In Loving Memory of my Dear Recovery-Buddy

Last Friday my sweet guinea pig Smarty passed away. To some people it may seem odd that it hurts me so much that she died. And that’s okay, not everyone needs to understand. This blog is not me trying to justify my emotions or explaining myself to people who just won’t get it. It’s me wanting to write about the special place this little creature had in my life. It’s me honoring who she was and trying to draw from the confidence she gave me.

The story of this sweet little animal begins Springtime 2009. At the time i was inpatient because of my out-of-control eating disorder & undiagnosed depression. Being inpatient was hard on me and i clang to something to keep me motivated. One day when our group was having an outing to IKEA to buy some new items for the treatment center, i saw this cute stuffed animal. It was a guinea pig. i bought it as a “buddy” to comfort me whenever i was having a hard time. That very day at the IKEA i decided when i was returning home i really really wanted to have my own guinea pig to look after and care for.

Well, i wish i could tell you this all helped me find the strength i needed to recover completely and return home for once and for all to live happily ever after with my guinea piggy. That was not the case. After that IKEA day i spent another year and several months in different inpatient facilities. But… i never forgot about my plans and when i finally got discharged and went home July 2010 one of the first things i did was going to the pet store and buy my sweetheart Smarty. She was so tiny and cute as you can see in these pics:

i was in love with her.

Smarty really came to the rescue. She really helped me because she loved me just as i was. She didn’t care about all my problems, she didn’t care about my weight or my scars. She just appreciated my care for her and she always was in a good mood! Yes, i can’t think of a moment she was grumpy or angry with me (except for when i had to clip her nails… that was something she didn’t really enjoy).

Smarty was my recovery-buddy.

She helped me when i was feeling sad, lonely, anxious, hopeless, useless, worthless.

Cuddling with her helped me feel better. Watching her walk around and explore the room made my day brighter. She was a smart little one (her name really suited her :p) and i enjoyed being amazed by her talent for counting (she knew how much apple slices i usually gave her) and telling time (she knew when it was time for my breakfast, lunch or fruity snacks). 

 

As i have continued to struggle with my eating disorder over the past years, it really helped me that Smarty was there to eat with me. It helped to give her some of my cucumber or carrot or apple et cetera, whenever it was time for me to stick to my meal plan. It was fun sharing with her and seeing her enjoy her food helped me normalize the concept of eating. She taught me that eating was good and normal and she gave me a reason to fight. After all, who could leave such a smart & cute sweetheart behind?

Yes, Smarty was my brave recovery-buddy. She made my life a brighter place. She was one of the brightest little sparks in my over-all darkness.

She could not prevent me from several hospitalizations. She could not prevent me from some major relapses. That isn’t because she was not amazing. That’s not because she wasn’t perfect. Smarty was amazing. And i tend to say she was perfect. (i’m allowed to be a little biased here, am i? :p) It simply is because my mental illnesses were too real and too stubborn and no one could have prevented those relapses.

But the amazing thing about Smarty is that she was always there for me during those difficult times. She was always waiting for me when i got back from the hospitalizations. And she never judged. She never forgot about me. The moment i walked into the room again –no matter how long i’d been away for– she always recognized my footsteps, my voice, and she knew when to ask her ‘mommy’ for some delicious foods.

She helped me settle in when i was moving out of my parent’s place and started the adventure of living on my own (with my recovery-buddy of course!). She prevented me from getting lonely. She always was waiting for me when i got home. She made home home.

Smarty almost got to be 6,5 years old.

It’s only been a couple of days but i miss her a lot.

Eating isn’t the same without her. Without my recovery-buddy to eat along with me and tell me that it’s okay for me to eat. Without her telling me she wants more. Without her correcting me if i gave her one slice of apple less. Without her funny, smart and curious look. Without her playful interactions with the cat. She was fearless. She was beautiful. She was kind and strong and smart. She was loving and caring. She was amazing. She was all those things i wanted to be, too. And she was mine.

i love her. my Smarty. my Furry Friend. my Recovery-Buddy.

i miss her.

