From Anorexic to Vegetarian to Over-eater to Normal (Whatever That Means)

I’ll never forget the first time someone ever told me I was an extremist. The moment itself wasn't exactly monumental, but the words that were spoken have stuck with me ever since. I was an extremist, she said, and it was all or nothing with me. My friend said it, but I didn't doubt it. I knew it was absolutely true.  Always and never were uttered in the majority of my sentences (which is a habit I’m still trying to break), and in my mind there were no grays in life- only black and whites.  I say I was an extremist, but I suppose I still am in many ways.

The middle ground, so to speak, isn't something I do very well. I typically can’t find it, I don’t understand it if I do, and I can’t comprehend how to walk such a path. I mean, I can’t even grasp that there is a spectrum of things in life. To me, it’s all either good or bad, fast or slow, healthy or unhealthy, truth or lies, black or white … you get the point. I did, too. Once it was pointed out for what it was, I knew I had a radical, all-or-nothing mindset, and I began to see how I had swung between extremes in my life because of it, seemingly incapable of landing anywhere in the middle.

This “swing” has been most prevalent in the area of my eating disorder, and possibly even more so in the process of healing from it, as I've jumped from one side of the spectrum to another. Needless to say, anorexia was on one end- complete control, eating nothing- and binge eating on another end- a loss of control, eating everything- and I have regrettably been on both sides, plus some. My eating disorder has taken many different faces.  

It’s difficult for me to relive those dark, suffocating phases in any way, but because I believe one must know the tragedy before truly appreciating the triumph, I want to share them with you. 

I will show you the ashes first, but I promise to end by showing you the beauty. Hang in there- it’s coming.

I was anorexic for nearly two years before I even recognized I had a disorder. I spent those two years literally starving myself, and yet I managed to believe I was just being choosy about what I was and wasn't going to eat.  I was utterly blind to the fact that my mirror was running by life, and my vision was so warped that I couldn't comprehend why my loved ones were worried about me. If anything, I thought, they should’ve been proud of my level of control- I certainly was. Back then, anyway. It wasn't until one day when I fell hysterically to the floor in tears after a glance in the mirror and a snap of the rubber band on my wrist (to convince myself I wasn't hungry) that I realized I had a problem.

Maybe I always knew, but that day I finally admitted it. I could no longer deny that I had an eating disorder, and I immediately knew I didn't want to be anorexic any more.  So what did I do? I became an extreme vegetarian.

I’m not sure if it was because I was still afraid of being fat, because I didn't know what it looked like to eat normally, or because I felt guilty for what I had done to my body, but in an attempt to flee anorexia I swung myself over to what I thought was the next best thing, and I became an obsessive and controlling vegetarian. I buried myself in nutrition books and documentaries as if somehow they would bring me freedom, but all it did was deepen my fear of food and put a different face on the same disorder. I thought that because I was actually eating I was healed, but I was still afraid, I was still controlling, and I was still bound. Vegetarianism was merely a different jail cell, though it took me months to see it that way.

As time passed it became apparent to me that I was still trapped in the prison of control, and I hated every second of it. I didn't want that anymore, not any part of it, and so I did what I thought was the best thing to do: I ran as far as I could to the other end of the spectrum. I didn't want control, so I decided not to have any. Extremist, remember? I told myself to eat what I wanted, when I wanted, as much as I wanted, and I vowed I would no longer tell myself no. You want that brownie for dinner? Go for it.

This lovely idea, as you can probably imagine, led to a cycle of immense binge eating, emotional eating, unhealthy eating, and then depression- each aspect a precursor to the next. At first, I binged on a regular basis because my body was so nutritionally deprived that I couldn't help myself. Sadly, there were numerous times I made myself physically ill because of how much I had eaten in one sitting. It was then that I became so upset with myself for binging, that I began to eat out of my emotional need for comfort, stuffing my face with brownies, cookies, and sweets. Quite naturally, I gained weight, which led to a hopeless depression because deep down in my heart I was still the anorexic who was terrified of becoming fat.

