Tied to a balloon

It's 2 am and I am wide awake. Pictures on my walls are suddenly quite interesting as I get lost in my thoughts, my busy mind. I sit and contemplate life as a whole...wondering why I long for a definition that has no backing, no authority. "Normal" I speak out loud. A word with a million definitions, none of which can truly define each individuals perception. The meaning of the word changes without warning, condemning me for my lack of ability to follow the rules with ease...flawless precision. I should be able to know the way normal will be at each step in my journey...my lack of adaption only further proving my distance, showing me how out of reach it remains. I hang my head low, ashamed at my inability to be perfect...to be wanted...to be seen. I don't need anyone else to point it out or to punish me...God knows I do a better job of that then any other person ever could.

Then I start to wonder, after years and years of failure, if the bridge I have searched for all my life doesn't exist. I wonder if this illusive place, this beautiful destination, has ever been achieved...and if it has, is it as wonderful as the advertisement claims to be? I begin to wonder if I have been reaching for something that is beyond my ability to grasp. I wonder if my lack of ability to become who I NEED to be isn't due to a lack of effort or talent or love or desire.... I simply wonder if my inability to find normal is that much like the wizard in the land of oz...it doesn't really exist. Could I be expending so much energy searching for an imaginary destination that I am missing out on reality, true life...messy, unique, out of order and upside down at times...but a tangible place where my story can be made beautiful.

A pink balloon...tied to my wrist...its beauty captivating. It remains in the air above me with every turn and twist in the road. At times the wind will push it away but the string is tied so tightly that I can always pull it back in, allowing myself to fixate once more on its magical presence. The problem is that its helium will only last for a short time. It's life so to speak short lived. I could spend my life with a balloon tied to my wrist, always changing balloons before its magic is gone...always trying to conform myself to a life with it tied to my arm, following me wherever i go...following me when its not convenient. Grocery shopping,taking a shower, going to a movie theater...all strangely awkward. But the balloon on my wrist is beautiful and I'm sure it must be worth all its inconveniences...after all, its beautiful.

There comes a day when I face the choice of leaving the balloon behind and embracing reality as it is...without the beauty and magic the balloon brought...or I remain on the other end of the leash. As I slowly untie the string on my arm tears well up in my eyes, there is grief in my loss of what I thought would make me happy. Its hard to let go of something that has been attached to me for so long.I hold my arm out stretched, as high as my fingers can reach...the balloon barely within my grasp...and then in a moment it is gone. The beauty flying high into the clouds...soaring away, dancing in the wind. As tears roll down my face I turn to walk away and am struck by the ease of my movement. I am no longer attached, weighed down. I find that in my letting go...I am free.

entertaining elephants

I guess I haven't written lately because I don't feel like there is much left to say. I know what I have to do and feel as if words have become an excuse...a justification for things left undone...goals that have not been met. I have always struggled with the concept of just changing what you believe about something. I used to struggle with it all the time within my relationship with God. People would tell me that I understood God in my mind but that it was clear I hadn't been able to move that head knowledge to my heart. Its such a funny concept. How do you logic your way into something that in most ways is an emotional shift...a knowing within the core of who you are. The answer of course is that you can't. As a nanny I have found many concepts over the years that children can grasp much easier than an adult. We know too much for our own good. We have been hardened and calloused by the sin in this world and the free will of man. We can't go back to a time when we knew less so that we can more readily accept the understanding of the heart.
I have found myself struggling with something much the same and yet quite different. Imagine for a minute that you closed your eyes and suddenly you could see yourself ridding an elephant. Its a silly example but stick with me. So you see this so clearly that you can't really tell if you are actually ridding this elephant or if you are standing still, closing your eyes. You can feel the up and down movement of this huge animal walking beneath you. You can feel the texture of its skin and see its truck swatting off flies. The air around you is hot. You hear kids laughing and people talking. Sweat builds on your forehead and you reach to wipe it away. Its silly you think to yourself, I have never ridden an elephant. But you recognize the clothing you are wearing. Something seems very familiar about the whole thing and yet you watch in a slowed first person vantage point, waiting to see what happens next. Then abruptly you open your eyes. There are no elephants. Its the middle of winter and you wipe your forehead to find there is actually sweat that has collected. You blink a few times to check the reality of where you are standing and you contemplate the elephant ride. You have to ask yourself if you created those moments within your mind, or if they are a reality. Why would there be such detail if it was all in my head? But then again how do you believe something that never was, and suddenly call it as if it is.
Now what if it wasn't just an elephant ride. What if it was something far more important? The validity of your memory of the elephant really has very little impact on your life. Who cares if you made it up. Who cares if its all in your head. It's just a ride on an elephant. But what if the memory brought with it information that not only deeply impacts your life...but also places huge accusations on someone else. Its no longer just affecting my life...its now leaking into the lives of those around me. Years have passed. People change. So what do you do about something that demands to be faced and yet offers no proof...its my word against theirs...and lets be serious...who would believe me?

So I get frustrated. I tell myself to choose already. Just decide if its real or not and stick with it. I should be able to do this by now. I should be able to keep moving forward. And instead I keep waiting for the journey to hit flat even ground. I am tired of the hills and the mountains and the valleys...I just want some time to run in the beauty of whats around me...the new found life that promised joy, hope, and freedom. I don't want to face elephants. I don't know how to make myself believe something that I have no concrete memory or evidence to prove. I don't know how to change the understanding of my heart. There is no amount of logic that can talk me into true belief. True belief comes from an experiential revelation... a shifting with in the heart. I have been lied to far too many times to just believe something because its presented to me as fact. It's exhausting to think about. Its exhausting to hold onto. When something comes into the light there is a new found responsibility to act based on the reality of what is before you. You can't go back to not knowing. You can't pretend it away. When it was buried in the depths of your heart you couldn't have responsibility for responding accordingly. But once it slips into the light its there for all to see. You can't logically take what is and call it as if its not. But how do you know that what you have seen is real? How do you have a flashback and yet have no concrete memory. But the problem remains... you can't hide an elephant in your living room and pretend its not there. You have seen it. You see it everyday. I guess you could pretend you don't see it...but eventually you would ave a dead elephant lying on your floor...not being strong enough to move it on your own, it lays there, untouched. I guess my only choice really is to make friends with the elephant. Feed him. Figure out why He is there...and how to walk him back to return him to where he belongs. He had to get in there somehow...but the sooner you stop pretending he isn't there, the sooner you can get your living room back in order. It may be hard to get rid of that smell...who knows it may smell a little strange forever...but anything is better than having a dead elephant in your living room. So I guess I keep walking. Its too late to turn around. I like to believe I have less in front of me to face than what I have already been through.

I don't really have too many encouraging words. I'm worn out...ready for a break...ready for the elephants to leave me alone...ready for them to return to where they belong.

out of answers

I keep waiting for words to fall out of my fingers. I keep hoping to magically feel the release of expressed emotions...and nothing will come. I feel like all the words have been used and all I am left with is the words that no one really uses...the miss matched savvy words that no one really understands...they complicate more than they bring clarity.




I was at work today, nannying for miss Ansley. As usual she didn't sleep much the night before and I was given the wonderful job of appeasing and playing with a child who wants everything and nothing all at the same time. The attempt at a nap failed miserably and by 5 pm this evening Ansley was laying on the floor in target sprawled out screaming. Her words had long since ceased and only screams and groans and growls remained. For awhile I kept getting frustrated with her, reminding her to use her words to get her needs met. She looked at me with her 20 month old eyes as if I had lost my mind...and maybe indeed I had. So in that moment I stopped, looked at that little girl who was driving me crazy, and scooped her up into my arms. One would think she would respond with thankfulness and love, right? Yeah not so much. The screaming got louder in fact and she flailed about in attempt to free herself of the arms that held her tight. I wasn't really phased. I struggled to carry her and the things we were buying all at one time but i managed to awkwardly proceed to the checkout. In exhaustion she gave in and clung tighter to my arms...laying her head down my my shoulder.

It is funny that I find so many parallels between myself and this sweet almost 2 year old. She so blatantly freely expresses the feelings I make look so tidy and neat. I fall apart behind closed doors, when I can hide from the world, where no one can see the shame of my failure. Now it was never that Ansley had failed at anything. Ansley was simply over her capacity. She was capable of expressing her needs to a point, and than when the exhaustion set in...when her lack of sleep and inadequate nutrition and irritation with a new baby brother being born all came to a peak she lost her connection to what she wanted and what she needed. She had no clue what she wanted or needed. All she knew was that she was in distress and that she was mad about it. She began to fight everyone and everything...in attempt to make her world stop hurting. She didn't need me to wait until she figured out the right words to express what she wanted. She didn't need me to explain to her the reasons behind my decisions. She needed me to put down the other things I was carrying, get down on the floor with her, and scoop her into my arms. She needed to feel safe in the midst of not knowing any of the answers.

