Tag Archives: Eating Disorders

There comes a time when you have to stand up & shout

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“Real beauty doesn’t need to starve itself. Real strength doesn’t need to be violent. Real intelligence doesn’t need to be bragged about. Real women don’t need someone to tell them they are wonderful, or beautiful or lovable. Real women already know it!”

“There comes a time when you have to stand up and shout: This is me damn it! I look the way I look, think the way I think, feel the way I feel, love the way I love! I am a whole complex package. Take me… or leave me. Accept me – or walk away! Do not try to make me feel like less of a person, just because I don’t fit your idea of who I should be and don’t try to change me to fit your mold. If I need to change, I alone will make that decision. When you are strong enough to love yourself 100%, good and bad – you will be amazed at the opportunities that life presents you.”

~Stacey Charter

“This may sting a little”

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I am putting myself through laser treatments to take care of some things that have been bothering me for a while. I’m not sure what I was thinking “laser treatment” is, but for some reason I was not associating it with being burned.

Well…that’s exactly what it is…being burned.

The pain was excruciating and I told the doctor if I could have reached him, I would have punched him in the throat. He just smirked and said, “It will all be worth it when we reach the final treatment and you see the finished product. Have a good day, Mrs. Cannis. See you next time.”

I thought, “Next time?! There won’t BE a NEXT TIME!”

I cried like a baby. The burning continued for several hours. I felt like my nerves were on fire. Tylenol didn’t help (which is what they recommend for “mild” discomfort.) I have had enough medical procedures to know that when a doctor says, “You will have mild discomfort.” What he really means is, “This is going to bring you to your knees, make you whimper like a child and wonder why you ever agreed to this treatment.” The “mild discomfort” burned like hell fire.

24 hours later, I was to remove the bandages for the first time. They had warned that there may be a blister. Thankfully my hubs was a medic so I had him look at it. (Sexy, right? Not even a little.) They had given me a small needle to puncture any blistering, clean it, coat it with antibiotic ointment and re-cover.

At first glance, Chris said he counted about 15 small blisters.
“WHAT?! Why did I do this?!” The tears began to well up in my eyes and the lump was forming in my throat.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Um…I guess so? I don’t know? WAIT!”

“Did that hurt?”

“No.”

“Good. Only 14 more to go.”

Why am I telling you this in such graphic detail? I’m getting to that. Just stay with me.

The following day, when I removed the bandages, there were only two blisters. Hopefully tomorrow there won’t be any.

I am going through some painful things to reach the desired outcome. I have been asking myself for 2 years, “Is it worth the pain I will have to go through to get where I want to be?”

I finally decided that it was.

There will be several more treatments. I will be fortunate if it is less than 5. As the doctor told me, “Each time, it’s gets easier.”

When I had wiped the mascara from my face and regained composure, I realized that I really didn’t hate the doctor and I started thinking about what I could learn from the pain.

Upkeep on our body is costly and with age comes more expense. Some of the maintenance is chosen while some is required. Whether it’s maintaining beautiful brows, hair color, muscle tone, etc., it takes work.

Why do I think that beautifying and maintaining my spiritual life will be painless and require little to no effort?

If this temporary physical shell that I’m inhabiting takes so much work, how could I ever believe that the eternal spiritual would thrive without any attention?

I call myself a follower of Christ. I try to live like he did. I fail miserably at times, but I start over and try again. I pray throughout the day, little 1-2 sentence prayers to stay in constant communication. But when was the last time I actually set aside time to meditate and have uninterrupted time with my God?

If I am plucking my eyebrows more often than spending a few intentional moments with my Savior, I am missing it.

Just as the cool antibiotic ointment soothes my laser induced burns, time spent nurturing my spiritual being is like salve to my weary soul and heavy heart.

Are you finding the time and resources for physical maintenance while allowing your spirit to starve? Or, are you the exact opposite? I would love to hear your routines and practices for not only maintaining, but thriving from the inside out.

Everything I thought I knew I no longer know

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I heard something today that broke my heart
Shook me to my core
Turned my world upside down
Made me question everything I have ever known
Evoked feelings of anger, sadness, remorse, disgust, angst

I wanted to go into the bathroom stall and puke my guts up until I felt better
Until my insides were numb
Until I made this raw, scraping feeling in the pit of my stomach go away

I knew that kind of relief is temporary and soon fleeting
I also knew that
I didn’t want to feel the way that I felt

For those of us who have been through a season of escapism
and come out on the other side
We are fully aware that the only way to remain mentally, emotionally and spiritually sound is to sit in our feelings
No matter how difficult
No matter how long it takes
Acceptance is key

I find at times that remaining physically sober is much easier than
maintaining and nurturing spiritual, mental and emotional sobriety
These are the places where the atrocities begin
sometimes long before the action ever happens

