Ordinary Oysters & Other Unassuming Ploys of an Eating Disorder

The Eating Disorder will stop at nothing to regain a foothold in the life of someone on the road to recovery.

It's the week before Easter, and our house is abuzz with Passion Play rehearsals, costumes, schedules, call times, and everyday living in between all of that. Those of you who live in Jacksonville can probably relate.And I'm sick in the middle of all of it. I'm typing those words on purpose, because acknowledging I'm sick makes me feel very guilty. So I'm challenging the guilt and owning it.Typically, when I blog, I go back to my treatment handouts to see what we worked on at residential treatment on this day last year. Often, it relates to a present struggle. In one of the articles we were given in a group on March 27, we read the following excerpt:

An experience we have heard often is that the only time someone with an eating disorder lets someone else take care of her is when she is sick. At other times, she does not feel she deserves the care and cannot allow herself to be needy. In some cases, the inability to accept care is so extreme that even when she is legitimately sick, she will deny it (Hidden Feelings from Surviving an Eating Disorder, 2015).

It's highlighted on my copy and marked with question - maybe this is why I've always denied that I'm sick and feel guilty about being sick when I can't deny it??I'm leaving the eating disorder behind and have to change these beliefs. Guilt is not from God. The doctor asked me to rest for two more days, and that's what I'm doing. I may or may not have had some gentle reminders along the way;)A little over a week ago, I wrote about a song God used to really encourage my heart. If I'm perfectly honest, I was very confused by the response. WordPress gathers data that tracks page views for each post. It wasn't read by very many people.Now please don't get me wrong, I surely don't write just to see how many people will read it. That's not what it's about. But I do feel that the more people it reaches, the more the chance there is that God will use it to help and encourage.This was a significantly deep plunge on the bar graph. I couldn't wrap my mind around it. I didn't write very much about myself in that post. It was largely focused on the theme of God's love with supporting verses. Why would people want to read more about my struggles than they would God's love? (My husband was quick to challenge that thinking, so I apologize for jumping to that conclusion).But later that week, a friend who moved away a few years ago messaged me. She had undergone one of the hardest things a mother could face. And in the middle of all of that, she took time to thank me for writing that post. That will humble you pretty quickly. She said that my recent post was a great reminder to her of God's love and that He is in control, which she knew. But somehow in the middle of her trials and heartache, her focus had shifted, and God had used my words to encourage her heart.This was such a great reminder to ME that God doesn't need anything I write or don't write or a certain number of people to read what I write or don't write. He can use whatever He wants to use when He wants to use it. And I've always known this. But somehow the thought was twisted in my mind that the more people that read it, the more of a "chance" there was for God to use it.But God doesn't need chances. He does what He pleases, and He knows no limits. I've always said and still believe with all my heart that even if sharing my struggle can encourage one person, it's worth sharing it.So my worry about the dip in page views and content readers wanted to read was uncalled for. My job is to ask God to give me words to share and to share them from the most honest place in my heart. And let Him do the rest, despite WordPress statistics.I always have long prefaces. Sorry about that, but thanks for hanging with me! I write all of that to set up this statement - I'm not sure what I have to share today will be very helpful to very many. But every time I try to start another post, this is all that comes to mind. So I'm trusting this is what God wants me to write. I'm sharing it, just in case there's one who needs to hear it.Some days "Bringing Your Brokenness" is easier than others. Today feels not so easy, but I named my blog with intentionality because I believe in the importance of doing what it says. I don't ever want to be hypocritical.So here's the ugly truth.On January 19, the day I posted Lurking Within Me, I reached a turning point in my recovery. I buried the eating disorder. And God has given me the strength day by day to not look back. He's allowed me to encourage other ladies in relapse with the story of my surrender, all without engaging in behaviors. Even though the temptations and struggles were still so very difficult, I refused to go back. It was no longer an option. It felt so good to have finally "figured this out" and freeing to see pieces of recovery falling into place.Until last week.But it wasn't because God stopped giving me strength. Rather, it was because I didn't recognize a lie for what it was. And it seemed perfectly justifiable to act upon that lie.Looking back, I can see that God's strength was right there. All I needed to do was reach out to the team He placed around me and run the thought by them rather than rely on my own understanding. But instead, I "just knew," and made the accommodations accordingly.I ordered a fried oyster sandwich for lunch. First of all, I don't even remember the last time I had oysters.  