Eating Disorder Awareness Week

It's a pretty important week!

It is National Eating Disorder Awareness Week.

As you know, I had an eating disorder.

The proper way, as an addict, to say it is that I HAVE an eating disorder.

I was hospitalized in 2010.

I weighed 103 pounds.

I was not well.

At all.

In fact, at the point that I was admitted to the hospital, my mast cells were eating each other.

I was very sick.

These pictures make me look like I had it all under control, don't they?

That is part of addiction, isn't it?

To make it all look like it's under control on the outside, when on the inside you are dying - physically or emotionally or spiritually or all of the above.

And, I was.

From the time I was VERY young, my weight was a topic of conversation.

And, not just from strangers - although they chimed in as well.

From family.

I was "too chubby."

"Cute clothes at the department stores were hard to find for my size."

"Boys would like me better if I trimmed down a bit."

I needed to "watch what I ate."

I needed to be "more active."

I was a child.

A little girl.

And, a little girl who had other issues as well.

It was a terrible double whammy for me.

As I got older and began to notice that boys who I wanted to have like me didn't like me, I became more and more aware of my looks: my weight, my height, my clothes, my hair, etc.

After I had four babies in four years, I was exhausted.

My body was, in many ways, beyond repair.

I was stressed out to the enth degree.

I was depressed.

I was in a bad place.

I stopped eating.

The ironic part here is that I didn't stop eating to lose weight.

I stopped eating because I am a stress non-eater.

I stopped eating because I was too busy, too tired, too worried about my own kids.

Then, I didn't have money to feed all of us.

So, I made sure they were fed and ate less.

It all made sense in my head, but it was terrible for my body.

When I was admitted, I was told that I would not be discharged until I was at 120 pounds.

They chose my food and the times I would eat.

It was FAR too much for a girl who hadn't been eating for a minute!

However, I got up to 120 pounds and was discharged.

And, although there have been times when I have fluctuated 5 pounds up or down, I have remained steady.

I have become much more aware of my eating.

Now I eat to feel good.

If I want ice cream, Mama is going to eat some ice cream!

I have found that bread, rice, potatoes, grapes... they don't make my belly feel too good.

So, I try not to eat them.

I have found that intermittent fasting helps my gut.

I have found that I love to work out to feel strong and healthy - not to be skinny.

Just a few months ago, I looked in the mirror and decided that I was immensely grateful for my body-

The cellulite (of which I have a lot), the stretch marks, the tiny boobs, the big booty and hips, the scars, the bumps, the dark spots...

I am SO grateful for this body, which brought four perfect boys to me.

I am SO grateful for this body that has healed from oh, so much.

It wasn't always like that.

That makes me even more grateful.

Now, for those who are struggling with any addiction that is related to food or body image in any way:

There IS help.

There are 12-step programs specifically for you.

There are therapists who are meant for you.

There is hope.

There is the ability to recover.

It is not simple.

It is not super speedy.

But, it's real.

And it will release you from the bonds of addiction.

You are not alone.

You are seen.

You are loved.

You are worthy of hope.