I'm not sure exactly how this translates to me. I'm an adult, I don't need to be carried. I know better than to lay on the floor throwing a tantrum...but some days I wish i was brave enough to not care...and to express how I am really feeling. I'm sure some would say the translation is my need to be the "grown up" Bethany and come in and metaphorically pick up that little girl inside myself and take care of her. The problem is that I don't see the little girl Bethany laying on the floor sprawled out, angry at being on the ground and angry if I have to stand up...I see me. As myself. Totally unsure of what to do. I don't know, I guess it just is the picture to explain the feeling inside of me that lacks words. All that is left is suppressed screams and censored growls. All that is left is the silence...is the smile that convinces no one.

I don't know what to do. I don't know how to make it to the next point on my life map. I don't know how to reconcile the feelings and the memories and my relentless faith in Jesus...and the exhaustion that has set in. How long do you fight when it feels like the deeper you go the worse things become? How do you keep pressing forward when there is no sign of light at the end of the tunnel? I know the answer is that you do it by moving with courage. I know that you keep pressing because the only true sign of failure is ending the battle in retreat...that forward movement in and of itself is victory. Maybe the lack of words and the fallen posture aren't the worst place to be. Perhaps its when we have lost all words and lost all fight that we lay broken and mold-able. Perhaps its that when all of my answers run out that I am suddenly able to hear the Lords voice. Its when my best attempt has failed that I maybe become willing to listen to the voices of those who believe the light is coming soon. I ran out of the "I know better"...and I have been left with the broken realization that I really don't know the way out. The only thing I cling on to is that God does.

So tonight I lay broken on the floor, exhausted...trying so hard to figure out what will pacify the swirling of my mind. But instead of numbing out I lay in silence...deciding that sleep will bring morning and morning new light...new hope...new joy...new perspective.

"I don't know much, that much is true. The queries are endless, my answers are few. But life has caused me to conclude, I can face what I don't know by singing about what I do." - Ginny Owens

the war of heart and mind

Sometimes I wonder if the feeling I am experiencing has a word to describe it. It has to...yet there is nothing I know of to explain accurately the way I feel. Its the feeling when you are searching for a word and you know that you know the word...you just can't place it. So often I feel like my heart knows the word but has no capacity to expound on it. Its familiar. Its like a blanket that covers me when its 98 degrees outside. It makes it hard to breath, hard to concentrate, hard to experience life. I am awake and I am feeling and I want it to stop.

Acceptance. It sounds simple enough. I mean if something is true there really is no point in pretending its not. Something is or it is not. End of story. Or so I thought. I have actually found that I am the queen of denial...however I am often times even in denial about being in denial. My heart and my mind are so separated. I can know something as truth in my logistical structured thoughts...and yet deeply believe at the core of who I am that it is completely false in my heart. It doesn't seem possible...it really doesn't. I wish I could explain it to you but that in and of itself would make me uncomfortable because I would have to logically make a decision...which will pull at my emotions which convince my brain that whatever it has decided is a really bad suggestion to rely upon because my heart can't fathom life that way. So my heart tells my mind that what happened didn't happen and for a moment there is peace. For a moment I am content to know that all is well and nothing bad happened...it only happened in a world that seems disconnected and out of reach...a mere figment of my imagination. Its quite confusing. The worlds start to collide and you don't know truth from imagination...you can't tell your heart how to feel because you don't know what to believe. You can drive yourself crazy.

I have been challenged by those walking beside me to listen to the truth my body is communicating, even in moments when its unaware of what we are trying to "figure out." Especially when its unaware of the logistical battle going on in my head. Something happens and my body responds. Loud noise. Over bearing man. People screaming... it all sparks something within me that I am suddenly unable to silence. My eyes see past the present moment and stare into a picture of the past...unaware that the past is actually not the present. It feels quite similar to the war of my mind and heart. Two contradicting situations, reality and past, stand before me and I am challenged to pick which on is truth...and they both are equally real to me. I feel crazy. I feel like I am losing my mind and am dabbling in pain that should always be left where it currently stands...in the past. When you are 3 years old how do you know what is real and what is a dream...how do you know if you are 27? When you see two pictures before you how do you decide which on is right? Everything sounds and seems obvious until the tide has pulled you under and you don't know which way is up. They say when you are pulled under by the waves you shouldn't panic and frantically choose a direction. You should allow it to take you to the bottom so that you can get out of it and then swim back to the top. Ride it out and let the ground be your base of reality. It sounds easy enough, but when you are sucked under out of your control the natural response is to panic and fight...the problem is that fighting will rob you of the strength you need to swim back to the top.

So I know I have to stop fighting the never ending war between my heart and my mind. The best vantage point is never in the middle of the fight. There comes a point when evidence determines a verdict. The heart no longer has a say in what it wants to be truth...because truth remains, unwavering. To fight it is to place yourself in the midst of the undertow where you must wait it out, then hit the bottom, which is the truth you knew in the first place.

I guess I never expected the truth to arise such a brokenness within me. How could I have spoken the "truth" as a possibility for so long and feel so little...and then I see it as reality and it wrecks havoc on my heart. Nothing has changed...except my heart. I feel like I am standing in rags in front of a huge broken mirror...looking into a reflection with so many pieces missing. I see an eye here and an arm there and I see enough to know its me. Maybe not the me I am used to seeing...but when I look into that little girls eyes I see the memories only I could remember. I touch my hand to my face and she does the same. Believe me she pleads. Please don't make me stay here alone any longer.

Piles of Sand

It's been a rough couple of weeks. Adjusting back to Nashville after a week in California with my family has proven to be a difficult task...and has been a constant reminder that life doesn't always turn out the way we think it will. As children we are told stories of adventure and love. The prince comes swiftly on his white horse to rescue us from the evil that impedes our magical lives. We are drawn towards the happy endings and joyful celebrations that the bad has gone, and the good has come. And as a believer I know that one day that eluding novelty will become a reality. Jesus will return and Satan will be silenced and heaven will reign on earth. However, until then, we remain in a fight that doesn't always give us the ending we were raised to expect.

I was watching the biggest loser this weekend, which may not be the most helpful show right now, I know. But the episode I was watching was one in which they had a challenge to dig through these piles of sand to find a big brass ring that had been buried. Once someone found the first ring the other people had to go start over on a brand new pile. It's just sand, right? How difficult could it be? Oh my gosh, it looked awful. The absolute worst part of it though was when someone found the buried ring and everyone else had to go and start all over on a brand new pile. I realized that most of the time that is exactly how I feel. I feel like I am sitting on top of this huge mound of sand and buried beneath me is years and years of baggage. Failures, losses, heart ache and every other deep emotion has been bubbling beneath the surface for years now, only being suppressed by this eating disorder.

I bury that which I want to hide, protect, or pretend doesn't exist...and sometimes something fits into all those categories at one time. So, when asked to begin digging for these buried "treasures" in the heat of day without the shovel you have used for all these years..is daunting to say the least. So I started digging. At first not having the heavy shovel was freeing...its weight wasn't holding me down. However, my hands got hot and the sand was burning and the smell of death was all consuming. That shovel would surly come in handy at this moment, right? I mean I don't even have to use it to bury things once again, I just want to use it to deal with the pain of the moment...after all, I wanted to hide it for a reason. It didn't take long to find these items under pounds of sand. I shamefully dusted them off and tried to avoid all eye contact...dreading all the more the things I knew were still buried underneath. I didn't expect the pain to be so intense. I didn't foresee that something so old and so worn could possibly evoke so much within me. Its over. Its not happening any more. End of story. Right? For all intensive purposes the size of my pile of sand could easily be put into different mounds to look through. But after I pulled that first thing out I wiped my sweat and kept digging. Sometimes things came faster. I would find pieces that fit into a puzzle all buried together, a foot or two apart. I was stunned. Though I knew of many of the pieces the ones that I didn't know struck me hard. How can you bury something you don't remember? I didn't want to keep digging. I was tired and hot and worn out...and emotionally overwhelmed. But things will no longer stay below the surface. The bubbling will erupt and spill over and will ooze of things rotting below. So what do you do? Get back out the shovel and start piling the sand on top, hoping the bubbling will suppress what its containing below? Or in your exhaustion do you keep digging with your burned hands and feet, chancing that you the next thing you find could have the potential to destroy you? Uncovering things you never knew were buried to begin with is terrifing. There is enough that I do know about...I don't want to know anymore. Those are the why moments for me. Why now? If I have forgotten it why do I really ever need to remember. How do I know I'm not making it up? How do I believe I'm not totally crazy? How do I keep searching?

I am exhausted. I am tired of finding things below the surface that I didn't know about. I am tired of the constant heat and pain and work...and I feel guilty for some days desiring to go back. I guess the motivation I use to keep going is the understanding that the things buried beneath me aren't going to go away. At some point the bubbling ooze will reach the surface level and the only way to keep it down will be to get further and further into my disorder...until I die. Because it will kill me. It will kill you. Its not a beauty pageant offering a prize to the thinnest contestant. It lures you in, steals your voice, and takes away your life...while simultaneously convincing you that you will die without it. And eating disorder is hell. The pain of a buried past won't remain silent. It can't be contained by suppression...because it has shaped you and will continue fighting to be acknowledged so it can be healed. I have been digging for far too long to go back. I have uncovered more then I ever expected, and I know I have a long way to go. But if I give up now it would all have been for nothing.

