This blog post is a couple journal entries I wrote while in the midst of one of my deepest struggles. (sorry for the run on sentences and no paragraphs. Sometimes my journals are like that) If you read my next blog post called "Overcoming The Impossible" I talk more about the journey.
"Sometimes to get better you have to trust somebody else more than you trust yourself, because your perceptions and habits are deeply flawed, based on a lie. Even when your mind is screaming how wrong it is... you have to eat the crackers, you have to stay away from the scale even when it's screaming out your name, begging and pleading and every fiber in your being wants to see what numbers are on the screen. To know whether you can eat or not. But you know that you can't do it because he told you to stay away from it. And you eat dinner even though you wanna throw up, because you can't argue with her. If you don't eat she'll take you to the doctor. And when you are so tired you don't wanna even argue... you want to prove to them that you can get better because you don't want them to give up on you. It's ending the day and he asks how you did and your mind is trying to separate what you think is good compared to what he thinks is good and making sure you don't use the bathroom directly after meals so he doesn't have to wonder if you are throwing up. It's when he asks questions and you don't know how to answer cause you don't want to see the disappointment on his face, although you haven't seen it there. When he asks if you've eaten and it's impossible to lie. And Mama asking if you are gonna eat dinner but you know it's a statement rather than a question. Being scared cause you feel awful when you haven't eaten all day but sick to your stomach when you do eat. Not knowing what to do or even what recovery looks like. Questioning whether you are even sick at all or if they just think you are. Him saying he can't just sit by and do nothing.That he won't sit and watch me die. It's not an option. It's the fact that they have no clue what to do but they told me that they would walk every step with me and are proving that to be true. Knowing that it would have been so much easier to walk away but they chose to stay. Because their love runs that deep. And I don't feel worth it but they say that I am and I have to believe it. And when he tells me I'm beautiful and just for a moment with his loving Daddy arms around me I actually believe him. They don't give up and I just don't get it. And sometimes it's just so hard I want to give up and forget it but I can't do that to them and the thoughts just scream in my mind and I just want a moment of silence but they continue to scream and I'm fighting the devil and fighting Satan and I'm trying to live for God but half the time it seems fake because I'm still so messed up. I'm scared of other people finding out. Scared of my biological family finding out and their judgmental words of accusation that cut to the core and I know somehow I should have been better but I didn't choose this and they wouldn't understand. It's not just as easy as simply eating. It's the things that lie deeper beneath that I'm scared to uncover but he says they aren't as scary when they are brought to the light and he's right and some things have gotten easier but it's still so freaking hard and what am I gonna do if they ever leave me? But I have to live like they aren't going to cause all they have ever done is prove to me they are gonna stay. And I might talk to that counselor but I don't know if I really want to and I don't know if I can actually open up to somebody else. Even if they are used to dealing with this kind of thing. It's so hard to trust people and to let them see the messed up, the dark, the mistakes. Some days I feel optimistic, other days I feel like I'm never gonna get better that I'm just too freaking messed up. And out of all the people in the world why me? Why me to deserve their love and affection? And I push people away and they don't understand why. And I can't tell them because then they would see me differently. And I can't handle much more rejection and my best friend still can't talk to me and maybe it's best because maybe I am just a bad influence on her and how can I help her unless I help myself? But focusing on myself is selfish and I should be focusing on others but then it kills me inside and drains my joy and I'm stuck in a pit I don't know how to get out of and nights are soo long. I know for sure that they love me, I have no doubt now because if they didn't really love me they wouldn't still be walking with me. They wouldn't find a way. They wouldn't get me help. And I want them to know that I am trying, I want them to know how desperately badly I want to get better but how freaking hard it is. And I work all the time and maybe it's just cause the work needs done or maybe it's because I can escape life, because I can work knowing it's burning the calories of the food I ate and I can't take a day off because if I do I can't eat and they are gonna know because they ask questions. Sometimes I think he can tell just by looking into my eyes and I hate that I've given them so much control but maybe in reality I never gave it to them and they just snuck in and stole it but maybe it's a good thing because if they didn't I wouldn't have a chance to get better cause nobody loves me like they do. Nobody cares enough to do something and I'm not sure I'd ever trust somebody else enough either and I don't want to bother them but without them I won't get better... and I don't know, I just don't know sometimes... and I hate letting them have control but I'd rather that they have the control instead of the food because I know they have my best interest in mind. And right now I don't have the control because my thoughts are all messed up. And I look at them and realize what a gift I have in them, what great love, I can't understand it and I know that God's love for me is even so much deeper.. and like on Thanksgiving night Daddy said that they are on my side, they are fighting for me. What a great thing to know they are fighting for and with me. And maybe, just maybe I can do this. Maybe because he believes I can, someday I will believe I can too. And maybe someday I can say that it once had control but doesn't anymore." ~Kriss
"Tonight kinda broke me. Mama talked to me. Reality kinda smacked me in the face. I have to get better. Even if not for me but I have to for them. I have to for each one of them. Daddy wants me to keep a meal plan. As much as that scares me I know I don't have any other choice. One step forward. I know from here on out I just have to start believing them and doing what they say. To keep my mind looking forward I'm gonna write down five things to motivate me to keep on track."
