When Worlds Collide

I have thought long & hard about writing this post, so here goes.

I have a total of 3 blogs, Ana's House Dressing that is about as superficial as they come (not very many posts there), 40 Year Old Bulimic that is super private, and this one. In working out my recovery I have come to a place where I feel it necessary to finally combine the three. They are beginning to overlap each other and as my fears subside, I see they are all parts of me.

The ugly one, Bulimia, makes me and alot of everybody else in the whole world, uncomfortable. It's gross, it's so very shameful, and it's obsessive even. Here's the thing though, it has been the one thing that no matter how many times I've tried to lay it down at the foot of the cross, I inevitably pick it back up, run & hide with it. I hoped I would one day grow out of it, but I'm now 41 and it's been 26 years. That's over half my life. I have lied about it like an alcoholic and in the process become such an expert in the practice of that I could teach classes on the art of skillful binging followed by creative puking.

This is who I've been. This is hard to type.

The week after the anniversary of my daughter death, I had an experience that I can only describe as the perfect storm. It is when all the parts of me finally collided with each other and the result was devastingly scary, yet there was something.

My doctor has started me on a new med that had a side effect of, well altering my tastebuds in a way. I can only describe it as I have become a very very very picky eater. The majority of food simply doesn't sound so good anymore and has about as much appeal to me as cardboard. I didn't realize this at first, so when I had experienced a highly emotionally charged arguement with my beloved

just a few days after the anniversary of Bri's death, my knee jerk, no-thought-involved-reaction was to go directly to the fridge. I didn't even pass GO or collect my $200!

So there I was staring at little chocolate lava cupcakes and regular cupcakes for pete's sake, and all I can think is "Naa, that doesn't sound good". Next the freezer, oodles of ice cream (a freakin' pleasure to throw up I might add) and again, nope. Lastly I go to the pantry and when I again strike out, I took a pain pill (as i was bawling my head off by now) grabbed a cigarette and went outside to cry. My whole world just fell apart and I was grasping at straws but finding nothing!

 I felt weird inside. The next day I was numb, I don't remember much just that something just felt out of place. I saw the marriage counselor who suggested I keep a binge log. Just a notebook to record what i feel when i....you know. Ok, whatever. Still numb, but starting to feel some anger now. This is about the time I figured out the medication was changing my tastes because pop tasted horrible to me & i so googled it. I felt a sense of betrayal, like i was stripped of my superpowers. This is what I wanted....RIGHT???

Next day I was definitely all out angry and at this point feeling something I have not felt in YEARS, self loathing. So at this point I began to deliberately plan my binges by going to the supermarket with the sole intention of buying only the stuff that sounded good to me. For 2 days I binged and purged with so much anger & self hatred that I wished i were dead. I have not thought about suicide since my daughters death, and this scared me a bit. Don't get me wrong, I know I cannot take my own life because it isn't mine to take. God is sovereign, i get it, but i wished so much that i could be dead because i hurt so bad . I have no idea how I functioned at work on Friday, maybe years of being fake?? ya think??Saturday morning I woke up and cried out to God that no matter what, I needed to get out of this pit this day and i needed His help to make it possible. This was my #1 priority for the day that morning and i wasn't going anywhere until God pulled me out, everything else was set aside. Armed with my bible, my laptop, my journal,prayers and worship music, i began to fervently seek Him and focus on Him as best i could through the fog.

I did get delivered that morning and I found relief in His peace, but the battle had just started.

Thank goodness i know the One who runs this place and how this story will end.

That was 4 weeks ago and I have been taking it one day at a time since.

No more suicidal thoughts since, no more binging anf purging, but very very vunerable, very naked very scared, but ready.

I am in the process of setting up a craft room for myself, my husband and I are reconciling with the help of a wonderful Christian counselor,(yes, it makes a tremendous difference) and i am learning to walk again.

Thanks for letting me share.