Forever Full

Today is the day after Thanksgiving 2016, a day which also has marked a series of “firsts”…

This year was the first holiday that my family has had the privilege of sharing with my little brother’s girlfriend (who, originally from England, does not normally celebrate the typical American holiday.)

This morning, I experienced my first encounter with serious debit card fraudulent activity, which thus called for a special visit to the bank to file a police report.

This warm Florida afternoon was the first time I have hit a baseball bat to a tennis ball in over 15 years, attempting to bring out the little 8-year-old girl still hiding inside.

And today was the first time in a long time, that I have awakened the morning after Thanksgiving full of peace; rather than hoarding the feelings of anxiousness, guilt, or regret.

Allow me to explain…

 

You see, for someone like me with a history of disordered eating, a day centered around stuffing food into overflowing tummies and onto crowded plates is something just short of a nightmare. All sorts of anxiety kindles in growing fear of anticipation for what the “food holiday” will entail: fear of getting sucked into the gluttony habits, fear of unintentional triggering comments from company, fear of being pressured into eating the “decadent indulgences,” fear of being judged by the amount of food on my plate, fear of binging on odd foods, fear of gaining weight…but mostly, fear of falling under an uncontrollable imbalance of thoughts and behaviors which I normally can keep on a tight chain.

I have experienced some wonderful Thanksgivings with my precious family, but many of those priceless quality moments have then been “ruined” in my eyes by my “mess-ups” of binging or guilty food behavior. In these circumstances, I wasn’t able to compartmentalize my relationship with food from my relationship with my loves ones. For years this first relationship overpowered my ability to interact and invest in others I cared about. It always seemed to dominate my thoughts and proceeded to rob me of the present.

I remember last year’s Thanksgiving being a true turning point for me in my recovery. I made it my goal last year to really focus on relaxing in the present moment, and on the relationships with my family surrounding me. I realized that even though the day is traditionally focused on what is on the dinner table, I could choose to focus instead on the smiling faces around the table and caring hands slaving away in the kitchen. I still ate more than I would on a typical day, but didn’t beat myself up about it. I laughed, I reflected, and I reminisced in all of the cheerful childhood memories shared with these people who were huge influences in my life. I sat and remembered what it was like before…life before my “disorder” took over my being. Before I knew how to pinpoint and direct my feelings, I found comfort in these loving connections of friends and family whenever little anxieties started to emerge. I was an anxious child by nature, but when I was in the vicinity of those with whom I felt comfortable, those insecurities seemed to disappear.

When I felt safe enough to let my guard down, I was loud and even obnoxious at times, but most of all, I was present. Last night, as I practically slid off the sofa in my family’s living room from belly-aching laughter which filled the cozy nostalgic air, I was so very thankful…I was happy…but most of all, I was present.

I told myself before Thanksgiving last year that this day was going to get better. Though each year is different in its own special way, last year my mindset, (in my eyes,) was in fact better than the previous years of mental battles. This year, I had no doubts going into the usual overwhelming atmosphere. Maybe it was the new accountability I have acquired as an eating disorder mentor and a health coach; maybe it was my own encouragement in a recent presentation about redefining nutrition; maybe I truly am far enough in recovery to be able to hold my strength; or maybe my body is finally able to calm down after physically starving and feeling unable to catch up–whatever the cause of this new feeling of contentment, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

I feel physically satisfied, mentally sharp, and emotionally stable–three areas which are very vulnerable to falling out of balance. I had worked up an appetite from my annual Turkey Trot early that morning, but I was not ravenously contemplating every chance to divulge in a meal. I wasn’t restricting my allotted feeding time or quantity thereof, but instead filled my plate with what I wanted and how much I wanted, and didn’t think twice about it. I might have only chosen the dishes which I considered to contain familiar ingredients, but just like everyone else, I chose my meal based on my personal likes and preferences. I left the table satiated after clearing my delicious colorful plate, and continued to embellish the opportunity to socialize. I didn’t fret about all the workouts I would have to do the next day, or the “special occasion” foods I wished to binge on later, hidden from everyone’s judgment. For once I felt like a normal human being, simply enjoying the holiday.

 

I think what many people fail to realize is just how difficult social gatherings around food can be for someone struggling (or who has previously struggled) with any sort of disordered eating. If you think about it, it is essentially a built-up event which requires the affected person to publicly walk into a room enveloped by a cloud of their biggest fears. Curious eyes can be intimidating, foreign foods can be terrifying, conversations can be awkward, misunderstanding can be degrading, comments can be embarrassing, and worries can be piercing. Until we have one positive experience to serve as our new home base, each invitation to converse over a meal in an unfamiliar environment is more of a challenging dilemma rather than an exciting opportunity.

But I do believe that in situations like these, the only way to conquer these frightful feelings is to face them. As I mentioned, all it takes is one positive dinner with friends, or one successful relational Thanksgiving, to serve as a tremendous confidence-booster. It provides a new reference point, and the positive feelings following such an accomplishment are so much stronger than the old “safety set” of eating disorder retreating habits. The initial decision to step into the territory of interacting with a new perspective may not be easy, and the sequential steps may not be perfect. But just as I have mentioned before, these series of successful steps will continue to grow, and will provide the staircase towards a wonderful life of freedom.

It’s taken a while, but now I eagerly welcome the invitation to converse over a meal. I look forward to the quality time and the primary nourishment from cultivating genuine relationships, while sharing wholesome physical nourishment. So the next time we meet up for lunch, consider it my privilege to be able to partake in such meaningful moments together. Letting others in to the depths my past is not a task that I take lightly, and your trusting presence is something I highly value.