2^nd May 2010 ~ 23^rd September 2016

my dearest Smarty, i will try to look after myself as i would have cared for you. Until one sweet day we will meet again and you can show me around in the beautiful fields of Heaven.

Voices

As i was studying in the Word last week, i felt like there was something that just “clicked” in my mind. i had been pondering some things and struggled to see how i should go about it. What did the Lord want me to do? Was He speaking to me? Asking me to change my ways? Or was it just Satan filling my mind with doubts and obsessions? i did not know.

But then i felt like Someone was calling me back to the basics. As if the Lord Himself was speaking to me, asking me “What do you know about Me?”. And i started writing some things down that helped me see clearer and clearer. And i thought it may be worth sharing, so here it goes.

Some questions to ask yourself to determine if it’s God or Satan speaking:

• Does it lift you up or tear you down?

• Does it encourage or discourage you?

• Do you feel energized or pressed down into a corner?

• Is the tone of voice gentle, loving & caring, or more of the bullying type?

• Does it sound like a gentle nudge in the right direction? Or is it more the “if you won’t do it, i will hate you” kind of pressure?

Remember, God always has your best interest at heart. When He is trying to tell you something, when He is asking you to change something or to do/not do something, He will always surround you with His amazing love and powerful grace.

He won’t bully you into it. He will let the ultimate choice be yours and is willing to help you obey Him.

He will keep reminding you of His will and He will use different resources to help you see His will: the Word, the Spirit, other people – to name a few.

And i’m saying this as much to you as to myself:

Don’t let Satan bully you into something by tearing you down, discouraging you, pressuring you with unkind words.

God won’t ever call you names. If He wants you to change your ways, He will say so, gently. Yes, He may be speaking firmly, but He will always, always be surrounding you with His everlasting, all-powerful love and mercy!

(and yes, i know this takes practice and i’m nowhere near where i want to be. But hey, life is about learning, falling and getting up again, right?)

i may not be where i want to be, but thank God i am not where i used to be

*On my way*

Mentally Blind

“Why can’t you see that?”

“i hope one day you will see yourself the way i do see you”

Just some phrases people have said to me, numerous times.

“Do you really not know how … (something positive) you are?”

Uhm no. i can tell you really mean it when you say something positive about me.

i can tell you sometimes would want to grab and shake me until i see the same things as you do.

But i’m sorry to tell you i simply don’t see what you see when you are complimenting me on something, thanking me for something. And i’m not sure i ever will.

You know after years and years and countless hours of therapy to try and fix me up, trying to change my thought patterns, strengthen my self-esteem and gain more confidence, i still can’t see it. Truth be told, even my therapists are doubting i will ever be able to see the positive character traits other people see in me.

They are not doubting my ability to reflect on myself, but they are finally realizing that i’ve put all my effort in trying to change my self-image without any result.

To be honest, i always felt like everyone around me was blind. Like they were crazy for thinking that maybe sometimes i can be nice or do the right thing. But yeah, maybe i was too prideful and scared to admit that maybe there was something i could not see. But that i do not see it, doesn’t mean it can’t be there. And to say that all those people were completely wrong in their judgment of me – i don’t want to be so prideful and stubborn. So maybe in this situation i just need to admit that i’m in the minority and need to face up to the possibility that maybe other people have a point too. Maybe there is more to me than all those ugliness, stupidity and craziness i see.

So, if other people are right and i’m wrong, it looks like i’m mentally blind or something. It’s like i have no vision when it comes to me having positive character traits. i can only see all those things i am not, all that i can’t do and my brain only sees the mistakes i make, the things i fall short.