If I do not face, sort and squash things where they originate
the outcome is always one of tragedy, personal or otherwise

Thankfully, I have an incredible network of individuals who know me
The real me
The person who is broken time and time again
Flawed and scarred

Those amazing souls
Living and passed
Some whose voice I hear audibly
Others I must feel with my heart and recall in my memory

A girl like me, has to surround herself with truth
Light that dispels the darkness
Wisdom of others who have gone before me

One of my favorite speakers is Jud WIlhite
I will frequently go to iTunes and listen to past talks of his
Today was no different
I needed to be quiet and listen

There was one thing he said in this session that struck me as deeply as the painful news I had heard just hours before, only it brought hope instead of harm
It was his response to a friend who had walked through a season of darkness and at the time engaged in a lot of self-injury
Now on the other side of it, she asked him how she would one day explain the scars to her daughter.

His response was this, “All you need to do is look her in the eye and say, these scars mean one thing these scars mean that your mommy survived by the grace of God and he’s done a work of healing in my life.”

So today, right now, in this moment
I choose recovery
I choose life
I choose truth
I choose hope
I choose love
I choose grace

How could I not?!
After all, that is what has been shown to me
Over and over and over and over again

“Observe how Christ loved us. His love was not cautious but extravagant. He didn’t love in order to get something from us but to give everything of himself to us. Love like that.” Ephesians 5:1-2

If you would like to hear the message that I listened to today from Jud Wilhite click here

3 things the girl in your life needs to know

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I don’t claim to be an expert. My knowledge is based solely on experience. I feel that I am rather well versed when it comes to females. The fact that I am one and that I have raised one to teenage years gives me an inside look into the way our mind, heart and soul work. And how often times they are all tied together by an emotion.

I had the privilege of hanging out with one of my very good friend’s daughter today. She and my son are inseparable. She is the most adorable, beautiful, bright, witty child.
She keeps all three of the males in my house in line, much better than I.

I have become a sentimental sap as of late and today was spent watching this precious child, 4 years old, interact with my boys. It’s fascinating. Truly. We females are born with the same questions we are asking in our 20’s, 30’s, 40’s, 50’s, 60’s, 70’s, 80’s, 90’s, 100’s… Those are these;

Do you notice me?
Am I beautiful?
Am I special?

I could add many more to this list and so could you, but these are the overwhelming front runners when it comes to what we need.

Dads and husbands, future dads and husbands, are you listening?

We need to know that;
You notice us.
We are beautiful.
We are special to you.

This is crucial. Please don’t miss this.

Instead of saying to your daughters, wives, significant other, “That dress is so pretty!” Say, “You are so beautiful! You make that dress look so good!” It seems simple, I know. I am fully aware that we are complex creatures. Even we cannot figure out what is going on with us at times. It’s how we are wired. You will never master the female brain, but you can feed the heart and avoid emotional starvation.

Ladies, PLEASE, I beg you, encourage each other. Do not withhold a compliment out of fear of looking or sounding stupid. It may be exactly what the person needs to hear.

When you like the strangers hair in front of you in the check out line, TELL HER.
Most women will tell you that compliments from other women (especially those they don’t know) carry 10 times the weight of the same compliment from a man.

I have had 18 month old girls come up to me when they are wearing a pretty dress or new shoes and point to them while showing me. Without using words, they are asking for affirmation. “Am I beautiful?” “Do I matter?”

Let’s not miss this. Please. It is so very important. For those of you who are thinking, “We should not be focusing on outward beauty. What about their brain?” This is vital for brain development. It’s not about outward beauty. It’s about laying the foundation for a secure woman. By changing phrases like, “Oh, you look so pretty.” To, “You are so beautiful!” We are putting focus on their person and not what they look like in the moment.

Daddy’s of little girls, you carry a huge responsibility. She needs to know that she’s safe, loved (unconditionally) and accepted, by you, no matter what. Mothers of boys, we are not off the hook either. We need to be encouraging our boys to speak to the girls in their life with respect and kindness.

For those single mothers, in a state of survival, who are wondering where this leaves you, may I say that I have been in the single mother shoes. It’s hard. It’s exhausting. It’s labor intensive. It’s 24/7. You are thinking, “This is great for everyone else, but I’m just trying to put food on the table and keep the lights on.” I totally get it. Those of us who call ourselves your friends, your church, your support, need to rally around you and your precious children.

Clearly I’m very passionate about this. If you are a woman who doesn’t agree with the 3 things that I have stated above that women need to know, I want to hear from you. Like I said, I am no expert. I do, however, through years of observation, discussion and living, believe strongly in what I have said here.

Related writings, “Cinda-who? A different kind of Princess.”

Does this make me look fat?