If I told you I was super motivated I would be lying. More than anything I want to just tell everyone that I have reached the bottom of my pile of sand and have made what was buried shiny and new. I want people to be able to see a difference in me...in my life. I want to be somewhere I'm not as I pretend to be someone I am not...but not at the cost of going back to a life that really gives me no life at all. People ask me why I keep going...ask me what is "making" me do it. The only answer I have is that there must be more than this...and there is only one way to find out. So, in pure exhaustion, with no pride left, I keep digging...

Traffic

There are days when my predictability even surprises me. I was driving to work a week or two ago and I hit 5 o’clock traffic in my normal Bethany fashion, I start trying to find a shortcut. The thing is that I have been in that same exact spot on Hillsboro Road so many times and every single time I do the same thing. I exit 440 onto Hillsboro and I get into the left lane, because the right lane is always backed with merging traffic. I then proceed to the first light where the traffic begins. I hate traffic. I hate sitting still when I know I could be moving. I hate thinking about being late and thinking about not being able to get to where I need to be in the right amount of time. I start to feel trapped, stuck. SO, every time, I think it’s a good idea to turn left. EVERY TIME. But here is the problem. I don’t know my way around those back roads on the left. If I were to turn right at the light, I would have no problem. I know my way around those roads easily. So why do I do it? Because in all reality, in the end it will take me more time to try to navigate my way through the back roads then it would to stay in the traffic. But I hate holding still. I know by exploring I am bound to make a wrong turn and end up lost. I know it. I also know I will in the end find my way back to Hillsboro not all that much further than I was when I start the whole adventure.

So as I was once again doing this on my way to work today I started to think about how this parallels so much in my life. You see every single time I take that left turn I really think that this will be the time that it IS shorter and I WILL figure out a new short cut. I really do. And yet, as evidenced by today, I end up back on Hillsboro 10 minutes later having progressed maybe a half a mile. It’s crazy.

The first thing I feel like this shows me is my inability to withstand feeling trapped and out of control. I am always amazed by the people who just sit still, NOT trying to find an alternate route. If I could communicate with them I would probably encourage them to follow me! ANYTHING has to be better than just chancing your luck and ridding out the path in front of you. But is that really true? Perhaps there are times in the world of driving and directions that we find a short cut. But in real life situations the outcome is actually quite similar to my experience today. I am distracted by my MOVEMENT and therefore I am mistaking movement for progression. I get uncomfortable by the discomfort in life. Let’s be serious, life hands out a lot of cards that are awful. Kid’s get cancer. Family members die. Jobs are lost. Natural disasters destroy years of memories in a moment. Bodies are abused. Life hurts and so often I think my answer is finding my own way out…instead of going through the painful event and getting to the other side. I am a “flight risk” as my friend Nikki would say. I get stressed out and take off. I don’t ask for directions or think through my decisions…I want out and I want out now. I can’t tell you how many additional years I have spent in this eating disorder all because I couldn’t withstand facing the pain of my past and my current situation. When faced with traffic most people turn on the radio, listen to their ipod, talk on their phone etc. Distress tolerance skills at their best…man I have been in way too much therapy. : ). I run. It doesn’t even occur to me that I don’t know my way through the side streets of my life. I actually don’t think through much at all in that moment. I see traffic, I know I want out, and I make my first possible turn. Now I am off the direct known path and I am all by myself…recipe for disaster.

The second thing that I found interesting today as I was lost on side streets was that it never occurs to me to get into the right lane and turn right. Isn’t that weird? I think so. I am sure Tiffany would love to psychoanalyze that…but I just find that so interesting. I don’t know what it is that stops me from waiting long enough to switch lanes and turn right. I know those roads only because I have driven them with other people so many times, and they have shown me the way. What is it about independence and self sufficiency that is so captivating, so alluring? I don’t know if it’s the stress of trying to change lanes when people are already trying to merge into that lane or if it’s the impulsivity of the moment…but it’s over and decided upon so quickly that I don’t even have time to think it through. How often do I turn away from the pathway that is being shown to me in order to do what feels like a quick fix?

It’s the “what if” questions that over take all rational thought and overwhelm me. “What if I get stuck in the pain and it lasts forever?” (What if I get stuck in the traffic and never make it to my destination?) “What if I look through things and find more pain and more loss?” (What if the traffic only gets worse ahead?) “What if everyone else see’s the real me and they run away and leave me totally alone.” (What if I am late to work and lose my job and have no way to provide for myself and no one wants me.) “What if…..” It’s crazy. I can rationally see and know that…and yet in the moment, I panic. SO, what do I do with all this wonderful insight? I don’t really know what to do…except to try something different. I face the “traffic” in front of me and consciously make myself do something different. It is the definition of insanity at its finest. I do the same thing over and over again expecting different results…and get frustrated when I am lost and then found only to find I am no further than when I started. It’s amazing how we play out big situations in our lives in smaller scales that reflect the core of what we struggle with. It’s not about the food. It’s not about the size of my jeans. It’s about feeling out of control and being blocked from what I feel is vital to “live.” Interesting…

Healing Pain

This week has been tough. I have been at my end more times then I can count...each time swearing I am going to give up. "Life in my eating disorder was better than this." I nostalgically think back to those days with a feeding tube in my nose, down my throat, and recall much more joy then I actually possessed. So, after giving myself a brief reality check, or at least throwing myself a small pity party, I stand back up and keep fighting. I don't really have a choice. Therapists would say quite the opposite. "Getting better is completely your choice." "No one can make you get better, you have to want it." Even though I roll my eyes even as I type out those words, I know they hold alot of truth. HOWEVER, in many ways I don't feel like I do have a choice. I feel like the choice is being made for me...because to do anything else would be choosing to torture the ones around me that I love so much...but also would be throwing away any chance of a future, a family, and the life I so desperately long for. Some days it feels like more then I can stand. Some days it seems like dying would be the easy way out, because living life in the here and the now is torture. I lived through all the crap that has happened in my life once...and it seems horribly cruel and unreasonable to have to relive it through flashbacks. To have secrets buried so deep for so long only to be brought to the surface, begging for words to be attached to what words could never express, is exhausting. How could there be so much silence for so long...and still there be such vivid pictures? How could I have "forgotten" so much only to have it resuscitated. And its hard to not have a clear understanding of what freedom or "living" truly feels like. Some days I wonder if maintaining the fight would take less determined perseverance if I knew what it felt like to feel free. Then at least I would know the joy of freedom will outweigh the pain of the fight...or the pain of facing the past.

It's quite odd how much Grey's Anatomy inspires me to write. I think the beginning and ending monologues are there to inspire thought and obviously to stir curiosity...but I don't know if its normal for them inspire me as much as they do. I personally like to attribute it to all the therapy I am in...what I won't admit is that it has always had this affect on me. All that said, I just finished watching the season premiere. So, bear with me.

So Derek Shepherd, a world renown brain surgeon, has just come back to working after getting shot by a killer who was loose in the hospital last season. Anyway, Derek came back and took on this patient who had a brain tumor that was inoperable... oh but not for Derek Shepherd. : ). The surgery that was required however was very invasive and would require an unbearably painful recovery. The had to literally cut the kids face in half and break his jaw to get into his brain. So, very very painful. So Derek is paged because the kid had come out of surgery but is in so much pain that he is FREAKING out. The pain was literally driving him insane.



So, this is what Derek says to the patient, Greg: "You have to listen to me Greg. This is the fight, this is the fight. The pain is going to stop and we are going to help you until it does. This is your fight. The tumor's not driving anymore, you are. You are in the drivers seat. Life that's in your head, you get if you fight, got it?" Then Derek turns to Greg's mom, who is a hot mess, and says: "This is pain. It's not a dying pain. This is a healing pain. This is a victory pain. You won. We won."