Then, because I was depressed I would binge, and the cycle repeated itself all over again.  

It’s ugly, isn't it? What’s even worse is that I continued to swing back once more into overly-controlled vegetarianism, and then back again into my no-control zone. There was nothing freeing about it.

Ok, I think you get it. Let’s get to the beauty.

Throughout the years of my struggle to become free from anorexia, I knew that God was with me and that He was guiding me through the process of healing, yet I was immobilized by fear. I knew my disorder was both a physical and mental issue, and I couldn't understand how I could walk in the healing of one without hurting the other. If I focused on adjusting my eating, I thought I’d likely fall into depression as I gained weight while fear still controlled my heart. However, if I focused on healing my heart, I’d likely continue a binge and purge cycle of eating because I simply didn't know how to eat in a balanced way.

Going after both aspects seemed overwhelmingly impossible, and so I chose what I thought was best: I told God I wanted to go after healing my heart. God was faithful to me in that, and you can read about some of the healing that I've experienced in my heart here, but God has also been calling me to something else lately, and I've finally found the courage to take Him up on it.

All year I have felt God asking me to deal with the choices I make regarding food, but I've been too afraid to even think about it. I feared I’d fall back into control and I thought it was better not to think about food at all. I believed I was forever done being anorexic, but I also knew there were still pieces (maybe even chunks) of fear in my heart, and so I allowed myself to be crippled by it and told God I wasn't ready. My heart had been progressively healing, but my body was being treated the same. There was no control, and I could physically feel the consequences of that as my body was weak, sluggish, and unhealthy. Something needed to change.

Not long ago, I spent my day binging on some of the unhealthiest foods I could get my hands on. I, once again, made myself physically ill due to an overload of food, and I cried tears of fury because my actions. I was tremendously frustrated, and my extremist mentality broke out and screamed, “That’s it! I’m done with this! I’m going all the way back to vegetarianism and I’m going to do it right!” Fortunately, God’s voice broke out in that moment, too, and I felt peace fill me as He calmly spoke, “There is grace for you to walk in the middle.”  

"The middle?” I asked, perplexed. “I have no idea what that looks like, God.”

“Let me teach you how to have self-control without being controlling. There is grace for you to learn.”

“Okay, Lord,” I agreed, and teach me He has.

Though this walk hasn't yet been long compared to the entire journey of healing I've been on, God has taught me so much already on this path of intentional, healthier eating. Primarily, He has shown me that self-control and manipulation are two very separate things. Self-control is a discipline born out of wisdom and discernment, while manipulation is a poisonous behavior born out of fear and selfishness. I am learning that I can tell myself no and decide to skip dessert, and it doesn't make me anorexic or controlling to do so. I can have self-control without being controlling, and that realization has brought me a much-needed freedom. Suddenly I feel like I can breathe.

On another level, God has shown me through this experience that His presence alone truly can drive out all fear. He squashes fear like a bug! Because it was He who asked me to walk down this road, I know He is walking it right beside me, and that brings me an unfathomable, unshakable peace. God is in this with me, and that knowledge alone gives me the courage to keep going. I used to be so afraid of meal times that I’d do anything to mentally distract myself from whatever I was eating, and I wouldn't cook (or learn to cook) because it took too much thinking- God has given me the bravery to face both of those things. Not only are meal times less intimidating, but now I intentionally think about them, fearlessly planning with God what I should prepare. In fact, if I find myself not consciously aware during a meal, I stop myself to think about it.

Lastly, what God has spoken to my heart thus far, is that all things truly are possible through Him, real healing is coming, and He isn't done with me yet. I know I've experienced a lot of healing in regards to my disorder, and I know I’m no longer the girl I wrote about in the beginning, but I also know I have a lot of distance left to cover. Graciously, God keeps whispering to me, “Don’t worry, it’s coming. Keep walking with Me, and I will show you.”

God truly is a redeemer, for He has taken the once darkest, scariest, most devastating part of my day and turned it into joy; because yes, my healing is coming, and it comes with every meal.