Truth is a strange thing.
We embrace honesty, and yet are fearful to share our deepest innermost thoughts, feelings, worries, aspirations, and countless other "secrets within" with almost everyone we consider "close" to us. Why do we hide our true selves from one another? Why is it that we say "...and the truth shall set you FREE!", but yet we remain imprisoned within ourselves because of fear. Is it because we fear the cruel and harsh judgment of others, or is it simply because we too have a fear of who we REALLY are?
The Lord has put this word on my heart and so I must seek further and speak further.
I intend to be forthright, brutally honest, and shed a light on eating disorders so that the truth can get out. Many voices who have battled an eating disorder did not have the opportunity, courage, or will to share their truth before it was too late; and so I feel that in a way I am helping to tell their story and help their truth be heard.
The following is a personal journal entry: My Truth...
(in all cases names have been changed to protect the privacy of others)
I need to be honest with myself. I haven't been journaling like I should, reading like I should, EATING like I should, and dedicating time to myself like I should. I don't know or understand why...
Why is it so difficult for me to invest in myself? Why do I lack the motication that was once a faithful compainion? I'm ready to begin this new chapter in my life, but at the same time, I am so hesitant to move forward. My entire being longs for freedom from all the hurt, pain, old memories, things I know but am not yet aware of; who am I without all that? What does that life look like? Why am I holding onto the things that hurt me so tightly?
I LOVE being thin. I like the attention it brings me, the high I get when I put on a pair of jeans and they fit just the way I like. I love that feeling of emptiness inside when I don't eat. Somehow that emptiness makes me feel whole, comfortable, relaxed. When hunger pains strike I love the power I have to say no- I say when, I say what, I say how much, if any...
When I give in I feel weak, defeated, guilty, disgusted, and enraged with myself. My skin crawls with a need to get rid of it, get it out!
I feel conflicted. Confused...
I know the realities of this disease and I don't want to die. I know that nothing but destruction lies down that path, but part of me wants to venture down into that dark, dreary, lonely unknown.
I look at pictures of thin girls, SKINNY GIRLS, girls who I know are SICK and I say to myself "I want to be like them." I WANT to be thin. I NEED to be thin.
I like it when my hip bones are visible from a side profile, when my shoulder bones stick out like mountain peaks. Clothes sliding down my body...It's almost graceful to me. When I start to gain weight I hate how my legs feel. I can feel the fat on them. My pants fit so tightly I feel as though they are suction cupped to my thighs. UGH! I feel disgusting! I hate how my ass feels, like a bouncing ball or two balloons rubbing up against one another. EWWW! I hate how my arms feel like flabby slabs of Jello attached to me like a pair of wings. They jiggle back and forth; and I can't stand it when the sleeves of my shirts cling to me. I want to hide. I want to hide my body... hide myself.
I want to exercise, but I am afraid. I know how much I love the rush of adrenaline! I love the sweat running down my forehead as if the calories were melting out of me. I want to get on my bike and pedal away. Pedal out all my frustration, all my confusion, all my anger, all my everything. I know I am considerably out of shape and so I will be discouraged when I first start. Disappointed with myself that I let it get that far. How lazy I have been. What happened to me?
"How could you let yourself go like this Casha?"
... I know though, that the initial discouragement will light a flame that will burn even brighter than before. I will want it more, and work harder than I ever have. I WILL get back to where I was,, and so I will push myself. Feel the pain... feel the burn... push forward.
...sigh...
Will there ever be a day when I embrace myself? Will I love this body that I now feel I am a captive to? Will the longing to be thin win? Will I ever be able to have children? Oh God... why can I not see that this does not make any sense? Why do I love something that is so detrimental to my health, my family, my life, my future, my very existence. I feel mad. Angry! Why can't I have both? Why can't I just do it when I want? I know I can stop... I did it before...
Listen to yourself Casha- you sound rediculous! So wishy-washy. Maybe that goes back to the fact that I don't know what I want...
I KNOW I want recovery. I want to feel whole. I want freedom.
But I also want thinness, to love my body, and to be comfortable in my own skin. I don't want to feel like I need to hide myself or cover up my body because I am so ashamed and disgusted with how I feel about myself.
Where do these feelings come from? How did all this begin? When did it all get out of control and become too much? How did I allow this disease to take over my life and why can't I let it go?
I am lonely...
I miss my friends, I miss my work, I miss my LIFE. Is this what my life is to come to be if I hold onto my disease?
Tomorrow is another day, and I will start over. Help me God...
"So we say with confidence, The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?" Hebrews 13:6
