Let’s start with some humor before the serious, shall we?
Funny, no? Relatable, yes? How about this one?
I’m a wreck over that video. Over the fact that it’s just so true. Over the simplicity of it. And over it’s honesty. I am that video and my husband is not the one who has done the proverbial “let himself go.” It’s me. If I needed proof K gave it to me the other night when she pointed at my stomach and said “Hey, you’re really big right there. It looks like you have a baby in your tummy again.” I am not pregnant and informed her as such. We also took the opportunity for her to ask for forgiveness because she hurt my feelings. It was also a chance for her to learn that some things you just don’t say. Even if they’re true. We lack tact in this family and, as Chris puts it, instead of seasoning his words with salt as he should, he just leaves his seasoning duties in the kitchen.
The relocation of our family has created much chaos. There’s no schedule, no roots, no friends. We eat out at least once, and sometimes several, times a day because the kitchen capabilities are minimal until we get a home. Those hidden calories from restaurants have destroyed my waistline-but, if I’m being honest-I haven’t really cared. I’ve been so overwhelmed with what’s happening to my pretty little world that the comfort of chips and sundaes has been a band aid on a gaping wound.
And has been for the past 19 years.
Well, oscillating between over and under eating. There’s no healthy lifestyle just binge or over-restrict. Over eat or don’t eat at all. Such a crap place to be.
I came to Chris about this in a highly emotional moment a few weeks ago and basically laid it out like this: ” I know I’ve gained weight. It makes me sad. But not sad enough to fix it.” What a terrible, lazy, horrible statement. Honest, but very aware that I’m so deep in a mess that no step forward could even register to me as progress. Thankfully I have an accountability buddy who I text and let her know that the urge to stress/bored/happy/excited/sad eat is strong. I still go for the empty calories but feel a bit better about it knowing I’ve at least reached out. I validate my addictions. I validate the fact that I substitute carbohydrates for intimacy with the Lord. I would rather spend time at a restaurant then engaging with much of anyone.
I have stewarded my body poorly. I have created a horrific lifestyle that translates into “deserving” desserts and does nothing but show my children that this type of behavior is normal, OK, and even encouraged.Food as a coping mechanism may not show it’s effects as quickly as if I were turning to alcohol (and trust me if I drank as much as I ate we’d be in some serious trouble.) It’s more socially acceptable. Everyone eats. You need to eat. Have to. But the relationship, the obsession, is, frankly, just so sad.
This is such a sad position to be in. One that no one has put me in so I can’t lean on my usual tactics and project blame elsewhere. I certainly can’t sue Nabisco for making delicious processed foods, not that I would anyway. There’s such a level of deep, deep embarrassment that strongly rooted from years of bullying in my adolescence that keeps me in various aspects of my life as a 11 year old little girl. Realizing that I own a home, have children, and am otherwise an adult just doesn’t connect with me. The twisted relationship with food goes so deep that even beginning to chip away at the root, to give it all to God, and to see healing and growth is grossly overwhelming. The time and energy it would take to unravel and unpack nearly 20 years of a habit makes my head spin. This is far too serious.
So here’s the cycle of insanity, doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result. What makes it all so different is realizing that my choices are simple: they’re sin. I’m using food as a substitute for Christ. In ignoring the prompts for change and continuing with a comfortable (but is it really?!) lifestyle I hinder the Lord’s work within me. I remain a functioning member of society who merely goes along without thriving. I choose disobedience. An active pushing away of the One I love just because I don’t even know where to begin. I show over and over again that I don’t even comprehend the Gospel because I put all the pressure on myself to do it all-leaving no room for Christ to work within me. This is a difficult season-one of pruning and sanctifying that I knew was coming, I was just ill prepared for the work. Ill prepared for the deep heart change that needed to happen. And, ultimately, ill prepared to obey.
Maybe today when I’m happy and I know it I won’t eat Blue Bell. And tonight when I’m bored and I know it I won’t have chips. Perhaps when I’m content and I know it I’ll have rest.