So no, i’m not asking you to compliment me again or more often. Or to repeat your thank you. i know you mean well but when i’m really honest, it always kinda freaks me out when people say something positive about me. It leaves me frustrated and feeling alone in my self-hate. Sometimes i just really long to meet someone who hates me too, for then i wouldn’t feel so lonely.  But then again, i guess people with a visual impairment feel kind of lonely in their visual darkness, too.

And now i’m wondering, wouldn’t it make sense that all those therapies and people trying to convince me otherwise – that it all just doesn’t sink in, if yes, of course i can hear them say all those things, but due to my mental blindness can not see or feel it?

It’s like trying to let a blind person see a sunset by describing the colors of the sun. If you’ve never been able to see something, how’d you know what colors are? How would you make a picture of it in your mind?

 i’m wondering when this mental blindness started. Was i born with it? Does my mental blindness have anything to do with the cancerous tumor of negative thoughts, feelings and memories i have due to negative situations? The hurtful things that people have said/done towards me early in life? i don’t know. Do i need to know when this blindness started, how it developed? Do i need to keep overanalyzing my negative thoughts, feelings and memories in the hope that there will somehow be a cure for my mental blindness in there?

Or do i need to face the fact that i’m mentally blind. That i simply can’t see myself the same way other people see me. Do i need to realize that it’s okay and start to find a way to live with this?

Do i need to try a bit harder and look and look again for something i simply just can’t see?

Or do i need to learn how to find my way through life knowing that i can not see everything the same way other people do? Are there “mental canes” i could learn how to use to walk through life? Is there some sort of a “mental Braille” that would help me communicate with people even though we won’t be able to show each other the mental image we both are having of me?

There’s so many questions left. But for now it feels freeing to know that maybe i’m not stupid for not seeing what other people can see. And i feel like i finally can face up to the possibility that maybe i won’t be able to agree with other people about who i am and what i can do. Maybe this mental blindness is some of the things that make me me. And it’s weird to say that, but maybe this is the very first thing i feel like i can accept about myself.

In its time

As i’m writing this i have just had a look at my clock to see what time it is.

And yet, i’m not sure what time it is. That’s what i want to figure out with this blogpost.

In Ecclesiastes 3 it talks about time. God says there’s a time for everything.

EVERYTHING.

That’s freedom. For most of the time i think i’m behind on my schedule.

More often than not i feel like i’m not having enough time to do all the things i need to do.

And here, right now, God is telling me there’s time for everything.

i guess it all is important, then. (i mean, why would there be time for everything if only half of that everything needs to be done?)

But what is everything? And how can it be there is a time for everything?

What time is it now?

First i’d like to quote Ecclesiastes 3:

A Time for Everything

There is a season (a time appointed) for everything and a time for every delight and event or purpose under heaven—

A time to be born and a time to die;
A time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted.
A time to kill and a time to heal;
A time to tear down and a time to build up.
A time to weep and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn and a time to dance.
A time to throw away stones and a time to gather stones;
A time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing.
A time to search and a time to give up as lost;
A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear apart and a time to sew together;
A time to keep silent and a time to speak.
A time to love and a time to hate;
A time for war and a time for peace.

i always felt like this was a Scripture i did not understand. (And most likely i still do not understand this Scripture completely)

Was it supposed to be reassuring that there was a time for everything?

i’m not sure how it can be comforting to know there’s a time appointed for hate or mourning or war.

It may be just me (although i doubt that) but i would not mind if there’d be no time for these things.

They are painful and  pretty damaging. Why would there be a time for such things?

(The Word gives us an answer as to why there is hurt and pain and death in this life. It all began in Genesis with the fall into sin. Not obeying God’s Word and falling for the lies and temptations of the Devil opened the door to all evil in this world.

Still, there’s more. God’s Word does not only speak of our sins and our faults and all the evil in the world. It also speaks of Jesus’ death and resurrection which make it possible for us to experience forgiveness for our sins and to live in freedom.