I got chills. Literally. You could see in this kids eyes the pain...the pain that was debilitating. Derek never denied the pain. The pain was freaking real. The pain was enough to bring anyone to hysterics. I know I may be reading into it but the pain wasn't weak. The pain was just that, pain. Awful, excruciating, make you go crazy, pain. They were pumping him full of morphine but it could only do so much...the morphine couldn't make his broken jaw go away. The morphine couldn't sew his tongue back together and magically reduce the swelling. In many ways the kid could have looked back to the time before the surgery and say he felt much better before...when it was hiding away, killing him slowly. It's the same thing for me I guess. The pain in healing at times feels much worse than the pain of staying sick, hiding from the secrets your mind doesn't want to feel. The truth of the matter was that the tumor would have killed him...and I believe this eating disorder would have killed me. And the removing of my "tumor" tore apart so much in me...and when they sewed me back together the evidence was finally there for the world to see. That which was hiding, sucking the life away, is exposed...and healing from it is just the beginning of the deep, heart breaking pain. The boy had a choice...let the pain of removing the tumor drive him to kill himself...or face the pain for days, weeks, months...maybe even years on end...believing that one day, life on the other side will be worth the fight. It was a choice only He could make...its a choice that only I can choose for myself. But what was interesting was that He didn't only address Greg. He also addressed Greg's mom. Greg wasn't fighting alone...he couldn't fight alone. With a pain and a hurt and a healing so intense, no one can do it alone.
"This is pain. It's not a dying pain. This is a healing pain. This is a victory pain. You won. We won."

the new puzzle

I am learning alot these days. Weeks, well months, on end of group therapy and programing will do that for you. BUT, one of the things I have learned in this last week is that I was a very different person when I was sick. I know, these revelations are amazing, right? : )But seriously, I was so far gone that I really had no idea what I wanted or how I was going to make it through another day...I was just existing, hoping that the next minute was better than the last. The thing that breaks my heart is that I pulled other people into it with me. People loved me enough to step into my broken world and convince me that there was a way out...and they were willing to help me find it. I look back in awe of those people because there was nothing about my life in those weeks and months that made me a good friend. I was self absorbed, depressed, and daily wanting to end life as i knew it. It was God's grace and love for me that He placed amazing people in my life to walk me out of that hell...and thankful doesn't even begin to describe my heart towards them.
So, where am I going with this? I guess what I am seeing or fearing these days is that I am essentially just starting to figure out who I am separated from the things I found my identity in for so long. I would never have said I found my identity in the eating disorder, but I think that's because I could never separate myself from it long enough to see they were two separate things. I guess in some ways I feel like I just woke up from a coma and years have passed and I realized who I have been living "as" isn't me. So what? Right? I mean that's great to some degree, isn't it? Of course! The problem is that it changes the dynamics for everyone. I don't want the same things I thought I needed before I left...things I did need before I left. Before I thought I had to have everyone all around me telling me what to do...because I really was incapable of making even the most basic decisions. Now I want to be making more decisions on my own. I want to spread my wings a bit and try out this whole flying thing...which everyone is all for. But I don't think people feel like they can trust me...which is fair. I wouldn't trust me either. I have found that I had everyone taking care of me before...and now I want friends who can be my friends. I guess I just feel like I am trying to come back to my life and fit into all the same molds and I get frustrated when everything feels so wrong. I still want all those relationships just as much...I still want to be doing all the healthy things I was doing before...but no matter what I try to do I don't fit into those exact molds. Its scary...for everyone involved. I'm not going anywhere or leaving or running away...but I have a feeling people will or have felt that awkward push and pull with me...and I have a feeling its not just with one or two people...i am guessing it is with everyone. I guess I am just learning that who I was isn't who I am...and I don't know if people will like/love/want me, the real me. But the crazy thing is that I can't go back. I can't will myself to go back to the molds I made for myself...I literally don't fit anymore. And, no pun intended, I think I literally out grew them.(OK seriously that's a little bit funny...I mean I gained like 20 pounds since I left...all needed, i know, but still. funny). But for real, I don't fit anymore. I believe the change is for the better. Ok I KNOW the change is for the better. But change is weird and it takes time to figure out new roles and how to interact with people in new ways...the poor people in my life have been through alot with me already and I know I am not always doing it with the most grace and sweetness possible. But I am trying harder than anyone may believe. All the painful things in my life have been dug up and all my coping mechanisms have been taken away...and I am so raw. So my guess is that I am not the most pleasant person to be around...which I bet makes some people wish I could just go back to the way I was before. I'm not going to lie, I have days I think I want to go back...but only because it would be easier.

These are all just thoughts...thoughts that stem from doing alot of therapy and looking at why I am so frustrated that I feel so frustrated when things here don't feel "right". Not in a "I need to move" sort of way. More in a "how do all these pieces fit together" sort of way...because my puzzle changed. Its like the pictures advanced forward a few scenes and now I have no idea how to make everything fit. It involves alot of the same things and same people...and yet it all fits together and feels very different. I thought I was going to get better and come home to a happy ending and it turns out getting better was just the realization that I am not the person I thought I was. And even more so that things are going to keep changing as I walk out this wonderful process people call life. I call it learning how to walk out the freedom that has always been there...I guess I am just now discovering it is mine. Jesus paid for it a long time ago...

Keep fighting

There are days when I feel paralyzed. I feel trapped within my skin...as if I am totally disconnected from this shell of a body and the life from within me is desperately trying to escape. I guess that's why running away never helps. I keep searching for that next thing...when no matter how fast and far I go, I am still there. It's not that I am failing miserably in my recovery. I actually feel like I am making forward progress. I think in some ways that in and of itself IS what hurts so much. I thought that when I reached this place in recovery I would feel more joy than pain. I thought I would laugh more than cry. I thought I would feel stronger...not more lost and uncertain than before.
I met with Tiffany today for one of our sessions. I was expecting us to discuss which days next week I would do the IOP program...and instead she told me that they just don't think I am ready to step down from day treatment. I wanted to fight it with the amount of time I have been in residential and day treatment combined as my defense. I wanted to give all the evidence of why I SHOULD be ready to go down to a lower level of care... and yet somehow those arguments only left me feeling more depressed. I guess the hardest part was hearing that what they really thought I needed was a PHP program...not that they won't help me and have me do day...but that the level of care that I needed was actually closer to a PHP level. Its frustrating. Don't get me wrong, I am the one making the choices on a daily basis. I am the one who puts each bite of food in my mouth. I am the one who is responsible for making the changes I have to make in order to really live the life of freedom God desires for me. And Renfrew is being wonderful. They are trying to help me get a scholarship that would allow me to do day treatment for another few weeks. It is such a blessing. It really is. I guess its always easier to see the negative. I feel like I have failed yet again. I feel like my best efforts aren't enough. I feel trapped in a life I didn't sign up for...I guess no one really asks for this to happen. I never thought one day I would have to fight so hard to escape what seemed like a harmless attempt to lose 10 pounds. I never thought the secrets of my past would haunt me and never really vanish behind the walls I so carefully constructed. I never thought my dreams would feel so far away.
I am so thankful that God isn't caught off guard by this. I am so thankful that my mess isn't too big for Him to handle. I am so in awe that He could still use someone as broken and flawed as me to further His kingdom. I have to keep reminding myself that He is faithful...that even the people He has placed in my life at Renfrew are examples of HIS faithfulness. What a blessing that people see enough fight and desire and effort in me to want to give me a scholarship... it helps remind me that even when I don't see the light at the end of the tunnel for myself there are people who see it for me...who have been there and have walked this path and know the signs much better than I do. God has never been out of reach. He has never walked away as I flail about gasping for air. With each turning of direction He fashions each step accordingly...to set me towards the purpose He has for me. I believe in total freedom. I believe it will come from HIM and HIM alone. So I walk by faith...believing with hope. Even though my plans for my life don't match up with my circumstances...I stand assured that His love endures and His faithfulness is unending. The creator of the universe has me in the palm of His hand. It's easy to be afraid. It's easy to try and take back control and fight for what I think I need...but where does that get me? So, I write this today and choose to stand in faith...believing that His faithfulness is greater than my fear...His love is greater than my depression. His hope is greater than my unknown. So i just keep walking...believing that freedom is a process... believing I am being moved from glory to glory...believing there will be a day when I am free. Until then, I keep fighting.

the perfect package

I did it. I didn't want to and I didn't try to...but somehow I did it. Here I was trying so hard to make it through each day staying totally oblivious to what was really going on deep inside my heart...and today it was shattered. Somehow a mirror appeared in front of my half hearted smiling face and in the reflection I saw reality. It's not happy or smiling at all...in fact its in pretty sad shape. I know you are thinking, well, reality is a good thing bethany. I know, I know...it just sucks to feel the weight of everything.

Getting better is freaking hard. I would like to sound inspiring and confident and detail my life in perfect analogies for the world to learn from my daily breakthroughs...but today is just not one of those days. It actually makes me wonder if I am always full of "it" (possibly lacking a "sh" in front of it). Because today it really feels that way. I started this blog months ago as a way to encourage myself as I encouraged others by walking my journey to freedom out loud...and I'm sorry to announce that i think I am finally starting to reach the "angry phase"... and I just don't see my anger ever being motivational for anyone around me. Again, this is making some of you smile, but try and at least pretend to be as frustrated for me as I feel. So here is my warning. What follows from here might not be happy. It might not be inspiring. It may be flat out annoying or depressing...but I can promise you that its real...and apparently that's all I have to offer at this point.

