healing

so I now know what I need to do to recover. I know the next step. I know what will finally bring me freedom from my compulsive binging and purging and obsession with food.

and I am terrified.

I am so scared of trying to address what is wrong, of facing it. not because it will be painful but because digging into it will necessitate that I tell E my darkest secret. she knows about my bulimia. she knows, from my parents, about cutting. she knows these hidden, disordered things and yet they themselves were never, ever the real issue. the real issue she does not know about; in fact, no one except Kim and Robbie know about it, this horrible haunting reality that I cannot move past. I can see now that I have been splintered from it, and it is the source of pain that keeps sucking me back from healing. everything I do in relation to food comes back down to this. and I have thus far just continuously tried to push it away and when that doesn't work, swallow it down with cherry filled donuts or, when the reality still claws its way into my consciousness, chug enough coke zero to try and violently purge it out of my core. then and really only then can I become so consumed with my immediate pain that the Truth has to take a backseat--my mental security, if you will, finally comes to haul this nagging Reality out the back door. once that's done i can rest in the murky, watery bleakness of my "Eating Disorder World."

but that's not going to work anymore, not if i want to ever truly recover. i have to confront the abuse of my past--not get stuck in it, but rock back and forth between its details and my present life. i have to reexamine what i came to believe then, when i was a victim, and compare it against what i know now as a strong, capable adult. i must take a second look. and i must let myself grieve over what happened. i need to let myself feel angry, heartbroken, depressed, scared. and i need help to do this. i wish i didn't, but i do. the context of what went down in my relationship with God is overwhelmingly confusing for me. and yet it is what keeps me in bondage to bulimia; it is the reality i am terrified of facing and in so many ways have blatantly refused to face, for several reasons.

for one thing, it is nearly absolute taboo within the church to ever call a relationship with God abusive. i know that. God is perfect and holy--He cannot do evil. i agree. im not saying that God Himself was abusive--but i am saying that the ways in which i interacted with God and the beliefs/rituals/mindset i had when i thought i was a Christian were abusive in nature. as i was reading through When Food Is Love by Geneen Roth, everything she kept talking about in the context of previous abuse as children came back to this. ive often wondered why i have so many fucked up relations with food and yet haven't been able to find a direct correlation between any abuse from my parents/friends/family and the habits i watered. but everything, and i really do mean everything, came together when i gently, hesitantly tried labeling whatever relationship it was i had with God as abusive in nature. it makes sense. i don't think its coincidence that the time i recall as being the start of my eating disorder is the same time i "ended" my relationship with God. i left. i said no more. i accepted that i was not a Christian and tried to move on. and in some ways, many ways, i did. but no matter what i do, i still cannot move past the relentless assaults on my conscience over what happened. its there every time i go to church, every time i hear of death; it seeps into my thoughts whenever there's a bad thunderstorm or i board an airplane. the thought, the question of what will happen when i die. where do i stand with God? can i ever be saved? will i ever be redeemed? i long for it and recoil from it at the same time. i used to think i was stupid for feeling both ways. but no, not now when i consider what happened. my reaction makes perfect sense. who wouldn't recoil at the thought of completely surrendering themselves to what was previously an abusive relationship? seriously, i mean, really, it makes sense. of course i am terrified, of course i feel an overwhelming jolt of despair--the relationship i remember was hell. it was horrible. it demanded perfection and did not give grace. it stripped me of dignity and required frequent recitations of my utter lack of worth. it assailed me with doubt and never, EVER assured me whether my endless confessions and prayers for salvation would be answered. i could be told by others that they were, but then if there wasn't fruit in my life, if i wasn't growing or perfect or whatever, then nope, surely you're not saved. that kept me locked in a viscous, endless battle of crying and headaches and OCD-like tendencies. and I have consequently thus far refused to go back to it, to even consider what happened or to try and find resolution within it. I just want nothing to do with it.

but now I am here. and finally I can see that this is the thing--this old, exhausting, painful relationship--is what fabricated the heart of my eating disorder. and i will never be able to move beyond it if i do not confront what went on...i have to face it.

i don't want to tell E the truth about what happened or where i am at now because it will irrevocably and very deeply change the way we interact (there is no way in which it could not). although of everyone i know, E is by far the one person i would feel most comfortable telling. ive learned from my last confession regarding my bulimia not to expect an outburst, not to expect any sign that what i have to say is shocking or unsettling. but things will be different most likely with this revelation...she will have to adjust to the fact that i have been lying about the core of my identity to a lot of people for about 5 years now. i don't want to tell her this. but i know that she struggled with similar issues in terms of OCD-like compulsions regarding what the Holy Spirit was guiding her to do vs. what she incorrectly just felt like God was guiding her to do when she was younger. i don't know how she found freedom from that...but it was one of the key things that made me give up. she may be able to help me do differently now. and she's also grown up in the same family as me, went to the same church on Sundays and youth group on Wednesdays. she will know more so than others where i am coming from. still...even with all of that, i am scared. this is the most basic and fundamental lie i have kept up--it has allowed me to feel safe and protected and comfortable within my family. it has allowed for them to be a safe haven for me. but it has been a sham. i have not been honest and i guess in some ways that means the security was a façade as well. shamefully, i must also admit that telling E now would not be nearly as bad as having told her earlier because at least now i rarely see her anymore anyways. only our limited interactions would be awkward. and yet...and yet. vulnerability terrifies me.

but i have to do this. i have to tell her. i have to face what happened if i ever want full recovery.

and i do.