Yesterday was a very fabulous Friday! I was presented with an academic achievement award at my school for having a semester GPA above 3.0. This was a huge honor for me and really meant a lot. My first semester back at school since being sick and I rocked it. I rocked it when I wasn’t sure I could. I was filled with self doubt, uncertainty, and at times overwhelming anxiety. I spent a lot of time questioning what I got myself into, and was I really smart enough- good enough to start the pathway to becoming an RN? I proved my self doubt wrong. I learned to believe in myself, and accept my strengths and worked on my weaknesses. I learned how much love and support I have around me and that I’m pretty sure that I have the best cheerleaders rooting for me. Rooting for me in my successes, my failures, my self doubt, and loving me through it all. And to me, receiving this certificate meant so much more than just academic achievement. It held all the things I worked to overcome last semester, and a belief that I am good enough, and I can do anything I set my mind to. It showed me that once we throw away the self doubt, let go of our insecurities, and place our security in Christ we can metamorph into all God plans for us to be if we place our trust in him and take those first scary steps out onto the water. All we need to do is hold our hand out to Him, and walk by faith.
Recovery. Sometimes recovery is a garden bed full of fresh, colorful flowers on a warm spring day. Sometimes it’s a tree bending and cracking under the heavy rain from the season’s strongest storm. Sometimes it’s both of these things wrapped up in the same day- even the same hour. It’s a crazy, wonderful, messy, fragile, but still somehow beautiful piece of me. But at the moment, it feels more like I’m the tree trying not to snap in the middle of the storm. I’m digging my roots into the soil as hard as I can trying to stay strong. But every time I start to feel like the colorful garden bed again, the winds of Ed’s storm start to roar and the raindrops of his destruction start to fall around me and flood my mind. He tells me food is the enemy. He tells me I’m worthless when I eat. He tells me my weight needs to be an ideal perfect number. He gets mad when I tell him that by choosing to eat and ignore him that I’m making a bold statement. I am making a statement that I’m worthy. He gets angrier when I tell him my weight isn’t who I am and it doesn’t matter how the world sees me because God looks at my heart. He gets livid when I tell him food is my friend. Food helps my body survive the demands of each day. He screams, he shouts, he bangs his fists against the walls of my mind. But I know in this moment, as I lay in my bed crying from the exhaustion I feel from fighting, that each time I challenge Ed, the smaller he becomes. And the smaller he becomes, the harder he will fight for control. And the harder he fights, the stronger my fight for freedom will become. So I will close my eyes, dream about becoming a colorful, lively free flower again, and wake up knowing I am clothed in God’s armor, and with God, anything, even conquering my hardest recovery battles, is possible.