Five years ago, we were deep in a struggle… and it was a very dark and scary time. As a mother, one of your most basic instincts is to feed your child. So when she can’t or won’t eat it is devastating and overwhelming. Dealing with an eating disorder is truly fighting “a monster,” but unlike many other illnesses, it is one often battled alone.
By God’s grace, her story is one of hope and renewal. While it was most difficult, it is a time we look back at with thankfulness not only because of her healing, but because it gave us a great deal of compassion for those with battles we may not understand.
It is has been my priviledge to walk through this same struggle with other moms the way a few dear friends did for me. I’m profoundly thankful for those who walked alongside us in the darkest days and helped shoulder our tears and fears because they understood from personal experience. Their support offset comments – or worse, silence – from many that only added to our heartache. I hope that her candidly sharing her story can be an encouragment others who are struggling.
There is healing. There is hope. There is joy.
In many previous blog posts, I have alluded to it. I have used it as an example of the dangers of perfectionism, as evidence of my own prideful nature, and as a point of reference to show how I’ve grown.
The “monster,” as my journal refers to it.
The eating disorder.
It’s something I can only really recognize in foresight and hindsight.
I remember Googling “symptoms of eating disorder” or “am I anorexic” as a frightened sixteen-year-old. However, while I was frightened by my sudden aversion to the healthy-sized portions of a growing teenager and by the falling number on my bathroom scale, I was also fascinated.
There is (or, at least, was) a romance to an eating disorder. It’s wrong that this is the case and I hate to think that I was not only drawn in by it, but desired it. Being thin became part of my…
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