The Ugliness of an Eating Disorder

There she stood in the nurse's office looking pencil-thin.  Her pants were cinched together with safety pins and her shirt hung ever so loosely on her way-to-skinny frame.  One of our school's varsity cheerleaders, the girl hadn't been physically well enough to cheer for much of the basketball season.  In the nurse's office for a sore throat I wondered,  "Why is she so thin?!  Is she sick, or dying?"  She reminded me of the Jewish concentration camp prisoners of World War II that I'd seen in our history books and magazines.

Later I learned that this very popular, pretty and vivacious teen suffered from anorexia nervosa.  It was the first time I'd heard of this illness.  The year was 1975.  I later heard that she had died in her late 20's from complications associated with anorexia nervosa

Life can be so complicated.  Many of us fall prey to the trappings of not feeling "good enough".  We feel ugly compared to others.  We are dissatisfied with our grades in school.  Perhaps we've been hurt deeply by someone and just can't seem to recover from the pain.  Sometimes we feel as though we have absolutely no control in life.  Because there seems to be so much chaos inside and around us, we begin to try to control those parts of our lives that are controllable.  Regardless of the reasons, most of us who have or do suffer from eating disorders seem to struggle with our identities ~ as though controlling what we eat, or don't eat, can erase the imperfections within.

For me, it began with a single desire ~ to lose weight.  I'd gained ten pounds my junior year in high school and wanted to lose it.  I felt fat.  So I cut my calorie intake to just 1000 calories a day and I stuck religiously to my diet for a number of weeks.  Often I ate just cottage cheese, Melba toast and Nestles Breakfast Bars for days on end.   Thrilled to see weight loss, I began to incorporate exercise into my day to help lose even more weight.  Soon I was riding my exercise bicycle at breakneck speed for an hour or more everyday! Mostly I listened to music while I biked, but sometimes I watched TV.  It was fun to exercise while mentally tuning into something other than myself.  I wasn't really sure from what I was running, but I clearly recognized that diversion was helping the chaos inside my head to ebb.

People began to notice my weight loss.  I'd hear comments like "you're looking good" and "what's your secret to losing weight" which only fueled my continued obsession with looking perfect.  The strange thing was how my mirrored reflection lied to me, although I didn't know it at the time.  When I looked in the mirror I only saw the little bit of fat on my upper thighs or hips.  Unbelievably, I still considered myself  overweight and kept close track of my weight loss.

     What many people don't realize is that there are several different types of eating disorders.  They are:

• Anorexia Nervosa - undereating to maintain an extremely low body weight
• Binge Eating - recurrent binge eating
• Bulimia Nervosa - recurrent binge eating and purging
• Overweight - compulsive over-eating
• Eating Disorder Otherwise Unspecified - symptoms do not meet the criteria for anorexia nervosa or bulimia nervosa, but are evidenced in atypical eating behaviors and/or exercise

I suffered from, first, anorexia, then, bulimia nervosa, for several years.  It was an ugly time in my life. Much of my energy was spend trying to hide my obsessions from others, including my family.  My life looked fairly normal from the outside, but my thoughts and emotions were in constant turmoil.  Out of the chaos spilled great shame, pain and anger.  Deep inside I wanted to overcome my eating disorder, but I seemed powerless to stop.  

One day I left my waitress job feeling particularly frustrated and sad.  With great weariness I drove to the nearest Dunkin' Donuts to swallow my anxieties and sadness down with the help of two or three donuts.  At this point I was so very exhausted from living a life around my compulsions. Tears ran down my cheeks as I slowly ate my treasures. "I am really tired of living like this," I remember thinking.  It was as if a light bulb of reality went off in my head and I resolved to think through this new and perfectly normal thought.

I began to learn more about eating disorders from reading library books and articles.  I entered counseling to find out more about my illness.  What I learned wasn't easy to swallow (pardon the pun), but I pressed on for the truth.  Ever so slowly I began to learn how low self-esteem and self-worth had driven my desire for perfection.  In my quest for self-acceptance I'd somehow mistook the lies for the truth.  The lie was that I would never be good enough, pretty enough or smart enough.  The lie was that I would never feel true peace within my soul. The lie was that I would always wrestle with an eating disorder ...

Ultimately the Truth set me free.  It took time and much soul-searching, but I began to learn that I was never going to be perfect and that it was okay.  I learned where/when my feelings of insecurity and self-hate probably originated from and how the lies had slowly taken center stage in my life.  Through counseling I learned new coping strategies for life.

