May 11, 2016
Tonight, as I sat down to dinner with my mom, I was faced with a choice. I know-nothing new.
Was I going to eat the peach, or was I going to restrict?
It seems like SUCH a simple question.
I’d dished up my pasta salad without measuring it minutes earlier. This is very big for me. Not measuring means inexactness. There’s room for error. Not measuring means that, God forbid, I could have dished out 1/4 cup extra by mistake. Of course, were this to happen, the world would likely end.
Anyway, I dished out the amount I was supposed to have, and looked to Mom, asking for her confirmation that it wasn’t “too much.” Instead, she told me she didn’t think it was quite enough. This is usually the way meals go for us. I ask her if it’s more than I need, hoping to persuade her that I actually have a lot on my plate, and she says, “No, Bridgette-that’s not as much as you have on your meal plan.” So, the usual routine took place. I didn’t argue, and didn’t even pull out the measuring cup-which is what I normally do when there’s any sort of discrepancy. I simply added a bit more pasta.
It left me feeling very uneasy.
I was also supposed to have some fruit with my pasta. Given the anxiety I was already having about the entree, I decided that I could do without the fruit.
How thoughtful of me.
Mom and I ate our dinner (which was very good, by the way-and I made it!) and played Sequence per usual, and then she went out to do some work in the yard while I finished up and did the dishes. And then I looked at my meal plan on the island.
Yup, the fruit was still on there.
I just did not know what to do. It would be SO easy to skip it. Mom hadn’t caught it yet, so who knows? Maybe she wouldn’t even notice it. It’s not like it’s even that big of a deal anyway…it’s just a cup of fruit.
But as far as eating disorders go, it’s the little things that are the most significant. It always starts out as something small.
First, the fruit at dinner.
Then, the fruit at my afternoon snack.
Then, afternoon snack completely.
Soon, morning and evening snacks are gone, too.
And so on and so forth; I trust you get the point.
Just like how it goes from one pound lost, to two, to five, to ten, and so on and so forth.
It’s a slippery slope when you’re dealing with an eating disorder. Nothing is ever enough.
So, you know what I did?
I went into my bedroom, leaving the lights off, and I laid down on my bed and prayed.
I prayed for wisdom, and I asked God to let his voice be louder than the voice of the E.D.
When I’d finished praying, I felt a word on my heart.
I’ve prayed over this word for my life a lot. It was my “theme word” in my bible study last year.
I like the word for many reasons, a big one being that it’s so versatile to fit so many different areas of my life.
I want to be OBEDIENT to Jesus.
I want to be OBEDIENT to my parents.
I want to be OBEDIENT to my treatment team and my recovery…
but, it’s a lot harder than it sounds! It’s easier to be obedient when the things you’re being told to do are easy for you.
Normally, the incentive of moving back to Corvallis in June is enough to get me to make the “right”, recovery-oriented choice. I was having a particularly hard time in this situation though, because it didn’t seem like a very big deal. It was a serving of fruit! A mere 60 calories. It wasn’t enough to actually do anything to my weight.
But the word “Obedience” brought me back to where I needed to be. If I was going to be obedient to God, then that meant being obedient to my treatment team, and doing everything that they deemed necessary for my recovery. Which included eating that one exchange of fruit.
So I got up from my bed, walked back into the kitchen, and I ate the darn peach.