Into college I entered.
Numb to the world, I simply went through the motions. Maybe if I could reach perfection, my family
could come back together and live in harmony.
Or, if I reached a deathly level of illness maybe my parents would be
forced to take care of me TOGETHER.
Then, their love could be rekindled and all is well. See how powerful and deadly the bondage of an
eating disorder becomes. It rationalizes
every action done to harm, twists every thought and makes it all sound okay.
I continued to deprive my body of proper nutrition while
exercising in excess. Exercise played a
key role in numbing out. I ran in hopes
to outrun the storm raging around me. It
never worked. I ended each workout in
physical pain and exhausted. But, the
physical pain kept my focus rather than the emotional pains and exhaustion
allowed sleep to keep my mind quiet.
Reality struck when arriving home one day to a real estate
sign staked by the driveway. This meant
the end. No matter how hard I tried, I
could not bring my family back together again.
Failure fed my eating disorder.
At this point, I could not stop it even if I tried. I had traveled too far down the road clinging
tightly to ED that I could not let go and continued life with ED.
Remember I explained our Savior was there? Well, I talked to Him through empty
prayers. In that, I mean no faith backed
the words spoken nightly. I prayed every
night for God to take me out of this world and into His arms in Heaven. I explained that I could not handle this
anymore. It was just too much. I asked for this nightmare to be over. I asked for my family to reunite. I asked for healing. But never believed because the moment I
tried, ED convinced me I did not deserve any pleasure or happiness. I remained in bondage to an eating disorder
and could not escape.
Two years pass by and I ran smack dab into the pink elephant
sitting comfortably in our living room.
I could not get up. I realized
this was bigger than me and bigger than I ever planned. I just wanted to cope with tough situations,
get some attention in hopes to receive help, make others happy and be ‘normal’. None of which was accomplished by this stupid
ED. I realized my eating disorder lied,
failed me and destroyed me.
Thankfully, I had a trusted and loving counselor by this
point holding her hand out to pick me up.
She sent us to Tennessee to meet a doctor specializing in eating
disorders. Until the day came for the visit,
I never spent one moment alone. I either
went to work with mom or dad came over to keep an eye on me. The attention I always wanted finally came,
right? I was too weak to even enjoy or
appreciate the attention. I slept mostly
and continued to hide behind a smile. I
thought I would go to the visit, pacify everyone and come home to continue “healed”.
Boy was I wrong. The
day came and we traveled the two hours to Vanderbilt. Mom and dad both came to be of support. The nurse obtained vital signs upon arriving
(which were not within normal limits). Then,
HE came in. . .the one who faced our pink elephant directly in the face and
explained the severity behind the matter.
The only piece of the conversation I remember was the ultimatum given; admittance
to the hospital or keep knocking at death’s door. Being of age, the decision ultimately rested
on my shoulders. The doctor left to give
time for processing. I ran to the bathroom,
looked in the mirror at the tear stained image I did not recognize. What happened to me? Why?
How can this situation ever get better?
When will someone see my pain?
This is where people pleasing actually came in handy. To please everyone, I agreed to being
admitted. I agreed to a feeding
tube. I agreed to a meal plan. I agreed to spend my days in my room with a
view looking out at the other side of the hospital. I agreed to please; yet, inwardly, I did not
agree. I felt they just wanted to put
weight on me and never really help me feel better. They were all out to get me, right? I did not
trust the ones there to help me and that saw my pain.
After a couple months, I was released to a facility in
Wisconsin where I continued people pleasing and following all the rules to get
released. My body begin feeling better
physically, but remained an emotional wreck.
Something was missing from this whole recovery thing. I spent a few months in the facility, met
some cool girls and went on my way. I
still kept ED hidden to be there when I needed it. It served me well, I could not let go that
easily. On the outside, based on numbers
and BMI, I appeared healed; such false advertisement!
Keep praying harder than the devil can work.
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