In time I lost interest in controlling my eating disorder and I watched its destructiveness slowly dissolve into nothingness.   I still watch my weight carefully, but now face each day with the Truth and a willingness to walk forward in life with courage.  For those of you who struggle with an eating disorder or/ simply have issues with your weight, I would recommend that you:

•      Seek the services of a competent counselor who specializes in eating                     disorders/ issues;
•      Seek a health community of others who have wrestled with similar issues;           and
•      Sincerely seek God for peace and restoration.

The truth is that an eating disorder does not have to rule your life forever.  The truth is very real.  We are God's wondrous creations whom He faithfully loves ~ despite our imperfections and flaws.

"I appeal to you, Brothers, by the mercy of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.  Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind that by testing you may discern what is the will of God,... what is good, acceptable and perfect."  Romans 12: 1-2

My dear friend, God accepts and loves you just as you are.  I should know.  I am so far from perfect, yet God loves me despite my insecurities and fears to the contrary.  He is faithful, even when we're not.
I choose to embrace the beauty, instead of the ugly, inside of me.  So can you.

   

   
   

Breakdown in the Bayou

     After a week of fun in the sun, a friend and I were driving home from the beautiful, emerald gulf coast of Florida.  We wanted a bold adventure and thought traveling through the Louisiana bayou would add excitement to our travels.  It was July 1983.  We drove endlessly along Highway 10 towards our destination, New Orleans.  

It was nightfall before we reached the borders of Mississippi and Louisiana and the temperature was well above 100 degrees.  The star-studded sky was without cloud and a full yellow moon hung low in the east.  Soon, we were driving at break-neck speed along a long stretch of highway over the swamps of the Louisiana bayou.  I remember wondering if there were large numbers of crocodiles living in the waters below.  It was sort of spooky along this highway.

     I was driving my not-quite-a-year-old Pontiac T-1000. So far my little car had been driving well, but on this lonely stretch of highway, I noticed that the air conditioner wasn't spitting cold air anymore.  It was an ominous sign for worse to come.

     At some point I passed a white sedan.  Soon their headlights could no longer be seen as I raced at least 15 miles over the speed limit.   Perhaps 30 minutes later my car began to sputter and lose speed.  My heart began to race as my little T-1000 slowly ground to a stop. None of the outside nor dashboard lights were working.  Despite a full tank of gas, my car had surely died along this stretch of gator-country!  Now I was scared.

     Panic rising in my heart, I thought of all sorts of dangers that could befall my friend and I ... out here ... on a deserted stretch of Louisiana highway ... with the crocodile-infested swamp waters lurking below.  We sat in stunned silence for a minute or two, then briefly discussed how best to deal with this current situation.  We sat there for about 15 minutes ... alone ... in the dark ... without air conditioning ....  

     I glanced in the rear view mirror as two headlights appeared from behind us.  "This could be good, or this could be very bad,"  I thought to myself.  (Remember, this was before people had cell phones, and I'm not sure anyone would've had cell phone coverage in this sparsely populated region, anyway.)  The car pulled up behind us and a tall, male stranger got out of the driver's side.  It was the white sedan I'd passed earlier.

     Windows up.  Car doors locked.  I turned my head to peer at the stranger as he slowly walked up to my side of the car.  He flashed his flashlight beam into the interior of our car, sweeping first the back seats, then the front seats.  The man held up what appeared to be a badge.  I scrutinized the badge closely before deciding, yep, this was a legitimate policeman with a baton, side-arm and honest to goodness police badge.  The white sedan was an unmarked police car!  Oh my gosh, I was so relieved to see a policeman instead of someone else.

     After assessing the situation, this kind policeman towed my car with chains for 20 or more miles to the closest gas station.  I was told that it would cost about $200, which was a lot of money at that time, to fix my car.  I had no choice but to wait for the repair, then continue towards home.

     The very week, I bought a new car.

     One thing I knew without a doubt was that the policeman was at the right place at just the right time and I could then, and now, clearly see the hand of God at work as He orchestrated our rescue.  Not one to believe in coincidences, I believe that God placed the policeman on the same highway that night so that we could be pulled to safety.  

    

     

     

High Ropes Adventure

There I stood about 30 feet up from the ground!  My weary arms encircled a massive tree trunk.  Sweat trickled down my forehead, but I dared not let go of the tree to wipe the salty sweat from my eyes.  "I'm safe," I kept telling myself.  "Just stay here for awhile," I cried inwardly.  Below I could hear others shout words of encouragement,  "You're doing great, Kathy!  Keep going!  Don't look down!"  My youngest daughter shouted,  "Mommy, you can do it!"  

