The first one I found was a couple of months ago that read: "Since becoming a psych major, all of my friends are secretly my experiments." Oh my goodness, this is so true. I apologize if this is how you are finding out about my experiment on you. Trust me, it will help someone else in the future.
The second one I found is very coincidental, at least in my mind. Just last Sunday, I shared my secret with Matt, though I didn't know whether the timing was right when I told him. In retrospect, I KNOW the timing was right. He needed to know.
Here's the secret I found:
The summer before my junior year in high school, I developed an eating disorder. Since then, my life and my relationship with food has not been the same. One thing I can say, without a doubt, is my relationship with Christ is stronger because of it. Well, it became stronger once I started to recover from it, at least.
I was in an unhappy place when the disorder began. In fact, it was kind of interesting. I was sick of being "chased" by a couple of guys that weren't good for me and I was determined to find "the one" at 16. I decided it was because I was ginormous why I didn't have a steady boyfriend, so I stopped eating. Well, sort of.
It started out with restricting calories, then it became more severe. I enjoyed going 10, 12 hours even without eating, because I liked the feeling of being hungry. It made me think, with every hunger pang, that fat was evaporating off my body. It gave me a feeling of control.
Then, when trying on clothes that fit perfectly just a month before, I felt even better. Jeans would fall off my body and shirts would swallow me. More importantly, people commented on my weight loss. I LOVED it.
However, on my 17th birthday, after suffering for over 6 months, I realized I needed help. My 17th birthday also fell on Thanksgiving that year. After eating probably 1000 calories that day, I felt terrible about myself. I just knew the slice of pecan pie would cause me to gain a pound and EVERYONE would think I was fat. EVERYONE.
After the meal, I went to the restroom to be alone and prayed that God would make sure the calories just disappeared. I didn't care what happened to me as long I didn't gain the weight. I promised Him I would never eat that much again, ever. I was so alone, yet so comfortable, knowing I had God. After my prayer, I realized something wasn't right with me. Why on Earth was I praying for something so selfish, so minute in the scheme of life?
I decided I needed help from that moment on, but didn't really know what to do. I slowly began to eat more, with the support of my best friend at the time, to slowly gain back weight. It took me until the end of the school year (about 5 months) to gain 7 or 8 pounds. I know that sounds crazy that I couldn't gain weight, but it's hard when your one enemy in life (food) is something you must face everyday.
Since then, I have gained a new appreciation for God's everlasting love. I realize I wasn't the most severe case of anorexia that ever existed, but I was a case. I know there is a reason God placed that burden in my life and that was to get through, grow closer to Him and help others who are going through the same thing.
4 years later, my relationship with food is still messed up and it will be until the day I die. I still can't eat actual meals because I have programmed my mind that an actual meal consists of too many calories. On the opposite end of the spectrum, I have also used food to control my emotions. For instance, last year, I got my first B in college. What did I do? I ate anything and everything in my path. Dry cereal, cookies, pints of ice cream in one sitting. Yes, I said pints, as in, more than one pint at a time. After vowing I would clean up my act, what happened second semester? The same thing.
However, I was then, and I still am now, afraid to gain weight. I don't like it and I see it as an "end of the world" type event. So why did I let myself go through two semesters of stuffing my face? Not only was it to control my stress, but it was also because I was sick of being chased by guys who didn't care about me, they cared about my looks. Just because I was thin, regardless of my face, my intellect, or my personality, guys would go after me. I disliked it greatly. I am not the prettiest, smartest, or even close to having the best personality, but I was nice and I was thin, and that's what guys wanted.
But as the weight came on, guys started to back off. Then I could focus on school and get those high marks. When the high marks didn't come, I ate again, hoping my problems would be solved. It quickly became a vicious cycle.
Finally, as this summer began, my eating has normalized. I have maintained my weight, which is something can honestly say I haven't done in over 4 years.
All of this probably sounds very messed up and I know it is. I can't disagree. I mean, I struggle with both extremes daily. I still love the feeling of being hungry, but I also eat chocolate when I get stressed. I will never have a good relationship with food again. However, one thing that I will always have from my experiences is God. He has always been there and will always be there for me, no matter how evil I see food in my eyes.
One day, I will show young men and women that they too can grow closer to God because of their mental illnesses. They were given those illnesses because God knew they could handle it. It'll be my job to prove that to them.
No comments:
Post a Comment