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.