Scaling Walls
Psalm 18:29 "In your strength I can crush an army, with my God I can scale any wall." (NLT)
1 Peter 5:10 "In his kindness God called you to share in his eternal glory by means of Christ Jesus. So after a little while he will restore, support, and strengthen you, and he will place you on a firm foundation"
I have often described my eating disorder as a very large hole that I have dug for myself, and now I am left to scale the very deep sides to live in the light and fresh air instead of the cold stale air, and darkness of the hole. I sit on the ski lift escorting me from the bottom of the steep slope to the top and wish that I had a chairlift to carry me up the steep walls of the eating disorder. As I read the above scripture, I realize that, in a sense I do have a chairlift to carry me, his name is Jesus. All I have to do is sit in his lap and let me ride my way to the top, but for some reason I keep jumping off just before I reach the top. Other times I arrive at the top, but fear keeps me from getting off so I ride it back down to the bottom of the steep icy slope. Either way, I miss the spectacular view from the top, or the chance to stand on my own two feet and pick the marked paths that lead to exhilarating rides instead of the ones that lead to hidden holes.
I am beginning to think I fear being well, as much as being sick. All those feelings, good and bad that the eating disorder numbed me to, seem a bit daunting and scary. What does being well feel like? Does it feel good, happy, sad, painful, or all of these wrapped up in one oddly shaped package ? I am not sure I am ready for this? I keep saying that all I want is to be normal and free from Eating disorders, Neuralgia, and feeling like I need to measure up to some arbitrary physical, intellectual, and emotional bar I have set for myself. The irony is that I have not set this bar, but it is my mother's and society's bar that I try to reach. Yet, I still shoot for it. Today I find myself feeling as close to normal as I guess I can as set out to ski wit my husband and son.
My nerve is tweaky as it flares from eight hours of sitting in the car, I vow that I will rely on God's grace and strength so this doesn't ruin my day on the slopes. The sky is blue and the air carries the fragrance of the impending spring on its breath. I slip into my ski pants. They feel, to my relief, loose and comfy. Then before I can go, I NEED to try on my skinny jeans. They are fine, at least I think they are okay? I take them off quickly so that the eating disorder can't rest on me like the dark clouds that have just lifted of the lake. I decide I will go back to the jeans later.
Today as we were all having a great time skiing, I found myself once again hoping for Kurt or Mitch to cry out "I am hungry! Let's eat!" Before I had to admit I was starving. Yes, I was starving and aware of it. Neither seemed like they were ready to stop, and I had used up my morning fuel of granola and yogurt. So, instead of admitting hunger, I played the PEE card! I know that they will wander inside with me instead of waiting outside. Once inside they will smell the burgers on the grill, see the fresh baked cookies, and decide we may as well eat while we are there. This is exactly what happens. "Ahh! Well played," I think in total relief as I get to use the restroom and eat without confessing my hunger. Why is it okay to admit my bladder is full, but not that my belly is empty? Isn't that how God created our bodies to work? There is no out put without input! I initially feel very clever and smug using my guile to trick them into thinking eating was their idea. Then I become angry (or is it sad), that something holds me back from acknowledging the primal need for food. "Damn it!!" I say under my breath, "would you just leave me alone for the day?" I wish I could send the eating disorder off an unmarked trail where it would get lost in a hole....forever!
Okay, now the second challenge of the day (I am really tired of this), what do I eat? Seriously, if you are not a skier, you need to know that there is an abundance of food to choose from, and I am as overwhelmed as I am hungry. And, even though I don't dare to speak it, I am STARVING! As soon as I enter the cafeteria, my senses are assaulted with wonderful aromas of burgers, fries, fresh baked breads, cookie, brownies, pizza, wings and rings. The steam from the four different soups wafts towards me delighting my nose. The salad bar is calling me with brilliant colors of greens, golds, and reds. The fruit is ripe and luscious. I touch a pear that feels perfect. There are cases filled with yogurt next to shelves of homemade granola. So many choices; the good, the acceptable, the bad, and the down right ugly (decadent). These are all hard choices for anyone to make, but add a crappy body image day to an eating disorder that is just beginning to ebb, and I am screwed. What do I want? No, wait what do I need. Umm, what is okay? What isn't? I tell Kurt and Mitch to go ahead and pay. "I'll catch up." I say as light heartedly as I can. I circle the cafeteria for what feels like the hundredth time. I go back to my new "mantra" "What if what I want is just what I need?"
I want a sandwich, but they are huge, and not just to those of us that have food issues. They really are HUGE, but I want the southwestern Panini; turkey, chipoltle mayo, avocado, lettuce and tomato. I turn my back on the yogurt and fruit. Mitch decides he will share it with me. I am getting the mayo, so I say no to the cheese. I want both, but decide I don't need both. "No, wait," I say to the cook as I watch the other sandwiches' velvety cheese ooze out their sides "I will have the cheese."
I try to justify this decision in my mind by reminding myself that I have skied all morning. I am pissed that I have to justify it. I have a difficult time discerning between, normal, indulgent and gluttony. I pray that good will stop my brain from spinning and give me the firm foundation of normalcy for the moment. I steady my self and take the first bite of the sandwich. It is even better than I thought it would be. I eat my half of the sandwich, my diet coke, and my share of the communal cookie. I find as I connect with my food, I am free to connect with Kurt and Mitch. I am briefly able to savor both at the same time.
After skiing I was pretty useless. I showered, said goodbye to my son and took a nice long nap. I get up and go back to the jeans and decide they are more snug than I would like them to be. I do a body scan in the mirror and am anxious that it doesn't sooth me as much as my full length mirror at home. How can my body image change so quickly from thin in my ski clothes, to fat in my jeans? I remind myself that they are fresh out of the drier, and that regardless of my jeans I am Okay. Nothing about who I am in Christ has changed. I am so tired of thinking about this. "here God why don't you worry about it for now" I am tired of my inner critical voice telling me what I should look like, eat or not eat. Now all I hear is the eating disorder say " See, are you sure you NEEDED the sandwich?" "No, I am not sure I needed it, but I don't need you right now either! Just leave me alone."
