I guess it's been a few days since I've posted so I'm feeling the need to make up for lost time, two in one day... Really, this is something I've been sitting on for a while. Not really ready to push the publish button...tonight I finally took the plunge. It's a very personal and close to home post, one which brings feelings of anxiety - I'm taking that as a sign that publishing it is the right thing to do...a little stretching of the spirit. Funny thing is - It's not that I really believe all that many people read this - and so it's not the fear of people seeing or knowing, just that it is out there...no longer in the privacy of my journal or my mind that scares me - it's a very vulnerable feeling, one that I typically avoid like the plauge. All that said, here goes nothin'.
For seven years I have faced an affliction that has at times consumed me and that has at times been my best friend. Nearly a third of my life spent fighting, hurting, hiding, wallowing, pretending and lying. For those of you who don't know - well - surprise, surprise...7 years ago I dove into an eating disorder - obviously, not purposfully and not understanding what I was doing or what the ramifications would be. None the less, I embarked on a journey which would threaten my life, my relationships and my sanity. I could spend hours telling you about how the Lord has brought me through that - and if you're interested I'd be happy to, but right now I want to post something that I journaled on 12/11/2003. I read it tonight for the first time since I wrote it and it is still the most accurate depiction of this disease that I could ever paint - it is more or less a representation of the journey I have taken (and am still taking) through this period of my life...you may get nothing out of it - but reading it tonight just touched me - it moved me and it stirred a gratitude in my heart for the way that the Lord has worked in me and in my life...
This thing that lives in me - I have no idea where it came from, why it chose me, or maybe....why I chose it. It lives in me like a parasite - feeding on my weakness, and on my simple mind. Every time I feed it - it grows larger, until it seems to be larger than life itself.
At times it feels like a faceless demon, sitting patiently on my shoulder - whispering obscenities in my ear. He creates a facade, an oasis, which is seemingly attractive and comforting. He lures me in with false promises of beauty, love, control and power. This demon, it is there always, filling me with desire, until it is almost unbearable. He is ever so patient, alluring me, befriending me, waiting until I am unknowingly trapped and no longer in control, until I have lost all power. Then, without warning, like out of a hellish nightmare, this world of beauty that I once treasured and adored slowly unravels and it is shown for what it truly is, and has always been. It is a desolate place, full of lonliness, lies and despair. It is a pit of nothingness - a place where you lose yourself, and where eventually, you forget what "you" really were.
This demon no longer talks of beautiful things, but ridicules me, telling me time and time again, how weak I am, what a failure I am. Laughing in my face, taunting me.
He digs in, consuming my every thought, my every action, my every word. The harder I struggle, the further he digs. This thing....it is drowning me....only allowing me enough air to sustain life. He tells me that I will *never* win - that I will *never* be free again. That I will end up alone, unloved, and powerless - and even then, he will never let me go. I feel trapped at times - like I'm in a box - kicking and screaming for someone to save me from this thing that has overtaken me. I grow tired, with every wound and failed attempt I am exhausted from the fighting. Eventually I allow myself to be taken fully. The lies become burried so deep within me that I succumb to this thing...I have lost myself. My words are not my own...my actions are not my own. Please don't leave me, please don't hate me - this isn't who I am.....somewhere inside, this isn't who I am.
And when the bottom is near, when the darkness is pressing on my chest like a weight. When I am physically a shadow of what I was - when I am mentally empty - when I have given up, I see....a glimmer of light. A faint whisper of hope brushes my cheek - for an instant. It's fleeting, evading me, yet I can still sense it. So close, almost close enough to touch. I feebly raise a hand, and I reach, and instantly the demon is upon me. Asking how I will ever live with out him. How could I ever do it on my own? I am nothing, no one, I have no thoughts of my own, no purpose to serve...this is who I am, it is how I was created, it is my destiny. But I reach anyway, clinging to the hope that there is something more, straining until I want to scream - silently begging for mercy.
I begin to pray feverishly - for the first time...and the demon stops, and stares, and waits, and wonders. Anger is beginning to swell w/in me, so fierce and so full of fury that it is on the verge of exploding. For all the lies, for all the hatred. For all those that I have broken, for all those that I have hurt. For the lost friends and the hurtful words. For my lost innocense. For the me I have lost along the way. I am fully broken, on my knees screaming and sobbing for a Saviour. The demon withers in fear, he tells me to stop, pleads with me to end this foolishness. He is in pain, and is shrieking. He and I, both fighting desperately to survive, and still.....I pray.
I can see rays of light, penetrating through the dark walls of my box. One at a time, they come, and I welcome them. With every bit of light that shines in, a whisper of strength is breathed into my body. As I slowly begin breaking the chains that have bound me for so long, I begin to call out the lies and to call on the One who is truth. I will fight with the very last fiber of my being, to find myself again.
And the fight continues. The battle to rebuild, to reconstruct, to make new again. Every day, making the effort, beating the demon back into its hole. Every day facing the light - and seeking His face....to guide me and walk with me through this day of trials. My hope, my light, my saviour - you have saved me yet again......
If you've made it this far...thanks for reading -- as I said in the beginning it has taken me days to finally hit the 'post' button on this entry. And finally I came to the conclusion that it is a story worth telling - it is a testimony to what the Lord started doing once I declared that I would seek His will - once I proclaimed that I desired to be healed. The question Jesus asks the lame "do you want to get well" is a question with much validity...for so long there was not a true desire in my heart to get well - there was still benefit and pleasure in my addictions...I desired not to be healed in Gods way, but in my own way. Lord take my affliction, but let me stay the same as I am now. The true question is - are you willing to do what it takes to receive your healing. Are you willing to endure the temporary pain for a lifetime of reward in Christ?
Life is much sweeter now - the demon is no longer there, my box has been broken, and my saviour did rescue me with grace and mercy and love. What a wonderful God we serve, that He would pursue me in such ways...that He would draw me out of my own personal hell - that He would call me to serve in His kingdom. I can proclaim a freedom today that at one time I could not understand - I can proclaim joy in place of my sorrow and finally I receive my crown of beauty instead of ashes...
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