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Ladies, why do we even ask this question? We know when we look fat. We are setting the recipient of our insecurity, up for a no win situation.

Here’s the deal, I’m tired of feeling things jiggle when I walk.
I have been bartering with myself for the last year when it comes to dropping some lbs.

It sounds something like this. I will pay closer attention to what I eat and don’t eat…
If I have to go up another pants size
If I have a roll under my bra
If I ever have a “gut”
If I’m uncomfortable naked
If one of my children ever says, “Am I having a baby brother or baby sister?

The list goes on, but that’s the gist.

Well, today was the day. I stopped making excuses. I decided to make a change. I dusted off the shake mix that I bought last year for this very reason and I made a shake as a meal replacement.

Doesn’t sound like a big deal, does it?

Well for someone who has never had a “working relationship” with food, it’s a very…big deal.

I have never thought of food in a positive way. In fact I rarely think of food at all. Which sounds funny coming from someone who is as big as she’s ever been.

For 12 years I had a condition called bulimarexia. Weird huh? I always liked being unique. I couldn’t just have your ole run-of-the-mill bulimia or anorexia, I had to have a combination of the two. I think it’s the bipolar of eating disorders.

Sometimes I would restrict for days eating a mere 165 calories and then I would switch it up by binging anywhere from 2,500-5,000 calories in one sitting and then stick my finger down my throat until there was nothing left but stomach acid. When I was feeling extra bold I would throw down a few boxes of laxatives (30-75 pills.) I still remember the way the pink candy coating tasted, especially when I would take too many and forcefully vomit.

BUT, I was skinny.

My family would say things like, “You’re killing yourself. You know that, right?”
“Well, at least I’ll die skinny.” I would say.
Talk about shallow, insecure and egotistical all wrapped into one dysfunctional package!

Without turning this post into a share at a support group and in an effort to shine light on this that I like to keep hidden, I wanted to be forthcoming about the monster within who rears its ugly head any time I consider focusing on the daily ins and outs of eating.

If I’m being completely honest, I’m scared.
Scared that I’ll fail. Scared that I’ll return to old habits that show results more quickly than doing it the right way. Scared that I have screwed up my metabolism so much that there’s no going back. Scared that I will become obsessed with the calories, portions and fat grams again.

So here, in the quiet of morning, when it’s only God and me. I ask Him to whisper His promises when I need them most. I ask for His protection from the monster within. I ask for His guidance as I walk this road to a healthier me. I ask for His grace when I am frustrated and want to quit.

This is a lifestyle that I am learning. Not a diet, or the newest craze. It’s a way to live in harmony with something that I need to sustain me.

In case you’re wondering, I gave up the eating disorders when I put down the booze. That was October 19, 2002.

Why did it take me so long to embark on this challenge to have a positive relationship with food? It’s like any other toxic relationship. I never wanted to return to the place of making an effort to control my weight.

The difference is, I don’t need alcohol to live, but I need food to survive. So, here I am…at the beginning…looking ahead, not behind. It’s going to be hard for me. The discipline to be healthy and not cut corners, will be difficult.

I’m ready. Today, I begin a new life.

If you or someone you love is struggling with an eating disorder, please, please, get help. It is serious and it wants to take your life. You can start by visiting the National Eating Disorders Association.

Cinda-who? A different kind of Princess.

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Ask any child who Cinderella is and they will most assuredly know.

When asking my 3 yr. old son if he knew who Cinderella was, he said, “Ewwwww. I don’t like Cinderella.” I would say that’s right on track with where he needs to be. Like her or not, he knows who she is.

The other day on my drive home, the song “Cinderella” by Steven Curtis Chapman came on. I have heard this song many times with goosebumps covering my arms, while envisioning a little girl standing on her daddy’s feet as he dances her around.

This time was different. The tears began streaming down my face. I literally said out loud, “What is wrong with me?! This is ridiculous! Dry it up!”

I have been thinking about it ever since. Singing the lyrics over and over in my mind. “I will dance with Cinderella, while she is here in my arms, ‘Cause I know something the prince never knew…” Each time, I feel the lump well up in my throat.

When I finally took the time to sit down and start writing, clarity was found.

How many of us aspired to be a princess? Not just any princess. THE Princess. Cinderella. Nothing sounded better than being rescued from a life of chores and mean sisters. Throw in a personal fairy godmother, a makeover, a prince, a happily ever after and most of all, being able to say, “Shove it!” to the wicked stepmother and we have ourselves a fairytale.

And then something went wrong.

It wasn’t that we had brown hair instead of blond or that we didn’t have a stepmother or stepsisters to fit the story. It was that some of us took a different path. We thought that after enjoying adventure and having more “fun” we could come back and cross the finish line of life, as a Cinderella.