Like some of you know, I'm not such a fantastic liar. Deep breath, here we go.
I think one of the hardest parts of recovery that I have to make peace with is that its messy. I want the pretty sun dress, perfect hair and makeup, and glowing eyes that match the genuine smile. I want to laugh at the right times and cry when things are sad...I want life to be beautiful. I want to fit in a perfect little package that someone will admire with awe, pick up, and want to keep forever. I want the shiny bow and the glittery wrapping paper. I want the corners to be folded symmetrically and the tape to be transparent. Instead I feel like the package under the tree that no one really wants simply because of the way it has been wrapped. Its the one with the print that doesn't have anything to do with the nature of the occasion. Its the one that has tape everywhere leading you to wonder how there is even a way to somehow get what is inside out. There is no pretty bow. The paper is crumpled and probably screams of a "re-use" of a former present's covering...it has "hand-me-down" written all over it. I have been living my life trying so hard to change the paper on the outside and it seems the harder I try the more crumpled and tattered I become. I am so tired of being a mess. I am so tired of having hand-me-down written all over me. I am tired of my past defining who I am and becoming a selling point, or lack there of, for relationships to come. It hurts. It hurts more than sand on the beach or stars in the sky. My past is no longer the stories I have repeated for years and years...those stories have come to life and have developed a heart beat...the heart beat that I guess was always there but that was silenced in a vault deep within me.

It hurts to come alive...way more than it hurts to stay silent. However staying silent literally robs you of the ability to connect or form relationships with others...so you may be numb or void of emotional pain, but in its place you feel detached and alone...like no one can really love you for who you are. It's an oddly difficult choice at times...stay numb and alone with an appealingly simple put together package...knowing you can never let anyone get close enough to open it or else they would find the used disgusting particle inside. Or, face the disgrace and shame of the content of your package. Face the disgrace and shame of your mismatched print and crumpled edges. Acknowledge the tape that is everywhere and yet is still barley holding you in tack. AND with all of that risk that no one will ever want to get any closer than the paper your present yourself with to the world. I try and tell myself that at least with the second option, if someone ever does want to chance their luck, they will know what they are getting...so they don't expect perfection and find a tornado. They will see a hot mess, and Lord knows why, want it anyway...and find that its exactly what they expected it to be.

I know the right answer is that God has the ability to transform any package and take the pain and devastation and shame and guilt and abuse and sickness and whatever else the world can thrown at a person, and touch it and make it breathtaking. I KNOW that. I even BELIEVE that. But some days, like today, my heart grows weary at how desperate I am to see Him love me enough, ME, to make this yuck into something beautiful. Because it hurts alot. I keep searching for that next thing to fix the gaping hole in my raw heart and I know its HIM. I really do. I just wish I could find a way for that information, that piece of truth, to penetrate my soul. I want that to be tangible so desperately. I want to feel the arms of Jesus all around me as I come out of a flashback...I want to be able to feel His love as I weep in brokenness as the memories of yesterday disappear into the walls of Tiffany's office. I find myself picturing that little girl...since its me I see her dressed in a pretty pink nightgown holding flowers, presenting herself as the only package she knew how to at the time. And the wrong person picked her. They unwrapped her package and tore its contents to pieces...and when they were finished left everything that was inside and all of its wrappings in a pile...and walked away.

Some days aren't stand up and cheer kind of days. Some day I feel pretty successful to still be here to type out my heart in words. I think what is most important though is to make it to the end of the day determined that facing what is inside is the only way to genuinely change what is on the outside. I'm struggling - yes. I'm frustrated and angry and annoyed by the way my life looks right now - yes. I still HATE food- yes. But regardless, I keep fighting. I eat the stupid meals and listen to the stupid treatment team and follow the stupid exercise plan. : )...because I believe there is hope. I believe in the God who is hope. I walk by faith, knowing that He who began a good work in me will be faithful to complete it. Paul said it way better then I ever could...and His chains and bondage were way more literal than mine...

Phillipians 1: 3-10

"I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.
It is right for me to feel this way about all of you, since I have you in my heart; for whether I am in chains or defending and confirming the gospel, all of you share in God's grace with me. God can testify how I long for all of you with the affection of Christ Jesus.

And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless until the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ—to the glory and praise of God."

Dangerously Unpredictable

I don't do well with being in the moment. I'm curious. Restless. Easily distracted. I like to run hard through life, always chasing the next moment...always believing what is to come will make up for what is right now...and its easy to do. Trust me. Its one of those times in my life right now...i don't like how it feels to be in the moment. I don't like the decisions I have to make. I don't like the constraints I feel in direct correlation to "self care". I feel weak and pathetic...and maybe a little on the whiny side : ). I'm exhausted. I left Magnolia Creek late Monday afternoon and started at Renfrew today (Tuesday morning). Here is a little not so secret this about me...I hate change. I know, I'm a basket(my Vessels and Flowers plug!), I'm supposed to love change. But I don't. I thrive in routine. I like to sit in the same place everyday, eat the same food and be around the same people. I find so much comfort in consistency and predictability. Which is awesome considering life is pretty much only predictable in the fact that it always changes.
Today was a hard day. Meeting new people and starting a new program is always anxiety provoking. Calculate in the added bonus of a depleted bank account and a doctors order not to work and you pretty much have a panic attacks waiting to happen. Kidding...kinda. That said, I did ok. Don't get me wrong. I didn't enjoy doing any of it. I hate following a meal plan. I hate asking for help. I hate having to make new connections with new people and I hate missing people I really love. So it sucked, but I did it. The biggest dilemma I am running into right now is trying to figure out how the meal plan from the creek and the meal plan at renfrew match up...figuring out what I need to add (or who knows maybe subtract!) to make everything balance out. They don't have a morning snack at Renfrew so upon leaving today the dietitian told me just to add an extra snack to this afternoon....I looked at her like she must be talking to someone else in the room who didn't just discharge from residential the day before. Getting in a snack and dinner on my own was already my challenge...trying to fit in another one was just too much. So, I did the best I could. I ate my dinner. I ate my snack...and even though I feel like I eat way more than anyone else I know, I am still pressing forward.
I was looking at sweet pictures of my precious nieces today...taken back by just how beautiful they really are and it reminded me oh just how much I want to be a mom. My dietitian here in nashville told me once that doing the right thing isn't going to feel good for a long time...and in fact hating what you are doing might actually be a sign you are on the right track. I understood that today. I hated eating my meals. I hated cooking dinner. I REALLY hate having to do dishes after you eat ( I mean seriously is there any perks to making a mess, eating it, and then having to clean it up. Grrrrrrr.). But I have to believe I am on a pathway that will bring the ability to enjoy life in the moment. And I know that starts now. I know I have to start appreciating the things in the here and the now that I am thankful for...so that I am not constantly living my life for the next thing...and never having anything to show for where I am today. And there are so many things I am thankful for. I have amazing roommates. Amazing friends...and an amazing church family standing around me. I am so thankful...more thankful then words can express.

Right now I continue to choose to walk by faith. I am scared and tired and wanting to just have something familiar to hold onto...some form of addiction or dependency to ease the discomfort. But I have to believe that its only through clinging to Christ...and the people He has surrounded me with...and the truth that He has given to me...that I will experience the freedom I long for. I must run with full abandon onto the pathway that is marked dangerously unpredictable. I guess if things get predictable that is a pretty good indicator that I have stepped off the pathway into the great unknown...that I have fearfully cowered to the ease of destruction. Radical change will only come through giant steps of faith...if it was easy, faith wouldn't be required. So, with sleepy eyes I finish writing this, determined to make tomorrow a better day. I am sad, missing the staff and the girls that have been my family for the last 4 months. I am trying to figure out how to be sad and be just that...sad. Not trying to cover it with behaviors and temporary fixations...maybe even letting a few tears fall down my face...because I will no longer live my life trying to make the right now as comfortable as possible. Running from pain has only led me down a pretty colored road straight to a life of bondage and shame. No more. Its time for radical change. Its time to take the road marked dangerously unpredictable... and who knows, in the end, it might be the path that leads me straight to my dreams.

the choice

Everything is a choice. Everything. There have been moments in the last week that have broken me...literally bringing me to my knees. I am afraid. I am discharing from Margolia Creek next tuesday...after 90+ days in their program I am transitioning to the renfrew day treatment program in Brentwood. I thought after 3 months in a program I would be feeling solid and secure in my recovery. I thought after all this time, all this work and sweat and tears I would have more to show for it than a broken and humbled heart. I have found myself staring in the mirror crying out to the Lord asking Him where I went so wrong...and to help me find my way out of this trap. Its exhausting. Fighting this hard for this long and seeing the progress be so slow, so gradual. I have heard many people tell me over this time that it didn't take me a month to get into my eating disorder and it won't take me a month to get out...but many of us tend to have higher expectations for ourselves...believing we should be super human...that we should be above the statistics. I scoff at the thought of average. Average, I ask myself? Who wants or lovesd or accepts someone that is average? I have to be amazing. I have to be brillant, stunning and strong...meeting the expectations other don't even know that they have of me. I feel abandoned and alone. I feel like I have failed and as punishment Magnolia Creek is sending me away...once again I feel like the problem no one really wants to deal with. So I have a choice. I can crumble to the ground...overwhelmed by the intensity of the feelings...but honestly where will that get me? Or, I can stand beneath the weight of a heart that feels too heavy to bear. I can keep moving forward, even when im not sure if the effort is worth what is on the other side. I am exhausted. But if I don't choose to fight for me who will? So what I want to do is react to the circumstances before me. I want to say its not fair and its too hard and that I hate life...I want to say screw it all. I really do. I am so tired of the shit that life brings with it. Am I allowed to say shit in this? Hmmmmmmm. But I am. There are times i just don't see how its possible to keep going. But still I choose to. I don't have any other choice. I wish something would just come easily. I wish something would just fall into my hands...but what would i learn from that? I know that the testing of my faith bring with it lessons that help me grow closer in my walk with God....its just hard to be thankful for the pouring down rain in the midst of the storm.
Jesus, hold me. Walk with me....I need you more then I ever have before.