Okay, i’m not going to write about that for now. i’d like to go back to Ecclesiastes. i just felt this writing would not be complete without mentioning a tiny bit about the Gospel. But i’m fully aware there’s much more to say than i choose to do now.)

To me it’s not the question as to why there’s hurt and pain and evil in this world that struck me. But it was the concept of God allowing us time to deal with those things, that really spoke to me.

God does not ask of us to just sweep things that are uncomfortable under a rag. No. He sets apart a specific time for those things, whatever they may be.

That means that if you are suffering, physically, mentally, emotionally, socially, financially, … Whatever area you may be hurting in, God says that there will be time – just enough time – to deal with those things. AND that when the time is right, He will bring it to pass as well.

So in my personal situation i feel like it means that there was a time i was supposed to experience difficult situations that i did not understand. But that maybe the time is now for me to really deal with the emotions that go with those difficult situations. And that one day, when i have taken the time to deal with all this, i will experience the joy that comes in the morning.

If i work together with the Lord and allow Him to tell me what time it is and how i can live my life according to His will and plan for my life – then i will be able to feel safe, no matter what is going on in my life.

i’m not there yet. i stumble, i fall. You know, i’m only human.

But i am willing to try and listen to the Lord and to accept His guidance when He tells me it is time to keep silent, to laugh, to search, to embrace, … But also when He is asking me to speak up, to mourn, to weep and to give things up as lost.

i won’t say it’s easy.

But if it’s according to His plan, i’ll trust Him to make it worthwhile.

And i find comfort knowing that the Lord, Who is in me,

is greater than the one who is in the world!!! (1 John 4:4)

Scars

* Possible trigger warning *

Please only continue to read if you find yourself in an emotionally healthy state. i don’t want to trigger or hurt anyone by all means.

Scars, we all have them. Emotional wounds. A hurt hidden deep inside, secretive even? Or maybe a wound more on the surface, you’ve had hours and hours of talking about it in therapy/counseling. Some of us have physical scars as well. Maybe you got burned sometime, or tripped over and it left a mark. Maybe you were ill and had to have surgery. Although it was meant to help you heal, it also left a scar, a reminder of what you’ve been through in order to receive healing.

i guess we all have scars, yet still it remains a topic often swept under a rug. People are uncomfortable to speak up about their own scars and reluctant to ask about other people’s scars. Scars are gossiped about, made fun of, or a reason to keep your distance. They are often hidden, and for a reason.

Still, i want to speak up. Without showing my scars right now i want to speak up about the reason behind them. i have scars. Lots of them. And i too am cautious about them and try to hide them as best i can. Yet at the same time i find myself questioning what message i’m sending into this world by hiding them and not showing the truth about my scars. To be honest i wish there was a way to only make them visible for people above a certain age and in a certain head space. i don’t want kids to understand the reason behind my scars and i don’t want other people struggling the way i did that caused those scars, to feel like physical pain would be the answer to their inner turmoil and pain.

So yeah, here’s a bit of the background of my scars. Maybe this is just a way of preparing the world for the scars that i carry, for when the time comes i’m ready to not cover them up anymore. i don’t know. But i do hope this is me raising awareness about the reality of scars and that it isn’t something we should judge about. We can’t judge a book by its cover. So why should we judge people by their looks and their marks? It is okay not to understand. Yet it is not okay to assume.

i have different scars. Emotional wounds, that may or may not have healed yet. i have physical scars from little accidents i had growing up. And i also have some scars from self-harm. This means that i caused myself to hurt physically in a way that was damaging to my body. Some of those wounds did heal almost fully. Some of them did leave an ugly mark. Now do i hear a lot of different assumptions about why people would hurt themselves. And to be honest there may be loads of different reasons and i may not even know all of the possible reasons to want to hurt yourself.

However keep in mind that this is my story and that if you come across someone who has some scars, even scars from self-injury, it could be because of a whole different reason.

