I realize that sounds terribly depressing, but nonetheless, it is true. I find so much joy in living: my family, the beauty that exist all around me in nature, friends who would give their right arm for me, my relationship with God . . . Yet there is a shadow that hangs over me most of the time. I love how Over the Rhine puts it in "Latter Days"

"There is a me you would not recognize. I call it the shadow of myself."

I suppose in many ways that is how I experience my life. There is a part of me that I allow very few to see or know, and then there is the Jessica--bright and smiling--who the world sees.

My writing here is an attempt to change that. I don't know how to let others into my world--into my battle--but I want to try. So read, learn, listen, and then love. I need grace, I need love, and I need acceptance.

I also write out of hope that others who are fighting their own battles with an eating disorder, or who love someone who is, will read and be encouraged.

I've learned that I can't get to the top of the mountain as fast as I'd like to and as fast as those who love me would like me to. So, I invite you--whether you know me or not--come along on my journey, and see the beauty along the way.