Not my will...

Life doesn't always go the way we plan for it to go. I set high ambitions and lofty goals about pulling myself out of the trapings of an eating disorder. I believed that a mixture of pure will and good intentions would be enough...I believed that addiction was little more then a word that weighed other people down...but that I was stronger. I have been at Magnolia Creek for 31 days now. I thought for sure after 30 days here I would be healed, or at least able to maintain the new found eating patterns I would have surely developed. But there is so much more rooted in this pain than putting food into my mouth. Its been a journey. A humbling experience that has reminded me that in and of myself I have nothing. Trying harder alone won't make lasting changes...because I don't have the power to change anything by mustering up the energy and desire and longing...unless all of that is in submission to the Lord and to a team of people around me who can walk with me into freedom. The staff here at Magnolia Creek have blown me away. Never before have I seen a "non Christian" program be so full of people who love the Lord...people who really understand what it means to love fully and embrace deeply. I don't believe a programin and of itself really changes a person. I believe that the Lord can use a program to transform your heart and prepare you for the journey ahead...one that I believe He alone can take you on.
As of right now I will be here for another 2 weeks....with a possibility of stepping down to their partial program after that...or discharging and doing the day treatment program in nashville through Renfrew. The flashbacks have still been pretty bad...happening 1-2 times a day. But they say they are getting better...and that I am coming out of them faster...all of which is good news. But I am commited to this process. I am committed to seeing the life on the other side of this disorder...I am desperate for freedom. There is so much more to this life than bondage. There is a whole spectrum of emotions that allow you to see the beauty, and yes the pain as well, that makes life worth living. A life void of emotion is a life spent missing all the things that make this journey worth living. I haven't been the perfect patient...by far. I haven't been the one to change the fastest or take the most risks...but I have been here. For 31 days. Fully commited to facing a past that has already taken too much time. So I so uncomfortably sit here, daily surrendering too living life. Daily surrendering to the Lord of all creation who has the ability to heal the brokenness and restore the years the locusts have taken. He alone is my hope. And so I wait on Him....knowing that at times the over night healing isn't the one that leads me closest to Him...and knowing that overnight healing isn't the path that most often helps others relate and see the hope that is Jesus. One day at a time I take each step not knowing what tomorrow will hold....but knowing the one who holds tomorrow. I believe there is freedom. He is my freedom...so I hold onto hope when it feels like there is nothing else to cling to.

stepping out on dry land...

I don't have words to describe the way I am feeling. I feel so much so intensely and yet have no ability to communicate those feelings in connection to life around me. I feel totally detached and yet so overwhelmed that i can think, can't breath...can't stand waiting another moment for some relief. Its that feeling you get when there is 3 seconds left on the clock and you are down by one and have the ball...when the result of a medical test determines if someone you love is going to make it...when you know everything around you is about to change...and yet for the rest of the world things just keep passing right by. Its those moments where you wish more than anything you could rewind it and go back in time and choose a different path...you relive those small decisions over and over again and will yourself to have made different decisions. Its the moments where you sit and stare at two options before you...and you wonder if there is a third one which will let you sleep forever. I was on the phone to a lady from Magnolia Creek today trying to get her the medical release from my doctor that she needs in order to admit me on thursday...and it as been such a process to try and get this paperwork faxed over. So finally I got most of the stuff to her and she said to me, wow, you must feel like you have weights on your shoulders. Yeah, I told her. I really do.
I have never felt this afraid of what I am walking into. I have never felt so alone, yet so totally surrounded. I have never felt so guilty and ashamed of where I am at...and of the decisions, my decisions, that have led me to this point. What people don't understand is that this is my greatest fear...to me this is the great unknown. Letting go of all control, all privacy, all respect, and all dignity. I am walking away from the greatest support I have ever known...from attachments I thought I would never want to have. I am forcing myself to trust people that I don't even know...that don't know me at all. I am hurting and so incredibly afraid and I have to go into this next part alone. I know I have the Lord but I am not going to lie...that feels so scary. I am seeing I know Him more now...but being alone, just me and Him is a whole different story. I have spent so much of my life depending on myself...and now that I have finally found a safe place I am walking into hell...into the fire...through the fire. There is a song by JJ Heller called Only Love Remains. It says,

"You burn away the ropes that bind and hold me to the earth. The fire only leaves behind whatever is of worth. I begin to see reality for the first time in my life. I know that I'm a shadow but Im dancing, in your light."

I know that the things being burned off of me are things that really are only holding me down...I am just so afraid. I am so afraid of losing the family that is all around me. I am afraid of losing it all. I am afraid of losing the bethany I have hidden behind for so long...so afraid that what will be left won't be desirable at all...and that all my walls will be gone. I will be exposed for what I am...and that I will be alone.


Lord God, I give you this time. I give you this journey I am about to take. Lord you have led me this far and I pray Lord that your hand and your voice alone would guide me along these steps. Lord be my provision. Be the comfort in the darkness. Be the hope that brings me through the pain. Be in the therapist, the staff, and the women I meet...remind me each day that you are there...and that I am not going alone. I want to walk beside you instead of pulling you behind me Lord. I don't want to run ahead of you or be dragged behind you. I want to take each step with you. Be my strength when I have none. Be my courage when I can't take another step. Give me hope when it feels like all is lost. I pray Lord that as I go into this cocoon you would take who I was before and transform me into the new creation you desire for me to be. When it feels like I am dying Lord remind me that you offer new life...and new mercy everyday. Help me walk through the pain and face it...teach me how to walk arm and arm with you. You are more than enough. My heart doesn't know that but truth remains...you are MORE than enough. Heal me Lord. Heal me for your glory.

seeking the healer...not the healing

The last few days have been a bit of a blur. Every time the wind blows I jump, thinking its the Lord moving and doing something. Which often times it might be. However there are other times when I jump at what looks like it must be from the Lord...and don't bother to ask him before I run at the chance of my miracle. I layed in bed last night thinking...a very common thing for me to do these days. Sleep is miles away and my mind races, as if thinking more about things is going to solve the mountain of questions that stand before me. It was then that I felt it. Not shame. Not anger. But the still small voice that came in the quiet of the night...sad, maybe even hurt...asking me why I was seeking the miracle instead of seeking after the one who holds the world in the palm of His hands. Conviction. At some point my desperation stopped being for the Lord and started being for what the Lord could do for me. Seeking a miracle wasn't wrong by any means...but seeking the miracle instead of seeking the Lord made my perspective get lost. The Lord knows better then to provide the miracle when that alone is what we are seeking...because when the miracle has come and gone our hearts toward the Lord aren't any different. He knows that HE is what will give me lasting freedom. Not a treatment center. Not a certain amount of money. Its Him.
He reminded me of a word He gave me a week or two ago. And in looking back I can see that He wasn't talking just about Selah House. He was wanting me to expect from Him the true character of who He is...and to believe Him for the desires He has for my life. So, I thought I would post that word as a reminder to me...to remind myself to seek after the healer instead of the healing. To remember that He is always good and is always in control. That nothing is outside of His reach....and that I am HIS beloved.
So in the midst of a hard week and the probability that this next week will bring with it inpatient treatment I choose to fix my eyes on Jesus.. Hebrews 12:2 says
"Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart."

So, I end with the word I felt like the word so clearly spoke to me a few weeks ago and change my gaze from the promise to the one who loves sinful men enough to give HIMSELF as a ransom. He alone is what will change us. He alone is what will heal us. He is faithful. He alone is our hope and our reason to live.



The Lord brought me to Exodus 14:13-16.

13"Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the LORD will bring you today. The Egyptians you see today you will never see again. 14 The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still." 15 Then the LORD said to Moses, "Why are you crying out to me? Tell the Israelites to move on. 16 Raise your staff and stretch out your hand over the sea to divide the water so that the Israelites can go through the sea on dry ground."

And then this is what I feel like He said...