My nervous stomach bubbled at the sight of my friends standing so far below on the ground.  I wondered how in the world I was going to be able to maneuver through the rest of this course!  Steeling myself for the next section of ropes, I glanced at my helper and guide, Tim.  Staring deeply into his eyes, I muttered,  "Let's go.  I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."  This was my mantra for the duration of the ropes course.  With resolve I let go of one hand, then the other, to reach for my next grip of strong, cable rope. Tim smiled and gently admonished,  "You can do it, Kathy.  And when you finish this course, you will have learned much.  Come on.  You can do it.  Just look into my eyes and put one front in front of the other ..." Slowly and carefully I began walking across one cable of rope with two stabilizing ropes to hold onto.  When I reached the end of this section, I breathed a sigh of relief and once again, held on for dear life to another massive tree trunk.  "I'm safe now,"  I muttered to no one in particular.

At Camp Barnabas there is a high ropes course that many of the campers enjoy tackling.  Even those with special needs are able to walk through this course ~ with assistance as needed.  The point is that most of the campers are able to journey through the ropes course in about 25 to 30 minutes.  Each climber is securely attached to a pulley system that prevents them from falling to the ground.  We are all secure because this course has so many checks and precautions.  But when you're high in the trees it's a little more complicated. The climbers are safe and secure, but the mind battles the reality of standing so high off the ground.  For me, my fear of heights developed later in life, but I was determined to overcome my fear by walking through the entire course.

Two grueling hours after beginning my first climb, I was finally at the end of this ropes course. I was so glad to be almost done.  Tim instructed me to sit down on a small platform-like swing and to let my legs dangle. "We're going to count to three, Kathy.  Hang on tight and enjoy the swing ... one, two, three! ..."  My stomach did a flip-flop as I barreled in an arc across the sky.  Holding my eyes tightly shut, I felt the cool breeze whip across my face.  I heard Rebekah's little girl voice called up to me,  "Open your eyes, Mommy!  See how high you're flying!"  

With her encouragement I opened my eyes to behold a beautiful sight.  Silently I glided up, then down, flying just below and up to tree branches, then backward.  My swing slowly brought me closer and closer to my friends on the ground.  Cheers were said by all, ...I thanked Tim for walking the course with me, then I was left alone to contemplate my grueling, yet strangely satisfying, encounter in the trees.

Someone snapped a picture of me walking the ropes in the trees.  I'm smiling!

 I learned many lessons that afternoon:

*  Life can be difficult and scary, but taking one-step-at-a-time helps it not be so scary.
*  God provides rest stops along the way for rest and, for our enjoyment.
*  When we are able to walk through the challenges of life, we can feel a sense of accomplishment.
*  God may allow us to fall, but only for so far.   
*  Some segments of life are more challenging than others. 
*  God often provides unexpected moments of joy to help us along our way.

Lady In Waiting

"Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage.  Yes, wait for the Lord." 
 Psalm 27: 14.         

 "Please, dear God!  Please let my boy friend love me as I love him!" I petitioned God one night.  With silent tears streaming down my cheeks I cried, "Let us be together always!"  The year was 1976 and I lay in my shared dorm room at K.U. (Kansas, that is.) flipping through my bible looking for verses of promise and hope.  Most recently I'd been re-baptized and was trying to understand the Christian way of life.  So far I was seeking answers to help bolster my own agenda.   I found one from the book of John, verse 14:  "If you ask anything in my name, I will do it."  I clung to this bible verse asking God to give me the desires of my heart.

      Our relationship was doomed.   I soon found out that this current boyfriend had another girlfriend back home, and I had been a happy diversion for a brief few months of time.  My heart was broken, not only by the break-up of this relationship, but also with what I presumed was God's broken promise (as uttered by Jesus' disciple, John, no less.).  "I thought you would give me the desires of my heart, God.  Why wouldn't you let us stay together!? I asked in Your name!?"  Weren't those the magic words to utter when asking God for something special!?

    As in the past I turned to escape from the pains of this world with continued abuse of alcohol and free-style living.  I fled from God, too.  His way was just too painful for me to bear.  I wanted my own way, not His way.  Waiting wasn't an option!  My heart was bruised and in great anguish from rejection, hurt and humiliation.  In desperation I finished my year at K.U. in a haze of partying, then, abruptly transferred to a small university in southwestern Missouri.

     For the next ten years I dated a string of young men who would never seem to really love me for me.  Deep in my heart I grew afraid that maybe I wasn't truly lovable, and perhaps,  would never find someone who would love me unconditionally.  My varied boyfriends were lots of fun, but curiously, most were just as mixed-up as I was.  We sought to find truth in this world through a host of other sources that didn't include God.  We had lots of fun together, but had no destination in mind as far as I could tell.

     Finally, the day came when I simply gave-up on my desire to find the perfect mate.  I remember clearly watching my then-boyfriend leave for his homeland of Iran, knowing in my heart that we would never meet, again.  As I turned and walked from the airport to my car I began to forge a new identity.   The process was slow and rather tedious, but over the next several months, I gradually began to think of myself as a valuable human being who was capable to offering something of value to others in this world.  I stood a little straighter and began to make plans for a future ~ with or without someone to share it with.

