At the end day of doing nearly nothing I stepped into the shower and cried. Great big ugly tears with quiet sobs.
I think over recent conversations with one of my kids; the kind of conversation that reminds me of how I’ve failed them, hurt them, neglected them, and a slew of other things. I’ve heard it from each kid and my husband. Everyone is always feeling like I pay too much attention to someone else.
The tears in the shower didn’t start with thoughts about my kids. It started with my considering the Whole30 diet. (Diet is used for lack of a better word.) Basically, you eat meat, vegetables, and some fruits. You eliminate grains, legumes, dairy, sweeteners, and a few other things. The purpose is to reset your body by cutting out the foods that tend to damage our bodies. At the end of the 30 days you can begin to introduce different food groups to see how they affect you.
Since I miscarried in 2016 I stopped caring about this body that failed me; all the while feeling guilt over failing my body. I let sugar and processed foods have more room in my food choices. I disconnected from relationships and stopped caring about much.
A few weeks ago I heard myself tell me, “Okay, it’s time. Get up.”
Then I heard a couple of podcasts about fasting. Not the dietary kind of fasting, but the kind where we take our focus of ourselves and our vices to turn our eyes back to the things of God. Some people fast from social media or tv or late nights, whatever that may be. Whatever it is we are using to fill the void that only God can fill, that’s the thing we fast from.
I am in an unhealthy relationship with food. Yet, I can’t just fast from all food.
A few days ago a group of friends said they were starting Whole30. I said I wanted to join as soon as I could go grocery shopping. So, I headed over to Pinterest to learn more. I opened a dozen tabs in my browser as I perused recipes and tips.
And there I left them. For days.
After work one day I picked up Nancy’s burger and fries. Oh, and a milkshake that didn’t taste all that great. After all, if I’m cutting out foods I better eat something good, right?
Why do we do that? More specifically, why did I do that? What am I afraid of losing? What am I afraid of gaining? What does freedom look like?
I asked myself these questions as I drove home. With a knot in my stomach, it became more real to me of how I’ve allowed myself to be so enslaved by food. By the looks of it, most of this nation is in the same boat. The nation that claims to be all about freedom is slowly dying from their our addiction.
I’m afraid to start it just in case I fail one more thing. People hope I make it. Friends want good things for me. I know they do. I am the fattest girl in the room 99.9% of the time. I’m the one others mentally compare themselves to, “well, at least I’m not as big as her”. I know this because I’ve done it.
My husband asks me why I want to lose the weight and I don’t have a good answer. I know I want something more. It’s frustrating to him that I don’t have a thing that’s motivating me and that I’ll fail again if I don’t find that motivation. We stay up late into the night with him asking questions and me trying to find the answers.
All I know is that I don’t want to walk in the slavery of addiction and self hatred that I’ve seen in my life and in those around me. I want something different for my own kids. I want a life that is full of hope for them. I want them to create their own lives and not carry on the victim mentality or the quick fix mentality of “well, I can just take a pill to make me feel better” while not being willing to change anything in their lives.
I don’t know, these are all just thoughts rolling around in my head. I don’t have the answers. I do know that when I am consistently focused on writing in my gratitude journal, my personal journal, and reading my Bible I don’t struggle like this. I get focused and remember who I am and that I am so loved.
I titled this post as Uncovered and Afraid because that’s how I was feeling when I started writing this last night. Afraid of all these feelings. Afraid of what it would be like when I shared them with Lennox. Afraid of being public about any of the changes I want to make. Uncovered because this is THE battle I need to conquer. Talking about this is *almost* worse than standing physically naked in front of anyone.
Will you, once again, join me on this journey of discovery? Are you willing to explore what it is that holds you back? What is your passion? What do you wish you could do? What’s the thing you do or use instead of connecting with the Father?
Can you share that with me? Will you let those things go?