My provision isn't inadequate. My supply is rich, full, abundant. It is time to stretch out your hand over the sea and speak that it will part. I didn't lead the Israelites over muddy swampy ground as they crossed the sea- they walked on dry ground. Hold fast to me. I have placed Selah House on your heart for a reason...there is a way. Though it seemed impossible to Moses as He stood at the banks of the red sea I knew the way. Have faith. Know that I see where you are and have not forgotten you. You are at the edge of the sea and it seems as though you are cornered in...but its time to stretch out your hand over the water and watch the sea part before you so that you can cross on dry land. The journey won't be easy. It won't be a quick fix...it will require facing things that will break you...but I will be there weeping beside you. Holding you. You must let them in. You must open your heart and trust me, and trust the process. Tiffany will be here. She will be a part of this for a long time...so don't shut her off when you leave. She loves you...embrace that. Love her...its okay...it won't hurt her. The vulnerability required through this whole process will be painful...but they will walk with you. Be ready for the sea to part...be ready and expectant of dry land. Walk forward knowing that everything about the way you have done life until this point will be changed for the good. No more will you walk around this same mountain. No longer will you fall to this place. You will struggle but you will be equipped to fight and you will be surrounded by warriors who will fight with you...people who are willing to fight with you even until death if ever necessary. You are so loved. This isn't you running. Its following my leading to a place of healing. A places where the busyness of this world will fade away. I love you enough to give you a place of rest. I don't require this to be done in the most challenging "be strong" "barley survive" sort of way. My burden is light...I am giving you this as a chance to heal in safety because it is what is best for you...and as a protective Father I want to give you good and plentiful abundant gifts. You deserve a chance to heal. Money is no obstacle. You are worth all the money in this world. You are a gem. A princess...my daughter...who I will lavish with my care. Stretch out your hands. Pray in faith. Believe this week mountains will move. All you need to do is be still and believe."

So Tired

Have you ever had that feeling in your stomach...the one where you feel a little short for oxygen and your heart is beating real fast? That me, right now. I am laying in bed and for some reason I just realized that going back into treatment isn't just a thing im considering or a fleeting thought out in the future...its most likely a reality that is coming sooner than later. I remember that day when I got on the plane to fly to remuda ranch, scared to death, regretting the decision to board that plane at all. I cried for days. I remember getting to make a phone call to let my mom know I was there safely and just sobbing telling her I changed my mind and I wanted her to come get me. I thought I had just entered hell. So as the reality of the situation and the location of treatment gets settled and figured out...narrowing it down one by one...i get a little short for breath. The reality of the situation laying heavy on my chest...knowing that choosing to give up all control is the hardest decision I have to make...and to me, control is everything. So I sit thinking all this through...Im going to pay some people ALOT of money to hold me ransom, make me gain some weight, and take away the thing I have used as my life vest all my life. Its scary. And the craziest part, to me at least, is that I have convinced myself that I am totally ok. I convinced myself that everyone around me was making a bigger deal out of things then necessary because i somehow gave them that impression, which is my fault of course. But now everyone is concerned and worried and desperate for me...and I realize that I have been basing everything on the wrong picture the whole time. Its scary what the mind is capable of when the reality of what is is too much to contain...so I guess you create a way to make it more manageable.
People think treatment is the easy way out. People think that it is an easier choice...and in theory it is in the moment...because it is a delay...something off in the distance that makes me now crawl out of my skin right now. But then there comes this day when you think to yourself, "crap, what have I done?" I always taught when i got to this spot I would be able to reason with myself and say ok, now lets just eat and go on with life." So I get to this spot where I am like oh, yeah, treatment is expensive. Its scary. I have to leave all the people I know and love and who support me and go live with strangers who want to get me nice and yes, the "H" word. Healthy. In the mind of an anorexic its the code term for fat...its like we think they trick us into being what sounds like a good desirable thing and then the moment someone compliments you on how healthy you look you get tears in your eyes and you are reminded that you have lost your life long companion. Its a loss like any other...its painful, its scary, its lonely...but it does get better. Or so I have been told. An abusive relationship is replaced by health friendships and life becomes green and beautiful. But still, its unknown...so its hard to let go of what is when its all you have ever known...and to reach for something that you have to believe in faith is better than the life I have now. I can hear my words and vows I made with myself years ago...promising I would never need anything from anyone so that when those people left or died...nothing would change in my life. I was my stability...and all these years later I regret that more then I can express. Because now I stand before major life decisions, wondering when I will walk into a treatment center and give up my life to find healing unto a new one. I guess that feeling in the pit of my stomach is good...because it means the winds are changing...just like you feel moisture in the air before it even starts to rain...this feeling eludes to a great life shift at hand. Its scary...I'm not sure I am brave enough to keep walking...so I have faith for what will be as if it is already here. I believe the Lord when He says we will reach the other side of the sea... and I learn how to take off the heavy burdens I have carried for so long and walk in the strength and mercy that is new each morning. If only my heart could feel the truth instead of having a death grip on what it feels. My mind never has been good at convincing my heart of much up until now...but I guess there is always a first time for everything.

Hold on, Help is coming.

I haven't been blogging much these days...probably because i run from the idea of getting any more introspective than i already am. I am constantly thinking about the daunting decisions I have that stand before me as a intersection in my path. So many choices, different paths to take...with only one common thread...staying on the one I am currently on isn't an option. I don't do well with too many options. I will sit and think about each one forever and before i know it some have passed me by while I have been laying out the pros and cons of each. Life is exhausting...that I know for certain. But that's not where we end. Life isn't a streamline of days crawling along just so we can get to the next one. There is more...of this I have to be certain. I feel like I may have written this before but a mentor of mine the other day jokingly told me I just have a higher capacity to hit rock bottom then most. The good news is that the quality or lack there of that allows me to get that low is the same determined stubborn quality that can get me out. There have been numerous days when giving up was far more attractive then pushing forward. After all who wants to face a past that seems to have buried burdens hiding all over it? But isn't that such the tactic of the enemy? Isn't it so him to make us think that out past is going to be our future and by facing what was we are only going to relive it in what is right now. I'm scared. Don't get me wrong. Im not a sudden enthusiast for diving into trauma and pain...but what I am seeing more and more these days is that love wins. Hopelessness didn't win those thousands of years ago. Jesus wasn't just nailed to a cross to die and stay buried in the ground. Love won. Love wins everyday. And when we start to feel like there is no reason to keep pushing forward the Lord will, if we are willing, wrap us in his arms and surround us with His love through His people. I have never felt more loved then I have in the last week...which is odd because I have also never felt as overwhelmed and broken as I have in the past week. Interesting, isn't it? That in the time when I am the most broken and the most bound and helpless and hurting...its then that the Lord brings in more love and care then I have experienced in my entire life. He meets our needs...just not in the way we expect it. We expect so often for Him to remove the pain or prevent the painful situation...the illness, the death, the abuse, the heartbreak. But so often those things come as a result of our freewill. People's sin doesn't just touch them...it spreads and bleeds out entangling all of humanity and sickness and disease and abuse and heartbreak runs like streams through all of our lives.
This last Friday Rachel was talking about suffering at frontline. Not my favorite topic, I won't lie. But she was talking about those moments when we sit totally broken before the Lord and in total anguish look to Him and beg Him to save us. Beg Him to heal us or our dying loved one. We say God, you can totally do this and we believe it...and He with tears in His loving eyes says no. What then? I wished i couldn't relate to that. I wished more then anything I was wondering what that must feel like or how one would respond to that sort of seemingly apparent abandonment...but I understood. The answer is that God's provision doesn't always come in the form of stopping the pain from hitting us...often times it comes in the form of comforting us within it. I have a therapist who is truly amazing...such nurturing and gentle acceptance from the Lord. I have roommates who would walk to the moon with me if i asked them to...who never give up and always take every opportunity to serve me. I have friends who war with me and believe in me...never for a minute wavering and wondering I am worth the challenges and pain of walking through this. I have mentors who LOVE me with everything in them. They hold me when I cry and push me when I am wanting to stop. I have moms who check in on me and coach me when I have no idea how I will take the next step. I am surrounded...and the most amazing part is that all of it turns me back to the Lord is awe. This week I was driving in my car talking to the Lord in tears asking Him if He loved me this much to surround me with everything He has...when I have done nothing but screw up and fail and fall and walk away from Him. The thing that I don't even have capacity to believe is that He loves me more.
So its been an awful week. I lost my job. I have no money and need like 30,000 dollars to get life saving treatment. My dad's dad, who i can't stand, is dying...which just stirs up so many feelings from my past...and raises the question of why He is still alive and not my Father. I have been passing out and they think that's going to keep happening...its just alot.. I am at capacity. I really am. BUT, the Lord is good. I say that and actually mean it. Its not just words of encouragement because its the right thing to say...its the truth. I have spent more time at the feet of Jesus then I have in the last year combined. And not only do I believe He is going to provide...I believe He is providing. I see No way but I know He is the way. I know He knows I need treatment and I know the responsibility in some ways now rests on Him. He is my Father. I am just the child. I am in His hands...
All those years ago Love won. So, this is the worst its ever going to get. Life on earth is as bad as it gets...its not our home. But He created us to live this life with joy, and with abundance of His grace and His mercy. He made us with plans to reach the lost...so that more may come to know Him. So I keep walking. I walk and live each day only with the strength He gives me, because in my flesh I am exhausted. At the end of the day I have to step back and even when tears are rolling down my cheeks, say to myself, Love WON. He will never leave or abandon me. He will never walk away or tell me I am too much. He says He came to save the least of these...the worst of all sinners...the outcast and the forgotten. So I know He has me. I qualify.
I am surrounded. The mountains He moved this week were primarily the mountains I had blocking my perspective. I was afraid of that. But nevertheless, I now see love. All around me. The word I felt like He gave me this week was this..."Hold on. Help is coming." Think of the impact of that. I just think of those times when people are holding on for dear life and they lose hope and think no one will find them or see them or save them...and they give up...right before they are found. If someone would have told them to just hold on, that help was coming, wouldn't that have given them the courage to fight through another day. Its a total change in perspective. This battle isn't going to stay like this forever. It was as though He was that voice in the wilderness shouting out to just hold on...that He was help and He was on His way.
He sees the pain I am in. He sees my heart and my dreams and my desires and he hasn't forgotten me. He hasn't stopped looking or fighting. He simply says to me,
"Bethany, hold on. Help is coming."