Do I even like them?! Second of all, fried?!?!Since that day of surrender in January, I'd been pushing the eating disorder every chance I could get. If it was a fear food, I ordered it just because it was. If I found myself looking for the lighter fare on a menu, I wouldn't allow myself to order that. That's how you challenge the eating disorder.But on this day, for whatever reason, I challenged it big-time. A po boy roll, which well exceeded my bread exchanges, fried oysters, which included more bread and exceeded the fat exchange, and sauce - more fat. All of it was scary. Well, I did have applesauce, and it was safe, but it only covered a small portion of the plate.I decided I could eat half of it, and it would probably meet my exchanges without exceeding too much. So I ate that and some of the applesauce. But then I got really nervous, because I wanted more. I'm not at a place in my recovery yet where that feels acceptable. But then - horrors - I picked up the fork and ate the rest of the fried oysters on the sandwich.I sat in that seat feeling the shame and guilt from letting my eating get out of control and not holding to the "established plan" of eating half. Being out of control never sits well with someone struggling with an eating disorder. Mind you, I was with my husband and younger boys, so this could not be evidenced on my face. I think sometimes that makes it even louder on the inside. My heart was pounding so hard, so fast.Each step back to the car made me more determined that I had to make this right. This would be simple to fix, I assured myself. I would just compensate for those extra exchanges over the next couple of days. Easy. Done. No one would know the difference and it would fix what I'd done wrong in my body.The sad thing is I couldn't even tell you the exchanges I missed. I know I missed some exchanges at dinner, evening snack and a supplement that night, and probably at least an exchange or two from each meal the next two days. I was back to my old ways, just like that. I didn't even see it coming.It's crazy that I can see now that all of those missed exchanges well over-compensated for the exchanges I may have exceeded Sunday afternoon. But I remember that "just in case" feeling that I needed to miss one more. And then another. Then just one more...just to be sure.I saw my dietician on Tuesday despite trying to get out of it for Spring Break. And that freaked me out even more, because even after all of that, I'd still gained weight. I couldn't bring myself to tell her I'd messed up. I just couldn't bear the shame.As I thought about it throughout the remainder of the afternoon, I realized that things were getting out of hand again. What had I done?!And I was so angry. SO ANGRY with myself. I'd blown it! All of the hard work, all of the challenges, all of the difficult emotions I'd sat with, all of the progress God had given me - I'd thrown it all away. OVER TWO STUPID FRIED OYSTERS!!!! Really, Amie? Pathetic. Hopeless. Weak. Deserving of every bad thing coming.We were celebrating a birthday that afternoon, so I tried to just push all of it out of my mind.On my drive home, I started to pull it apart. I was so irritated with myself for "looking back." Now I couldn't say that "Since January 19th, I've never intentionally missed an exchange..." That really just made my skin crawl.I'm such a black and white thinker. I either do it all the way, or I don't do it at all. I know that recovery isn't perfect, but somehow, I guess I believed it would be for me this time?! Honestly, when will I learn that I'm not special. But being a perfectionist definitely played its part in the shaming.I felt completely defeated because I could no longer claim that. I wanted full recovery so badly, and I wanted to be strong and "recover well." Now that was ruined.And why did I allow myself to get so freaked out to begin with? It was two fried oysters. I have had it drilled over and over in me that my body can handle that. I don't eat [fried oysters] every day, all day. It's OK to eat them from time to time, and I responded to my body's signal that it wanted more food, and that's what I'm supposed to do.But I didn't think about all of that. All I could see was that I'd eaten too much, and too much of a fear food at that.It looked like I had two choices. I could admit I'd