I haven’t read the story of Cinderella in quite some time, but from all the times I have read it in the past, I don’t recall the part where she cusses out the bartender when he yells “last call.” Or cuts marks on her body as a painful reminder that she’s real. Or where she sticks her fingers down her throat until she pukes everything that she had just binged so that she can eat more and keep stuffing those feelings down while maintaining the illusion of control. I don’t remember where she gives herself away to those who’s name she can’t even remember? Or where she stands before the full length mirror, a skin cloaked skeleton, scrutinizing every inch of her body.

Those pages must have been missing from the book.

For many of us, they are the most prevalent. Those descriptions mark a part in our story where everything changed. Shame became a constant companion. The reflection in the mirror was unrecognizable.

The realization came that there would be no horse-drawn carriage to take us to the ball. There was no army frantically searching the land to find the foot that fit the glass slipper (our foot), while the prince pines away back at the castle awaiting the return of his true love.

“Who’s ever heard of glass shoes anyway?!”

None of us dreamed of being addicts or alcoholics, prostitutes or strippers, a teenage mother or a 20-something divorcee.

We all had similar dreams. So what happened?

Well, when I was 12…
When he…
When she…
We all have our _____________ to fill.
Our story to tell.

It doesn’t matter the details of destruction. All that matters is from today… from this moment… how the story ends.

May I paint a mental picture for you, Beautiful One?
We aren’t waiting for the prince.
There is no clock to strike midnight and strip us of our dreams.

The King Himself prepares a place for us. The Creator of the heavens, waits for us. He beckons us. He eagerly awaits eternity with us. I don’t know how your story reads up to now, but I know how it can end.

You are a Precious Treasure, Favored, Adored by the Creator of heaven and earth.
Don’t give up, Darling.
Keep going.
It is in those times of weariness that we must listen for His whisper and embrace the anticipation of one day being His bride.

There is no better “ever after.”

*Photos taken from google

Wrestling demons…

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Ever have one of those dreams that wakes you from sleep with a racing heart and rapid breathing, grasping in the darkness as if you are fighting something that isn’t there?

That is how I woke up this morning. Shaken.

Maybe that’s one of the consequences of having a past where darkness was prevalent?
OR
Maybe it’s one of the blessings?

I haven’t had one of these dreams in a long time, but when I do, a couple of things happen.

  • I am taken back to a time where I felt utterly lost and fear was my guide.
  • I reach for Chris and confirm what is real in this moment.
  • I pray.

There was a time when these sort of dreams were very disturbing to me. In attempts to gain a new perspective, I asked someone who I respect a great deal, what I should do with this feeling that tends to shadow me throughout the day?

This was her response, (as my mind remembers it anyway),

“Where it can be scary to wrestle with demons, especially those from the past, it is a good thing. It reminds us of where we have been, how far we have come and what God has done for us that we could not do for ourselves. Do not look at these dreams as a negative thing. Ask God what He wants you to do with it. Thank Him for life as you know it, today, in this moment. Thank Him for your present reality. And then live. We cannot allow fear to paralyze us when the Creator Himself has called us to life.”

I believe that.

I also believe that we are fighting against something far greater than our memory of a troubling event.

We are fighting the master of darkness.

Okay, I know, it sounds dramatic and a little hokey if you aren’t a big fan of the bible and what has been sprinkled throughout about powers unseen…good and bad.

And maybe I’m still half asleep, but I cannot help but look to God’s word in times like these and the passage that consistently comes to mind is this one; 

“And that about wraps it up. God is strong, and he wants you strong. So take everything the Master has set out for you, well-made weapons of the best materials. And put them to use so you will be able to stand up to everything the Devil throws your way. This is no afternoon athletic contest that we’ll walk away from and forget about in a couple of hours. This is for keeps, a life-or-death fight to the finish against the Devil and all his angels. Be prepared. You’re up against far more than you can handle on your own.” Ephesians 6:12 (The Message)

For those of us who grew up in church it read something like this; 

“For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.” (New International Version)

I don’t remember ever hearing this passage from a church pew.

Maybe it’s because I wasn’t always paying attention or it could because IT FREAKS PEOPLE OUT!
There are few pastors who are willing to talk about the hard things and not just focus in on the wonderful, uplifting parts of the bible or the verses that talk about giving them more money.

This is one of the many reasons why I love my church.
I could walk in today, recall that which I have said here to any one of those who I consider leaders within the church and instead of looking at me like I have 3 heads, they would guide me through it in a way that I could understand, not downplaying the reality of this spiritual realm that most of us walk around completely oblivious to.

I don’t enjoy those nights when I fall asleep and wrestle the darkness.
I am however encouraged, as it reminds me that I must exercise my spiritual muscles.
Though the battle is already won, the fight is not yet over.