i wasn't supposed to see it

when i started treatment for my eating disorder in the summer of 2012, i didn't know what to expect. all i knew was that my life had become unmanageable. i could not keep existing like i was. notice i didn't say living. because i wasn't living. i was simply going through the motions of day to day life. some days more successfully than others. some days less so. some days i couldn't make it to work or get out of bed. some days all i could do was think about food and when and how to get it and when and where to throw it up.

i've had some version of disordered eating all of my life. restricting and purging anything "bad" started in 8th grade. i was 13. it took me 17 years to really get help. that's a long time to spend obsessing about something like food and body image and weight and self worth. last night i was out walking shelby and an amazing peace came over me. i realized that i was done. i am done obsessing about food. i'm done obsessing about my weight or skirt size. i'm done believing that my worth lies anywhere other than in the loving arms of my Savior. i am choosing to take care of my body and health because He took the time to make me. He took the time the dream me up in this world of 6 billion people. He decided that i was worth making. and His is the greatest love story there is.

you see, this weekend i got to spend the night in the hospital. bronchitis and life-long asthma kicked my butt and i had a small portion of my right lung collapse. i resisted going to my "real" doctor because i knew she would weigh me. i do all of the recovery eating disorder things i'm supposed to like weigh backwards, don't tell me, etc., but i've seen it before or something was said and it's sent me spiraling before, so i avoid that and do to the minute clinics and urgent care where they just ask you for your weight. and yes, i shaved off about 20lbs. anyway, back to the hospital. so the nurse tech comes in to get all my vitals and brings in the scale. i panicked. both of my parents were in the room. as well as this tiny nurse tech and the nurse. i was so embarrassed. i told her that i needed to way backwards and not be told my weight and she said, "ok i get it, it's a girl thing" and i said no, "it's an eating disorder thing." i stepped back onto the scale and looked at my mom. i have no idea if she could see the number but i yelled at her that she didn't need to see it either. ashamed. not only of my lack of care for the body that she grew for 10 months, but that what that number said actually impacted who i was in her eyes. it doesn't. i'm her baby girl at 100lbs or 300lbs. it doesn't matter. i've been bothered by my reaction since and feel as if i need to apologize for snapping at her. i took my shame and cast it on her because that was easier than accepting where i am and where i've been and start moving forward. it was a real eye opener.

i've been working a lot with my therapist about getting out from under the shame that i've been stuck in for years and in a lot of ways i've come so far. i am at peace with my decisions made in past relationships and confident that no matter what happens in that realm of my life i am NEVER alone and i am loved by the most amazing Father. it took a while to get there. i still regret my decisions and knowing my heart now wish so much i could go back to that teenager and tell her what true love looks like. what unconditional love looks like. what a real man looks like. but i can't. i can only learn and move forward and hope that maybe my story can help someone else along the way. the shame with food has been harder to come out from under. our society is so caught up in getting healthy, losing weight, airbrushing, BMIs, etc. it's all we see, it's all we hear about, it's all we know. since being in treatment i've become much more sensitive to these messages and while they don't trigger me like the once did to act in a way that harms myself, they infuriate me. no one who loves me cares what my weight is anymore than i care about theirs. sure, they want me to be healthy so i'll stick around these parts for a bit, but the number, the size, is just crap. it does not matter.

that brings me to the title of this post. on monday, i went to the gyno for my yearly check up and again followed my eating disorder procedure of weigh backwards, don't tell me, etc. the nurse tech there is great and totally respectful of that and so is my doctor and her nurse. but this morning i pushed the envelope. i logged into my health account through the practice and clicked on vitals and i saw that number. what's more i saw the numbers from as far back at 2010 (when i was in the height of restricting and weighed a number my body has no business being). the numbers are very different and range over many pounds. but i wouldn't go back to 2010 and be that size in that place again. i know that. i like me now. i'm not ashamed of my heart anymore or my actions and while i'm still a work in progress, i'm so much better than i was.

a year ago, seeing the number i saw today would have sent me straight to papa johns for pizza and bread sticks so i could continue to punish myself for being fat, gross, ugly, unworthy, etc. but that's not what happened today. today, i saw the number. i didn't like it, but i went to lunch and ate a balanced meal. i don't feel like i'm a lost cause anymore. i will get better because i have the God of Angel armies fighting before me and behind me and there is nothing better than that.