Saturday, November 26, 2016

keep fighting...

How many times, I wonder, can a person fall down....and still get back up?  For me, it seems that recovery looks more like a series of falling and clawing my way back to a semi-standing position, only to fall flat on my face.  Again.  *sigh*  I suppose I should take comfort in the fact that I'm getting up each time?

I've spent this morning catching up with friend's blogs and a few ED youtubers that I follow.  It seems everyone is struggling right now and it's heartbreaking!  I cried legit tears over the pain felt by people I've never met in person, people who live across the country...and even across the world.  In the midst of your own guys inspire me!  So, you keep getting up....and I will too.

A few days ago I was praying for my sister and a powerful image came to my mind.  I wasn't planning on sharing it because there is SO much back story and the thought of explaining it all is just overwhelming.  Nevertheless....

About a week ago I had a terrifyingly evil dream.  Two days later, my sister texted me in the middle of the night...scared out of her mind because she had a similar dream.  I'm still not sure where I stand on spiritual warfare, but lately I've been praying in that direction, declaring freedom and asking protection for myself, my husband, and my sister.  It feels like a comfy old pair of shoes, to be honest.  Anyway, while praying for my sister and asking for clarity on both of our dreams, I saw (imagined) this:

 I was standing beside my sister, we were holding hands.  Our stance was strong and fierce.  We were both praying out loud and leaning into something invisible that was pushing against us.  It was loud, wind roaring...intense.  Both of us, in unison stomped one foot...and the ground shook underneath us, and the air in front of us that stomp sent shock waves out in front of us.  And then, it was quiet.

You see?  We're stronger when we fight together, and for each other.  I went out on this crazy shaky limb and actually shared this image with my sister.  I told her I felt like God was encouraging us to pray for each other, the same things that we would pray for ourselves.  I know that my sister has her own dark and broken places...addictions and hidden shame.  It looks different than mine, but the root is the same.  So, when I'm crying out to God to free me from this hell that I feel so caught up in...I'm stopping and asking God to show me how to pray this exact same thing for my sister.  I know it sounds crazy.  I swear, I'm not really a charismaniac loon!

With that said....I hope that the ferocious warrior that I see in this image will one day become a reality.

Saturday, November 12, 2016


Talking about food is awkward.  Am I alone in thinking this?  Eating disorder recovery kinda requires discussion about specific things that I'm eating, and that's, well...embarrassing.  I tend to be private about what I eat.  I'm slowly getting better with that.  It helps to have people in my life who are normal and practical about their own food.  I have a pretty good mix of friends that I've been drawing ideas from, both inside and outside of recovery.  They're all getting used to me occasionally drilling them about what they eat.  lol

I eat weird.  Really weird.  For breakfast today, I had a concoction of navy beans, corn, bbq sauce and cayenne pepper.  

I went to the store this morning, intending to stock up on a few staple items that I consider "safe recovery" foods, things that will help heal my body from the damage I've caused with my ED.  When I know the nutritional benefits of eating something, I'm not as likely to succumb to guilt and purge it.

I've trolled the internet looking for ED recovery meal plan ideas and....they all seem so unrealistic and commercialized, and.....perfect.  It's more triggering than helpful.  Lately, I've been trolling the internet looking for food plans and recipes from people who are recovering themselves, rather than ideas from the professionals.  I'm insanely interested in what other recovering ED sufferers eat.  I've toyed with the idea of posting what I eat every day but I don't want to trigger other people.  In the past, tracking my food has been an unhealthy obsession.  I'm starting to wonder though, if I can redeem that obsession and bust through some food shame, while promoting the sharing of ideas.

My safest food foundation has been what I experienced at Tiger Mt. Structure and routine, plus constant exposure to cooking and food preparation that ranged from quick and easy to needing to read recipes.  I also was able to watch how other people ate...people with and without food hangups.

Anyway.  I could ramble on about this forever.  I'm off to troll the internet for more ideas.  :)

radio silence

Sorry for the radio silence lately....I just haven't felt up to writing a whole lot.  I still don't, but for some reason I'm feeling the tug tonight, so I'm rolling with it.

I used to write more often when I was struggling, but now it seems to be the opposite.  I'm not sure why the flip in writing habits.  I don't want to disappoint anyone, or trigger anyone.  With that said....I'm not doing so great.  At the moment I'm okay, but the last month or so I have been anything and everything BUT okay.  I'm scaring the people I love.  That never used to bother me!

I started drinking again, which lead to a really horrific cutting episode.  I woke up one morning and my bathroom was a war-zone (spiritually and physically).  I've been hiding the drinking...stashing bottles under my bathroom sink.  Usually I purge under the guise of taking a shower or a bath, so lately I've been purging while the water runs, then soaking in the tub while I get drunk.  Drinking on a freshly purged stomach is a bad idea.  I need to read up on the science of that and find out why it makes me feel so horrible.

God is not letting me sit very easily in this relapse.  I've had a couple of conversations lately that have made me think hard.  A good friend from tiger mt told me that she's been thinking about the circumstances that lead me to tiger mt....and she's concerned that I don't have another one of those in me.  Meaning, the next time I do something like that, I may not survive it.  That was tough to hear.

So, what happened?!

Life?  Stress?  I don't know.  I'm just starting to face some difficult realities in therapy.  My sister is not doing well.  My family is needing me and I'm feeling unable to be what/who they need me to be.  Work is filled with drama.  And....holidays are coming up.  *cringe*

For awhile, I was crumbling beneath the weight of all this.  I'm overwhelmed, heartbroken, terrified...but I'm slowly seeing a glimmer of hope.  This hope doesn't look like I expected.  My problems are not solved, my situation is certainly not any better.  My home life still sucks.  The hope is coming from something that I'm not sure I can understand, much less explain.  I don't want to throw out churchy christianese answers.  The reality though, is that God is mixed up in this hope business.