     My plans were to finish nursing school, which I did, and work for a year in Kansas City.  Then I intended to join the United States Navy as an officer.  What better way to see the world, I reasoned, than by gliding along the ocean seas in a Navy destroyer!?  Oh, what dreams I entertained.  Visions of extending comfort and care to injured soldiers and rest-filled days off lying in the sun on some distant sandy shore offered a sense of excitement and authenticity to me.

     I had begun to allow God just a little bit more into my life, too.  "Please, God, help me to move forward. Help me to be a good person doing good works for those in need.  And if perchance I ever meet a man ...," I prayed one night.  The process of healing had begun.

     Soon thereafter I met Rick ~ my soul mate who loves me unconditionally.  It was a very long wait ~ or so it seemed to me.  While most of my friends were already married, I was one of the last in my group of friends to do so.  In the end, God's best turned out to be my best.  My long wait for a soul mate was finally over.

Sibling Storm

"A friend is one that knows you are you are, understands where you have been, accepts what you have become, and still, gently allows you to grow."  ~~ William Shakespeare

     It started over a pair of earrings!  "Will you please help me change earrings, Kathy?" asked my younger sister, Judy.  Sitting in her yellow bedroom in front of her make-up mirror, Judy was struggling to change her earrings. They were tender, having been pierced just a few weeks previously.  "I can't get this one out!" she moaned.  Judy was being extra special careful because she'd been wrestling with an infection immediately after her piercing.

     "Oh, let me see!" Irritated and frustrated that my little sister had dared to interrupt my busy plans, I waltzed into her bedroom.  As an older sister I wasn't always very compassionate or loving to Judy.  This was one of those times.  After looking at her earrings I took hold of one of them and yanked hard.  Upon closer inspection I realized that this pair of earrings was mine, no less.  Angry words tumbled from my mouth as I let my sister know unconditionally that my things were never to be touched.  "Never!  Never!  Never!" I spat venomously!

     Just 23 months apart, I used my elevated status as Older Sister to my advantage throughout our childhood.  Until this point Judy had been just a pesky little sister.  She and I didn't play much together as we had separate friends.  Unless Mom asked me to let Judy tag along, I usually forbad her from playing with my friends and I.  Oh, sure, I loved her.  But we were two years apart and had ferocious sibling rivalry.  And at this point in our lives, I was Queen Bee around the Taral house.  Perhaps 15 years old at the time, I thought I was pretty cool and considered myself years ahead of my 13-year-old  little sister!

     After a minute or so of verbal exchange Judy had finally had enough of my self-centered behavior!  She launched out of her chair and began defending herself.  "You told me I could wear them!  I didn't steal them from you!"  Pretty soon our verbal exchanges moved into pushing, ... then scratching, ... then kicking!  We were really at it when suddenly the doorbell rang.  Both of us ran for the front door to open it, and as Judy placed her hand on the knob to throw open the door, I snatched the back of her hair and tugged backwards ~~ hard.  Standing on our front doorstep with an expression of horror was our neighborhood Fuller-Brush Man.  We pushed our way through the front door and landed ourselves in the front lawn ~~ still kicking and pushing one another!  Further adding to the ruckus was the arrival of our parents whose expressions of surprise and total shock were registered as they slowed down to turn into our driveway!  My mother's expression was priceless and I can still remember her open mouth and stark terror-filled eyes as she took in the scene:  One Fuller-Brush Man at the doorstep, attache in hand, while two teenage daughters battled ferociously in the front yard under the canopy of two tall oak trees!  Suddenly the wind flew out of both Judy and I.  Ashamed, we both trudged back into the house.

     I don't remember what happened after that incident.  My sister and I had one more physical fight in college, then no more.  Although our disagreements and episodic bursts of anger never achieved quite the status as this one, we did battle from time to time.  But we also forged a tie that is strong even today.  I know enough about relationships to know that sometimes there are misunderstandings and even break-ups.  But I think that our tussles are what helps relationships grow strong, too.  When friends and family can work through differences, yes, even angry episodes, then we're giving permission for the other to learn from their mistakes.  Through the years I have learned many things from the relationship I have with my sister, but the one thing I have learned is that she loves me unconditionally despite myself and visa versa.  And because we love unconditionally, we both better understand how solid relationships and friendships are to work.  We are able to talk through our differences.  Although it isn't always easy we have learned that talking through our misunderstandings is essential for maintaining our respect and support for one another.  

      I wish I had been a little more tolerant of my younger sister in our formative years.  She's really a lot of fun and has a wicked sense of humor!  We might have shared some really fun times together ...