:: Authentic ::

Authenticity.

.....it's been a word that has been popping up in many different facets of my life lately.

What does it mean to me when it comes to my blog?

It means that I make a point to be real, putting off falsehood and misconceptions and being true to my readers by blogging about my REAL life.....the good, the bad and the downright ugly. Believe me, there is plenty of the latter two.

I'm certainly not going to start documenting every single unsightly moment I have on a day-to-day basis but does mean that I have a deep desire to be myself and share the joys and struggles that make up the daily around here.

I want there to be an equal amount of fun and laughter as hard and frustrating, because, let's face it, no ones life is perfect or ideal and I want to portray both sides of the world according to me so that no one will read my blog and be discouraged because my life appears to be flawless and easy because that's all I ever write about.

Back in the fall of 2009, I shared openly about the biggest obstacle I've ever had to overcome in my adult life: my battle with bulimia (pop on over and read the post here so you can get caught up).

I recently had a comment from a friend of mine, asking if I would share more about my story....

"Just a thought, a while ago you asked about what you should blog about. I love the way you share your heart on this blog (that is REALLY what makes any blog stand apart), and I wondered how you would feel about sharing more about your eating disorder? I have far too many friends who have struggled with this and it is something that I just don't understand or 'get'. It might help a lot of other moms who read your blog and have girls who are approaching the teen years."

I'm gonna do my darndest to try and explain a little more about where my issues stemmed from and what my life looked like.

I used food to comfort myself. I ate when I was lonely, when I was upset, when I was hurt, when I was bored. It started in the fall of 2003 when my then (first) boyfriend (with whom I had a good but up and down relationship) left to work out of province. It was heartbreaking. I was very insecure, needy. I had placed all my value and worth in how he felt about me. I was not at all plugged in with my identity in my Heavenly Father and when he left, I felt like I had no one and nothing. I became very depressed and turned to food, all the time. I would gorge myself and overeat and then purge because of the panic and fear of weight gain. Every time he would call we would drift farther and farther apart. The farther we drifted the worse I became. I tried to hide it, acting like everything was fine. I, by no means, will say that I was "addicted" to food, but it was truly like a drug. It would give me a high, of sorts. My heart would race, while I stuffed myself on almost anything I could find, thinking about ridding my body of everything I was eating. Sometimes I would go days or even weeks without binging or purging, thinking I was better and that everything was fine. But then one little thing would set me off and I would plunge into the darkness again. Eventually, the relationship ended and I felt utterly and completely lost and alone. He had made me feel beautiful and wanted and attractive and worthwhile and when he was gone, I felt worthless and empty and void of anything that merited any one's time. I did wind up telling a few people. I thought that if someone knew, they could help me, make me better. It only made me feel like more of a failure because those who cared about me, KNEW what a screw-up I was. The summer of 2004 rolled around and my former boyfriend came home. We were sort of back together, I was 'happy' again and then I left for school in Alberta. To say that my only year of college was the darkest and loneliest of my life would be completely accurate. I was living alone, in a bedroom at one point and a basement suite at another and was only at school for five hours a day at the most. Then I would return to my solitude. My life was consumed by every calorie. My world revolved around food and either eating too much, too little or sometimes, just enough (on my good days). I went the whole school year severely depressed, devastated, empty. Looking back, I was almost robotic, moving through the paces with a smile on my face. I told my mom and also ended up telling one of my teachers who referred me to a clinic at the U of A. Just before then end of the year, I met with a doctor who prescribed me some antidepressants. He stressed getting connected with some sort of therapy or counsellor when I got home. I remember the long ride home on the train, thinking to myself that this wasn't going to get me anywhere. That it would make me feel better for a couple days, and then I would delve back into the pit. But, a few weeks later, thanks to the thrill of getting to go home and the help of the medication, my fog started to lift. I started to feel hope for the first time in years. Getting home to the ocean and my friends and church family only broke my depression more. I started seeing a very wonderful counsellor at church and through her, God set me free.

However, the story doesn't end there. It is a daily choice to not return to my old ways. To choose not to default back to my old "me". The me I was when I was dead in sin.

"In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires. Do not offer any part of yourself to sin as an instrument of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer every part of yourself to him as an instrument of righteousness. For sin shall no longer be your master, because you are not under the law, but under grace."

If I have a rough day, if I'm tired or feeling overwhelmed, I still battle with my old self. The self that wants me to sit down, and eat. The self that wants me to comfort myself by turning to food instead of freedom. I believe it will be temptation I will carry with me always....but I am a slave to grace and not my weakness.

I'm going to stop writing, before ya'lls eyeballs fall out of your head, but I really hope that maybe this post offered some insight, some clarity and some encouragement.