As I reflect on all of my many blessings this holiday season, I am thankful for the present. But even so, I am thankful for my past—my sufferings, breakthroughs, and this new position of strength. I am thankful for my company and my connections along this road of self-discovery—especially with my loved ones and acquaintances, yet also with myself. I finally feel welcomed inside my own skin again…I feel loved, appreciated, and valued in my own teary eyes.

I am thankful for the Love which taught me what it means to love, and the love which has given me a reason to be thankful. God has continued to show me this love (His love,) regardless of whether or not I chose to receive it or reciprocate it. This love is the love that has kept me going, and is the love which now shines to keep me glowing. I now remember what it feels like to actively cherish, while humbly stepping back in awe of thanksgiving. Grateful for the patience and opportunity for a second chance, the choosing does seem to get easier year after year…

I now choose family, forgiveness and freedom.

I choose patience, perseverance, and peace.

I now choose laughter, liberty and life.

I choose to be forever filled with thanks.

 

“Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” Thess 5:16-17

Core Strength 

The past few days have been truly humbling, once again setting me in my place in this world of my creator. I was a little too ambitious in the gym on Friday, and ended up straining a lower abdominal muscle pretty severely. It scared me, and although the pain didn’t really begin until the next morning, all I could think was “great job, Amanda. You screwed yourself up again.” Sometimes we really do have to learn the hard way, which I have learned one too many times. But in this minor setback I was forced again to surrender control over something that I often take for granted–once again, something in the realm of fitness. Ironically, it was my core that was weak. My inner structure and support lacked strength and sustainable power. It wasn’t until I tried to perform everyday activities and common motions that I realized just how much I rely on my core strength for just about everything. This was enlightening to me, as I forced myself to sit up straight and had to overcompensate for my lack of stability, frustrated with my limitations and helpless control over my body. I actually even sat there with my small protruding swollen belly thinking “is this what it is like to be pregnant??” 
Yet in this frustration and temporary mood downer, I had to accept this new position of inconvenient vulnerability. I do believe that with our own free will we are prone to make mistakes. But God can still use our mistakes for good, and I couldn’t help but wonder if God was allowing me to get a taste of a rather functionally limited world. It really did alter my perspective again, as it did with my former marathon injury. It amazes me sometimes how quick we are to try and take matters into our own hands, to take risks which seem fine and dandy during the moment, only to remind us later of our own stupidity. Fallen, once again, due to our own pride, only to cry out in tears for forgiveness and healing, but all the while in strict reliance on our Savior.  

Even in these moments of misunderstanding, regret and hopelessness, God is still sovereign. I am glad to announce that my tummy is slowly returning to normal, but even if it had turned out to be permanent damage, I would have to be ok with that. God would have still found a way for a misfortunate circumstance to bring him glory, and that is essentially our sole purpose on this earth. It might not have been the exact state I had envisioned myself to glorify him in, but it’s not my plan that reigns–God has the ultimate say, and deserves to have the last laugh. I am honored to have his unshakable power inside of me, forever serving as my internal core strength. Even if I were never able to do another sit-up ever again, with God as my inner source of strength, my spirit would be unstoppable . I have to center my heart and mind on His will, and his alone. Remembering, of course, that every strength and ability is graciously given by him as a gift and not an entitlement. 

Little reminders like these aren’t always fun, but are definitely necessary. I have come a long way in my ability to let go of things that I’m not supposed to be gripping onto anymore, which has been a continuous lesson in my sanctification journey. Lately, I have really been making an effort to pause and listen, and to refocus on the here and now rather than always set my mind 2 steps ahead. Not to say preparation is a bad thing, but recently I have realized my tendency to jump forward into future tasks and plans rather than take the time to savor, appreciate and invest in the moment. I now am well aware of my my over-thinking and analyzing habits, and impulse to easily feel poured on by pressure. Knowing this, I daily pray for peace. When my mind and spirit is relaxed and content, fully and truly extending trust to God, my inner being is stable and secure. It has taken me a long time to let go of the tight grip I have always held on myself, and on my own high expectations. Through much struggle and defeat to try and race against time, through years of beating my body to the ground, holding myself to unbeatable standards and strict discipline, my exhausted soul is finally raising a white flag. Although I still have strong ambitions to be the best I can be, to fight strong, to hold my faith and stand bold in self-discipline, loyalty, honest effort and integrity, it is all now for a greater purpose–all for the Lord and his kingdom. I try so hard…so very hard…to figure everything out. To be what I believe to be acceptable, respected, and admired. When really, all that matters is that I work for Christ, out of his love. I am already acceptable in his book, I am already precious in his eyes. His grace covers everything…even all of my past and failed attempts, even my over-ambitious and naïve mistakes. He is my inner strength forever, although my flesh and my heart may fail.

 Funny how with any condition out of the “norm”, our bodies know deep down, how to survive. Instinctively when faced with any grueling circumstance, or inflicted with an injury, all our other parts kick in to pick up the slack. Priorities shift around, perspectives change, and other pieces contribute on a different scale. It may be difficult to learn, to accept, and grasp at first. We may stumble, or experience reoccurring pain here and there, but eventually our bodies adapt. We find an inner drive that keeps us going. Only a creator so genius like our God could have come up with a system so remarkable. He is my internal and external strength, forever worthy of praise.