So here goes my story… (i’m a bit nervous, i must say).

i guess that maybe the most important reason for me was that i was hurting so deeply inside, that i needed something visible to understand what was going on emotionally. i was having so many emotional wounds that i had no solution to. No way of knowing how they would ever heal. So i turned to self-harm as a way of taking control. With self-harm i could see the hurt, feel the hurt, and most importantly understand why i was hurting. And i also could follow the process of healing. i could take care of the wounds, and see how they were improving.

Also me hurting myself would help me silence the emotional pain for a while. The sharper the pain, the softer and smaller my inner distress would seem. Yes, i know it was still the same, but i was distracted for awhile.

i guess maybe it is kinda the same way as heaving surgery. When someone is ill there sometimes is surgery needed to help that person heal. Surgery is a good thing, it is supposed to help the patient, to resolve a problem. Yet there also may be an ugly scar remaining because of that surgery.

When i was hurting so badly inside, i needed some sort of emotional surgery as well. Therapy is supposed to do that and i have been having treatment for years. Yet it takes time. And maybe sometimes i got impatient, or literally did not have that time to be able to deal with the emotional wounds that were surfacing. And so i did what i think sometimes has been life-saving, i tried to do the “surgery” myself. By self-harming i tried to find a way to deal with the things that were going on.

i may not have been the best surgeon in the world. i may have done more (physical) damage than i did good, but it was something i needed at the time in order to get through the day.

Am i proud of what i have done? No (if i would be, i would not be so reluctant to write this and would not go into a lot of trouble to cover up my scars. Yes, it is trouble when it is 30°Celcius and you are still wearing long sleeves and jeans). Am i ashamed? Yes, a bit. i know deep down in my core that i did not have a choice back then. At the time there was no other way to deal with the hurt and pain. And i know there may come a moment where i would not know another way than to hurt myself again. i am 100% sure that self-harm is part of the reason that i’m still here. If i would have known a better way to cope, i would have definitely made that choice. But i did not, and now it’s up to me to deal with the consequences. The scars are real. They are not something i can deny. Just as i can not deny the emotional wounds any longer. But i hope there comes a time when i will be able to see how both my physical and emotional scars found healing. And that i can turn this mess into a message of hope and love and freedom in Jesus. i still have a long way to go, but maybe i will get there. One step at a time. One healed scar at a time. One breath at a time.

 Thank you for reading this.

i am sorry if i shocked you with my honesty.

i am sorry if i did mistakenly forget a very important detail of my story.

And i am sorry if you have to deal with physical and emotional scars yourself and don’t see the end of the tunnel, just yet.

Please keep holding on. Please know that ultimately self-harm is not an answer. Please keep reaching out for help and please know that i want to be here for you.

For when you can use some encouraging songs on this topic…

i love the following songs:

What scars are for – Mandisa

Scars – Jonny Diaz

Skin – Sixx A.M.

Dear Bully

Dear bully,

As i’m sitting here i find it hard to write this down. However, i feel like it’s what i need right now. And i hope that it will be a refreshing thing to do, but it is hard. Even the salutation is hard to write down. First of all, it’s weird to write “dear” before “bully”. A bully isn’t dear, is (s)he? But most importantly, i don’t really thought about you as being a bully. Even though there’s enough evidence to call you so, it still doesn’t feel right. i’ve always thought about you as my friend and i still tend to do so.

i am writing this letter to you, never intending to send it anyway. So what purpose does it serve? i guess i need a new perspective, i need to step out of my comfort zone and write things down. i want a chance to tell you my side of things, even though you may never really read this. 

If you would, i’d want you to know…

Dear bully, i don’t understand.

i don’t understand why you were always picking on me. i am glad you did, because i would find it even more difficult to watch you pick on someone else. But it hurt.

Dear bully, i want you to know that it hurt.

It hurt when you were calling me names. Even though it may seem innocent to you. To me those were not jokes. Once, or twice, it may have been funny to be called “Ten” or “foreigner” but after a while this just got boring and made me feel like an outsider.