slipped; stand back up; and walk in the right direction. Or I could believe that there really is no hope for me. There's just no way I'll ever be free of this eating disorder. And just make the best of what I could. I wasn't feeling very confident.Then the phrase one of my pastors said a year or so back that God has brought to my mind over and over again ran through my mind, once more. "If there is no hope, then Jesus is dead. But Jesus is not dead, so there is always hope."I guess the only thing I've proven is that without Jesus, I am hopeless. But Jesus IS hope, and He lives in me. I knew that I could not give up on full recovery.I confessed my sin of trusting in my own understanding and hiding things from my team. I asked forgiveness for that and asked God to help me work on the black and white and perfectionistic mentalities, because I was still so disgusted with myself for making a mistake.This took place last Tuesday evening, and here I am a week later, finally blogging about it. I'm ashamed. Period. I messed up, and it's humiliating. It's just plain hard to be honest before one another.But it's not right for me to blog about all of the victories and hide the reality that sometimes even with our best intentions, we fail.So I'm here to say that I failed. My goal was to bury the eating disorder and never look back. It wasn't an option for me. But Satan is alive and well, and he sold me a lie that I chose to swallow. He does not want me to succeed.What will I do differently next time? I'll run the thought by the professionals God's given me and make sure they agree rather than relying on myself. I'll voice my fears and ask for accountability based on what I'm tempted to do. I'll ask for reassurances of truths.If you've never struggled with an eating disorder, you may be wondering why I've just written 2,000 words about missing exchanges. I can totally see how that seems so ridiculous. But for someone in recovery, it's a very significant issue. Food is medicine. And every exchange gives your body what it needs to heal. To miss exchanges is to give in to eating disordered thoughts which take over quickly and fiercely and lead to much greater issues. I must follow the meal plan. Without exception.But we all have something within us that we're so desperate to give to Jesus for good. Tonight, as I think about Jesus and all that He is, I believe that He knows how badly I want to be healed. When I think about His deep love for me, I feel so comforted to know that as soon as I said I was sorry, my slip was gone - far removed from me. I can move on as if it never happened. He doesn't change. The same hope is right there in front of me. And it's there for you, too.That makes my choice an easy one. I choose Jesus and His plan for my life. That doesn't include the eating disorder. So I made a trip out to the spot in my backyard where I buried the eating disorder and recommitted my promise to surrender it to Him for good. And I thanked Him for His grace that makes it possible for me to do that.And then I got back on track. I told my husband I'd missed some exchanges. He did what he's been taught to do with challenging me to do the next best thing (in this case it was to make them up). He said I needed to eat a Clifbar. Bless his heart - can you believe I fought him on that? The eating disorder just doesn't give up. But I ate the Clifbar, because deep down, I knew he was right. And when I woke up Wednesday morning, I got back on my meal plan and determined to keep surrendering.In closing, I want to apologize to you, the ones who are so sweet to read my blog and give encouragement and support. I do feel as though I've let many people down, and you are some of those people. I am truly sorry, and I promise to work even harder.I pray these kinds of posts are few and far between, but I also want to keep it real and know that sometimes these will be necessary. I'm reminding myself and gently reminding you that it is OK to be broken. God sees it and understands it and loves us in spite of all of it.And it's so comforting to know that we aren't alone in our brokenness. When we share that brokenness with one another, there's a connection like no other. I think that's God's gift to us in the midst of our struggles and a part of His plan for working all things for good.Maybe your struggle isn't with a meal plan. Maybe it's not even related. I hope you're in a good place right now. But if you're not, please don't give up. Remember that if there's no hope, then Jesus is dead. But Jesus is not dead, so there is always hope. Reach out and take hold of it today.The truth I had to share today was ugly. But God is in the business of making beautiful things from some of the ugliest parts of our lives. And I trust Him to work all of this for good - not just my victories, but the messes I make as well. And I'm so thankful for His relentless love that never gives up on me despite the ever-growing pile of messes I keep making.