keep walking

There are so many unknowns right now. Every way I look I see mountains...every path seems to bend in a way that limits how far down it I can see. So many decisions feel out of my control...and the ones that do feel like are in my control are actually the ones that are controlling me. Everything is spinning. I hit a wall...the edge of a cliff...the bottom of the well. My resources and my plans have failed me and like Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden...i find myself hiding from the only one who can save me. He is all I have. He is my only hope of freedom. He is the only one who moves mountains. He is my Father, my provider...He is the one who gave me life. So I'm terrified but in that there is some sort of peace because i have nothing left in me to try and figure it out. I have no more doors to pry open. I have nothing left to trade or barter. I am out of control...out of energy and out of the parameters of my plans. I had a hard conversation today...many hard conversations today. But one of them in particular left me feeling the weight of the situation more than any others have in the week or so. When everyone has stated their opinions. When everyone has picked their side. When everyone has gone back to living their own lives I sit face to face with my maker...so clearly in need of a savior. No one understands me the way He does. No one knows my heart the way He does. No one knows the plans of my life like He does. No one is always with me like He is. I don't want to be in charge any more. I don't want to be the one making the big decisions. I want to be the child for once in my life and allow someone else to keep me safe. That doesn't negate my responsibilities. That doesn't negate my choices. But it allows me to hand over the map I created for myself and start following the map He has made for me. I'm not one to learn lessons quickly. My stubborn pride and determination can be my biggest enemy. So it has taken me coming to a point where I no longer have any idea of what to do. I feel like the Lord has said to go to Selah House. I really thought that is what I was or am hearing. But I am taking a step back and handing that back to the Lord. 50,000 is a 50% discount. Oh my goodness. Thats alot of money. You see people think going into inpatient treatment is an easy option. Putting your life on hold is never easy. Swallowing your pride and admitting you are out of control is never easy. Having someone watch every move you make is never easy. People going through your things and telling you what to eat and what to do...not easy. Its humiliating. Its embarrassing. It is at times unbearable. But it would at least be safe. I know there I will be taken care of. I know there I can heal. So maybe I made that out to be my savior. I honestly don't know. But the only way to know for sure is to hand it back to the Lord and trust He will give it to me if its His will and in His timing. I have nothing left to do but trust the Lord. I have no other options other than to walk where HE leads...because standing still is sure death and I have no resources to carry out my own plans. My strength has failed...so I have to walk in His. Its a painful blessing to receive...you never want to hit rock bottom...but there is a hope in knowing you are no longer the one calling all the shots. I was never created to be self sufficient. So I have to keep walking. Eyes closed listening for the voice of the Lord to lead me...I take each step...believing this must be the path to freedom.

shiny paper

Years ago I heard a story in a sermon at church about a tribe of people in Africa that consider money brain to be a delicacy. Its awful, I know, but there is a point to me repeating this, I promise. Well the story went something along these lines...The people who were the hunters of these monkeys had discovered a very interesting trick to capturing them. They would dig very narrow holes in the ground that were deep and wider at the very bottom...just big enough for a monkey to reach their hand down into it. Inside the holes they would put a few pieces of candy and some shiny paper...and then they would leave. Once they left the monkeys would come out and find these holes and reach down into them and grab onto the shiny paper and candy. The problem was that when they made a fist their hand was to wide to bring back up the narrow part of the hole. So instead of letting go and walking away these monkeys would hold onto this paper and candy even to the point of the hunters walking right up to capture them. Their fists would be bloody from trying to pull it up for so long and yet they held so tightly onto something that was empty to begin with. They walked right into the hands of the hunter, holding so tightly on to something that was only, in the end, going to destroy them. Sound familiar? My shiny paper looks better, or so I think. Beauty, control, self sufficiency...they are so much more then just a shiny piece of paper...or are they?
This week I went to see Tiffany on Tuesday and she told me she would like me to go into the hospital on Friday to get nourished and hydrated. I smiled at her, in my mocking sort of way, and told her that was impossible. I had to work this weekend. Things weren't that bad. my weight wasn't that low. I wanted to lose weight and there was no way I was going to go sit in a hospital bed for my weekend when I could be working. The week passed in slow misery as the long days at work sucked all energy from my body. Depression came in as an intoxicating smell willing me to lay down and stop fighting this terrible thing others call life. I talked to other people in my life and tried to be honest with them about the depth of the struggle I was facing...and yet even my optimistic honesty left people telling me I should submit and eat and that I was on the right track...to just keep going. Discouraged I wondered if this was it...maybe this is as good as it gets. Maybe this is fighting and this is how it feels to live life. Maybe I am fine and this is what other people feel but it doesn't feel this way to them...I am just freaking crazy. Two weeks ago the Lord started to stir the idea of inpatient treatment. I laughed thinking that was clearly a tactic of the enemy...because that would be choosing the "easy" way out...and as Christians are we supposed to do the hardest thing possible at all times? But then the dreams continued...I would pray and pray and they would just keep coming. So I finally started praying about inpatient and asking the Lord what in the world He was doing...and He led me to the website of a place called Selah House. Its crazy. CRAZY. I would never in a million years tell you this was what I should be doing right now. I have a million reasons not to and very very few reasons why I should...so I prayed about it. I decided if this was the Lord that this place I had randomly found would resonate with others...the first two professionals I talked to said they LOVED Selah House and that it would be their first choice for me to go there. Still I thought...this is weeks and months away...i have so much time to get my crap together. So I met with Tiffany on Friday and through the eyes of a concerned mother she pleaded me to go into the hospital that day. I asked her her thoughts about selah house and she told me to call them that day. So I did...and they were amazing. The problem comes into place with money. Its really really really expensive...and I don't have any way to pay for it. I would be lying if i told you I knew exactly what to be believing the Lord for. I don't know if He just wanted me to walk in obedience to just call them...or if He actually wants me to go there. All I know if that I have been holding onto shiny pieces of paper for a really long time watching as the hunter came closer and closer...but terrified to let go and lose what was in my hand. The tricky part of an eating disorder, or most addictions that have gotten out of hand, is that stopping isn't as easy as just not doing it. Hence the word addiction. I can't help but place a link to the addiction dance from a few seasons ago on so you think you can dance...it in so many ways perfectly describes the battle within me everyday. .
There have been times in my life when I feel like I wake up from a long confusing dream and find myself in a place I didn't even know I was in. I look at my hands and the chains around my wrists and wonder when I allowed myself to enter such bondage. the enemy has wanted me to believe the answer is to simply go back to sleep and keep dreams...but I am seeing that the Lord is saying its time to wake up and face the reality of the chains... seeing that I didn't get there overnight...and that getting out might take some time. I don't know where the Lord is leading...but I know that the way things are going isn't going to lead me to life. I have watched the hunters approach for far too long and the decision of letting go of the shiny paper has to be made. Sometimes the best way to let go of control is but relinquishing it to someone who won't let you return back to the shiny paper in the ground. Treatment isn't a quick fix. Its the beginning of a journey that will equip you for the battle. I don't know the road before me. I just know that the road I am on is certain death. And the reality of that hit me hard this week. I have to go a new way...I don't have a choice anymore. Please be praying for me. I need a financial miracle. Literally. I know the Lord will provide for the path He takes me...but I would love for you to partner with me in faith.

John 15:5-17

“Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing. Anyone who does not remain in me is thrown away like a useless branch and withers. Such branches are gathered into a pile to be burned. But if you remain in me and my words remain in you, you may ask for anything you want, and it will be granted! When you produce much fruit, you are my true disciples. This brings great glory to my Father.
“I have loved you even as the Father has loved me. Remain in my love. When you obey my commandments, you remain in my love, just as I obey my Father’s commandments and remain in his love. I have told you these things so that you will be filled with my joy. Yes, your joy will overflow! This is my commandment: Love each other in the same way I have loved you. There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command. I no longer call you slaves, because a master doesn’t confide in his slaves. Now you are my friends, since I have told you everything the Father told me. You didn’t choose me. I chose you. I appointed you to go and produce lasting fruit, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask for, using my name. This is my command: Love each other.