It hurt when you called me names i don’t wish to repeat.

It hurt when you made fun of my grades, or my clothes, or my voice or my facial expression.

It hurt when one day you’d want to play with me, have fun with me, and the next day you’d gossip behind my back. Literally. It hurt to be able to hear all those things you told about me. It hurt to want to be able to join. For it wouldn’t hurt as much to talk bad about myself with you, as it was to hear you talk about me.

It hurt when you decided it was fun to literally step onto my toes, not once or twice but with a whole group of girls, on and off. Was it fun to watch me standing there, frozen? Did you know i was not walking away because it would only hurt even more if you’d be running after me?

Did you know the whole reason why i was standing there, was because i did not want to be standing in someone’s way? Did you know i still have moments where i watch myself standing there at the side of the playground being walked over? Literally and figuratively. i hear you laughing and mocking me around. And i’m not able to move. By then i knew there was no escape. There was no point in trying. You’d come and find me. i just tried to ignore the hurt and waited till lunch break was over and i’d be able to focus on my schoolwork again.

It hurt when you only wanted to be friends with me when you were in a fight with one of your other friends. It hurts to realize now, years later, that you only needed me to vent, to not feel alone and to be able to gossip about the other person. The minute you two were besties again there was no place for me on this planet. It hurts that i never really set any boundaries. i just let you treat me like dirt and went along with you playing me. It hurts that up to the present day i still feel like i am the one to blame.

It hurt to watch you write another letter filled with name-calling and other abusive language. It hurt to know that i would have to read those letters or you would read them aloud yourself. 

It hurt to be pushed in corners. Physically and mentally.

It hurt to be skipped when you were treating others your candy. But years later i’d thank you for that. Because i believed you have been saving me from gaining a pound, which made my eating disorder real happy.

It hurt to loose one of my best friends because you were denigrating me and in the end she thought she would have more fun with you all. It hurt even more to hear that one day she got dumped by you, too. It hurt. It really hurt. Because that was the moment i realized it was not me, but you. i realized that if you bullied my great, fun, amazing, talented, creative, loving & caring friend, you really did not need any reason at all to bully someone like me. i realized that even if i had been perfect, you’d still have picked on me.

Dear bully.

Now i wonder. Why?

Why did you hate me so much?

Why did you play me, used me, as if i was nothing more than a toy?

Why?

Have you ever, for just one second, questioned yourself? Asked yourself why you had to pick on others, on me, to feel better about yourself?

i hope you did. i hope you did ask those questions. And i hope the answers helped you to quit bullying others. i really do hope so.

i still see you as my friend. i was not afraid to lose you. i was not afraid to be left alone. i was perfectly capable of facing the world by myself. Yet i looked to you and saw a friend. And i still do. i don’t know why. i just see all those good qualities you carry within and i sometimes still long to be right beside you, helping you show your true colors to the world.

Dear bully, you were a bully. Yet there’s so much more to you than that.

And i hope you know that, too.

Here’s some lyrics i want to say to you if i had the chance to tell you something:

i was once a star, shining bright. You pulled me out of the sky, stole all my light, Why? Why?
i was once a boat, sailing off to sea. You dragged me back to the shore, changing my course, Why? Why me? Why you gotta’ pick on me?

And i don’t know where i’m going. But when i get there i can say that i have been the kindest me, that i can be. Can you say the same?

(Olivia Millerschin – i Can Say)

Are you cheated? Are you hurting now? How i wish that i could tell where your heart's at.

Can you see mine has found home?

This is what i want to say to you if i had one chance to speak to your heart:
You are loved more than you could ever know

This is what i want to say to you if i had one chance to tell you something:
You are loved more than you can imagine, imagine

Not sure if i've, made it clear enough it's not my love i sing about
Everybody asks, is God good? i believe He is, in fact, i know He is

(Rebecca St. James – You Are Loved)

For yes, dear bully. Even though your behavior was not very likable and it was real damaging to me, you still have to know that God loves the you He created you to be!