1.Have energy to play with Gavin again.
2.Have energy to go on walks with Caleb.
3. Be able to go hiking again.
4. Stop feeling like crud all the time.
5. Be healthy to go on mission trips.
~Kriss
"Today is Monday. He just asked me not to weigh myself til Monday... which is today. But I know that he wouldn't want me to now because it will just send me spiraling down again. And I want to please him way more than the stupid voice in my head so today I'm gonna say no... I'm not defined by the numbers on the scale and my Daddy loves me so I don't have to listen." ~Kriss
"Today is the third day of me being on the meal plan that Daddy put me on. Monday I did okayish. Yesterday I didn't do very good at all, today is the first day I've actually mostly followed the meal plan. It's soo much food... makes me feel sick and fat and disgusting. So yeah... On the bright side I've had more energy today than I have in a long time and I haven't felt like fainting at all so I guess that is good..." ~Kriss
I'm a successful twenty-one year old. Pastor's daughter, active in the church. I have a good job, perfect family, I'm the daughter everybody wants. My life runs smoothly, I stay out of trouble and I have my future planned out. I have no worries. I have it all together and all figured out.
Don't you want my life?
Okay well that's a long shot out there.. but that's what a lot of people see when they look at me. On the outside... I guess that's what many see. But the real truth? Well there is much more to that than I can tell in a 500 page book. But let's put a little shot of reality into that.
I'm a twenty-one year old who loves God. I'm a pastor's daughter, I was adopted and struggle with years of turmoil with my biological family. I am successful at work, but I often stress about all the details that come with being self-employed. I've made mistakes. I was lost and broken. Jesus saved me. I've had addictions, and been held down by chains. I have a great family but like all families (with 7 brothers) they drive me crazy. I do my best at being a daughter who honors God and parents. I have no idea what my future holds. All I know is that I will serve my God until He returns or calls me home. I am a broken, redeemed, blessed girl who still struggles, who still faces temptations of the flesh, whose life gets shaken by circumstances but has peace that God is still good and still in control no matter what.
Soo... having that said... I'd like to give you a little insight to one of the many deep struggles I have faced, and still face today. Ever since I was really little I struggled with self-worth. The earliest time I remember thinking I was fat or ugly, I was five years old, almost six. I was going to be the flower girl in a wedding. All the dresses were being handmade by a lady we knew. I cried and screamed when I was supposed to take my shirt off to get the dress fitted.. I didn't want her to see how fat and disgusting I was. At the time I didn't realize my thoughts were unusual. That was normal to me. Now.. it breaks my heart. I wasn't even six years old.
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| January 2000 |
The first time I remember somebody actually noticing that something was wrong wasn't until late in my teens, I had met the people who are now Mama and Daddy to me. We had taken the youth from church out for kickball at the park after bowling. We had lunch there and I didn't eat. Dad asked a couple times if I was going to eat and I told him I wasn't hungry. I was lying in the grass when he came and sat by me and asked me point blank. "Are you starving yourself?" A million thoughts flew through my mind. I told him "No." with the tone of voice that says "Are you crazy?"
I'm not sure when he actually had a clue of what was going on but I'm pretty sure he had an idea before I actually really knew. After that he'd often make comments like "You know it's okay to eat right?" He'd randomly bring up concepts about eating, calories and nutrition. Or express concern that I wasn't eating enough for the energy I was expending. Soon after is when a lot of really hard circumstances came up in my life. Stuff that nobody really had a clue how to help me with even if I had let them in to know. As some messed up way to try and be accepted and have control of my life is when I got to that really bad place. I was dropping weight fast enough that quite a few people started to notice, including my adoptive Mom and Dad. That's when they got really concerned.
I was quickly spiraling downward. I
remember many times in my teens skipping meals and restricting food intake.
I never had a positive self-image because of a lot of things that happened in my past. I think part of my struggle was
always trying to get my biological father to accept me. So I drove
myself to be "skinny enough" and "perfect enough" which was actually a goal I would never be able to attain in my own eyes. At some point it had become an addiction. I believe part of it had to do with
control. When my life around me spun into chaos I knew I had control of
one thing a least. Honestly I still don't know all of what caused it, I
may never know. All I know is it brought me to a scary place, a place
where I always felt completely drained, I'd spend entire days with most of the time sleeping on the couch, I'd go 36 hours without a meal. Most of the
time when I did eat I felt physically sick. More and more foods I put on
the "can't eat list". I found myself often eating dinner when I needed
to so people would be happy and then throwing it back up. Even then I hadn't really admitted that there was a problem.
I guess with eating disorders, anyway in my case, I completely lost common sense when it came to weight, eating, exercising etc. To me, what I was doing seemed completely sensible. I had no concept of what was healthy and what was actually hurting me, by the time that I realized what I was doing was harming myself, I was so far into the messed up realm of borderline anorexia that I didn't know how to stop, I didn't know what was right, and I wasn't even sure if I wanted to get better. It was hard enough just to get through the day, I couldn't think about the future. At my lowest weight I was about 15 lbs lower than what my body naturally gravitates to. I didn't really fully realize the severity of it until the night Mom really had a hard talk with me, it was the same night Dad came and sat down on the couch next to me with three different meal plans. He told me to pick one. That is when he told me that he couldn't sit by and do nothing. That it was either that or he was taking me to the hospital. He told me that he wouldn't let me kill myself even if I couldn't see that, that is what I was doing. I saw the worry on his face, the tears in his eyes and I knew that if not for me, I had to get better for them. Because I they loved me and they deserved for me to at least try. That was the beginning of recovery.
The full details of what "recovery" was like for me would have to be saved for another blog post. But one thing is for sure. Recovery is possible. Looking back now I realize I did the impossible. How did I do that? Certainly not in my own strength. The only glory and praise to be given is all for my Jesus. He was my strength, my rock, my everything. Without Him I would have never made it off the ground. He gave me everything that I needed. It was one of the hardest battles of my life, but I know He provides freedom. He provided me with such supportive and unconditionally loving parents and brother who helped me through the really rough stuff. The thing is... what is recovery? A lot of people believe that when you are "recovered" it doesn't affect you anymore. And it's not actually true.
I still fight everyday. I'm still tempted to skip meals, I find I start restricting foods and amounts, I want to burn more calories without increasing my food intake, I still feel disgusting some days and want to throw up the meal I just ate. I will probably fight those things for the rest of my life in some form or another. Especially when I'm really stressed and things are out of my hands and I want that little bit of control. But what I can say is it doesn't have control anymore and my God is bigger and more important. So everyday I choose to lay down my life, multiple times a day I choose righteousness over sin. With God's strength in me I conquer the evil of this world.
As I grow in Christ I am learning to accept myself, that I don't need everybody's approval, because my maker loves me and calls me beautiful. I know that society's view of beautiful is really messed up. I'm starting not to care. Sometimes I look in the mirror and I'm okay with the girl looking back at me. I'm gaining more confidence. Less insecure. And so I keep on keeping on. One day at a time, striving for the great things out there that God has for me and I will keep on growing and giving up myself for my Jesus until He calls me home or comes back for me.
So why am I posting this for the world to see? Because I believe that Satan's power lies in the silence. I refuse to let him win. I know there are many others who struggle secretly, who are dying because they are afraid of being rejected. Afraid of speaking out. I believe that this is one of the many struggles in life that if I am willing, God can use to help others. If you are struggling, please know that you are not alone in this fight. Stay strong <3 Keep on. <3
~KrissElise