Who To Be?

Last week my psychiatrist asked me a question that got me thinking. Well, i’m already thinking 24/7 (my mind never is at rest, even when i sleep) but she sent my thoughts in a new direction. Well, not new new. Just, well uhm new. i had not thought about these questions in quite a while. So yeah, new. :)

What was her question, you might want to know? Well, it was about what famous people i find inspiring. Famous people i would want to be like. People that i looked up to for inspiration.

So yeah, this question got me thinking. And so i went searching for answers. First in my mind. But i could not find the answer there. The only answer i could come up with was that i would not want to be like someone else, simply because i don’t really want to be anyone. i just don’t want to be.

But well, i was certain my psychiatrist would not be satisfied with this answer. So i went online. What are some famous persons people look up to for inspiration? Musicians, actors, politicians, … i thought about some movie stars i looked up to when i was younger. i loved the movies of Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen (still love them :p) but i never thought i wanted to be like Mary-Kate or Ashley. i always looked at their characters and wanted to be like one of them. But mostly, i looked up to them because they were always together, never alone, … i longed to have a twin :) So no, even Mary-Kate and Ashley, with all i like about them, were not able to help me find answers to this question i kept pondering about. Although i enjoyed reminiscing the sweet moments of spending hours and hours of watching their movies, and rehearsing the movie lines… answers i did not find.

But who would give me some answers? Who would give me a clue about what i would want to be like? Who would tell me what kind of traits i’d like to have and portray?

After searching for a while and enjoying some fun online personality tests i found my answer. Mother Teresa. i think i would want to be (more) like her. Don’t mistake that for wanting to be her. But yeah, Mother Teresa inspires me. Her caring, empathetic, compassionate way of being there for others, especially those who were not able to give something in return… Yes, it touches me to think about it. And i would love to be more like her. To put others first, to help others in need.

i also read about her suffering from depressing thoughts for a really long time (i’m talking about 50 years or so) and even in the midst of her darkness, she kept going on. Being there for others. Offering smiles and lending hands, even when she must have felt really empty and exhausted on the inside of her. i long to be like that as well. To be there for others no matter how i am trapped in the dark, to still be a light to others.

And so i went back to my psychiatrist. Told her about my answer. We spoke about mother Teresa and her traits. my psychiatrist asked me a question that stayed with me. She asked how i thought mother Teresa would be able to handle all the publicity and stress of her work. She talked about how mother Teresa had a very caring, compassionate way around her, but also had a very strong character. She was a strong person. She stood for what she believed in, even though it must have been difficult at times to follow through with her hopes and dreams. Even though she had to face up to critics.

Now the question was, what do i think of being strong?

i long to be caring, compassionate and empathetic. But do i want to be strong? Do i want to have a strong personality? Do i want to take a risk and stand out in the crowd?

Do i have the courage to stand up for what i believe in?

And the big question? Who am i? Who do i want to be?

i’m not sure yet.

i’m still searching for some answers here :)

 

But i do think it is interesting. Being compassionate and caring sometimes is mistaken for being weak. When really, when you think about it, most of the time it’s really strong to stand up and show compassion, be caring, help another person in need.

It may not be the reason why but it certainly is something that often times comes along when you want to do something nice for another person. When you want to be there for someone. You simply can not help someone without getting noticed.

Oops… that was exactly what i was hoping to find as an answer. A way to be invisible, yet caring and compassionate.

Being compassionate and caring takes courage.

And courage takes strength.

Do i want to be a strong person, lending other people a hand?

Do you want to be a strong person, lending someone a hand?

This world needs compassionate people.

Now more than ever it seems.

Are you ready to be strong and courageous?

Are you ready to stand up for what you believe in?

i still don’t want to be seen, or heard, but i do want to love people, to help people, to encourage people, … Maybe i can find some courage to do so. To endure being seen and heard. Maybe i can take a stand against injustice. And fight for what i believe in.

That’ll be the next pondering question.

What do i believe in?

What is close to my heart?

What makes my heart sing?

*to be continued?*

To have an eating disorder

i have an eating disorder. i have had one since this nightmare started more than 8 years ago. In those 8 years there were times when you could tell by the way i looked. And there were times when you couldn’t. There were times when you would not see me eat, anything. And there were times i would go through a lot of pain and suffering to be able to eat in public.

i have an eating disorder and i feel like i need to talk about what it is like (and isn’t like) for me to have an eating disorder. There is so much nonsense this world (even professionals!!!) believes to be true about eating disorders.. And i feel like i almost always need to defend the realness of my disorder. As if i am on trial and need to justify why i don’t look or act the way people with eating disorders are “supposed to”. So here it goes:

i have an eating disorder.

No, that doesn’t mean i’m skinny. i try real hard not to go down the path of losing weight again, because i know that it won’t really get me anywhere (other than hospitals, dieticians, mental institutions) and most importantly, it won’t really help the people around me. i’m scared of inspiring people to diet and lose weight and so i am forcing myself to do whatever it takes to maintain a healthy weight. (But that doesn’t mean my body is healthy)

i have an eating disorder.

No, it does not mean i don’t like fat people or think they can’t be beautiful. To be honest, i admire people who may have a bigger size and seem to be comfortable in their own skin. i long to be like them.

i have an eating disorder.

No, it does not mean i want to look like a supermodel. It does mean i want to be as little as possible, because i am scared to take up too much space and stand in someone’s way.

i have an eating disorder.

No, it does not mean i don’t like food. It does mean that i feel like i’m undeserving of food.  i feel like i am not allowed to eat.

i have an eating disorder.

No, it does not mean i won’t eat a proper meal. However, my perception about what is normal is warped. It takes a huge amount of energy (and convincing of people around me) each day to neglect my thoughts and do the right thing (eat), even though my mind is telling me not to.

i have an eating disorder.

No, this does not mean i will be standing in front of the mirror all day, every day, to make sure every inch of me is perfect. i’d rather avoid mirrors, for they only encourage my disgust of myself. Instead of looking in mirrors all the time, i have an obsession with the scale and tend to weigh myself as often as i can, multiple times a day.

i have an eating disorder.

No this does not mean i’ll be working-out all day. To be honest, i already harmed my body too much and even though my mind is telling me to never ever sit still and relax, i can’t afford to listen, my body isn’t capable anymore. i feel like a failure because i can not really work-out, but i know i have to limit my exercise in order to stay as fit and healthy as possible.

i have an eating disorder.

Just like a lot of other people suffering from an eating disorder, you most likely won’t be able to tell from the way i look, or the way i act. However, you would be able to tell if you’d spend a split second inside my mind. For it is my thoughts that make me ill. It’s my thoughts that have an impact on my everyday life and it’s them that dictate my health, no matter what i weigh, eat or look like. i’m suffering from my eating disorder because my mind is constantly telling me i’m not good enough, not worthy of food, weighing too much, taking too much space, …

my eating disorder may be invisible to you (i hope so, as i try my best to minimize it’s impact on other people) but it is very real and damaging to me.

A quote that fits perfectly: "Sometimes it’s not about what i’m eating. Sometimes i just won’t act upon the words that are swimming around in my head. Maybe i look fine today, i will eat every meal and nobody will notice. That doesn’t mean it’s gone. That doesn’t mean i’m fine."

Yes, my eating disorder is most likely invisible to you. Unless maybe you forgot to tell me that you can see my thoughts. ;-) For that’s where the biggest part of the disease takes place.

No matter how difficult, no matter the struggle, no matter the hurt… Please always try and remember this

Stay strong for you are loved!