In my time of blogging, since August 2015, I’ve said a lot of things. After being reminded of how fragile life really is twice recently, it made me evaluate what is really important to me and look back on my content to see if I was saying what I really wanted to, and I wasn’t. In an entire year and eight months, out of three hundred posts, I’ve had ample opportunity to talk, but I could not find one in which I said exactly what I wanted to say and as much as I wanted to say. Because I was (and am) scared of the consequences. The domain change from my previous website was supposed to help me with that, but my anxiety from the previously anti-Christian crowd I ran in while pregnant still runs high.
I had friends then who believed I was on “their side” with many issues, but then later found out I was Christian. It was not a good situation and it still handicaps me mentally now to have dealt with such vehement anger and rage from people I had done nothing to. The only thing that had changed was that they found out I was Christian.
I have a lot of friends now who view me as a reasonable, maybe even intelligent person. But after this, they might not. And I have a lot of people who don’t like me (around here we call them fans, because they hate you but they can’t take their eyes off your Facebook timeline) think that I am a lot of things that I am not, and after this, they might not.
This video might change the relationships I am in, for better and for worse, but I’m done waiting and twiddling my thumbs in search of the right time and the perfect words. What people think of me is not important, not by a long shot. What is important is what I need to tell you, and it can’t wait.
I don’t care if you love me or hate me, if you read and watch everything I post or this is your first time. No matter who you are, I want you to see this.
My apologies in advance, there is a lot of crying.
Do you or your spouse suffer from depression? Do you have any tips for getting through it together? How To Help Your Spouse Through Depression
I’ve talked about my experiences with anorexia a lot. In relation to the roots of it, the lessons learned and the weight lost. In fact, I have another 2000 word article that isn’t completed yet in draft about my latest struggles that I plan to add to the mix (I’m just not quite ready to share yet). But in keeping with the March challenge that Kitten invited me to join, I’d like to talk about it from a new angle: anorexia and femininity.
At first blush, it can be easy to see how femininity and anorexia are intertwined. Anorexia can include compulsions towards “feminine” ideals like hourglass figures and a desire to be “thin and pretty”.
In essence, anorexic women often desire to be more attractive, and often times desire characteristics (like the hourglass figure) that signal fertility in order to attract a man. But in the application of trying to achieve perfection, anorexia actually moves far, far away from these things. In the quest for the perfect hourglass figure, many of us emaciate ourselves to the point of inducing amenorrhea, a lack of menstrual cycle, making fertility chances rather low. While it seems counterintuitive, the disorder ushers us further, instead of focusing on our body’s warning signs.Continue Reading
This video is essentially about the problems I have with the phrase “You Don’t Look Anorexic”. I talk about how this is damaging to both women AND men who suffer from eating disorders and body image issues.
In this video, I wanted to lay out the things that are helping me in managing my anorexia currently and just talk about where I am at with it now.
Here is the question: Being a young, hot blooded woman that you are, did being a late teenager and being in purity circles, and sex before marriage – did you have crazy perverted thoughts swimming inside of your head? Or was it like a switch, that you turned off?
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“A chewed up piece of gum.”
These cringe-worthy phrases from Christian purity culture ingrained themselves in the minds of the impressionable youth of my generation. Fearing the destruction of their children’s bodies and souls as the world around them became caught up in pushing a progressive sexual agenda, our parents and thought leaders rose up and sought to fight back against the lewdness and promiscuity surrounding us.
Unfortunately, their approach was entangled with fear and pain, going so far as to criminalize all forms of affection. This bore fruit of unprecedented physical, mental, and spiritual consequences as our worth and identity were found in what we did and didn’t do sexually, not in Christ and His sacrifice for us. The heavy-handed and legalistic emphasis on sexual-purity-at-all-costs left a legacy of emotional and spiritual devastation in its wake that follows many even into adulthood.
This book takes a vulnerable look at these issues through the eyes of someone who experienced it firsthand. It seeks to identify what purity culture got wrong and bring peace to the hearts of those whom it has wounded so deeply, by exposing the truth: It is Christ who makes us pure.
When I was young, I lost almost all of my social circles and friends in a very abrupt and traumatic way. I didn’t get the same amount of socialization as most children to begin with because I was homeschooled, but these sudden events cut me off from everything and everyone I knew except for my family and church. I was very close to many of the people I lost during that time, and losing them wounded me deeply.
For a long while, I refused to accept that my status quo had changed. I fought to be reunited, not knowing if I would ever see any of my friends again. Without going into too much detail, I sank into one of the deepest depressions I’d ever been in.
Not only had I lost healthy, regular social interaction with people my age, but I had to cope with some very traumatic events that had accompanied it and the loss of the future I had hoped for. I held myself back, physically and emotionally stunting myself to try to preserve some semblance of everything that had been right before the world fell in around me.
My hope was that, if I could keep myself the same (physically via anorexia) as I had been when I had been separated from the people I loved, maybe it would bring that time back for us. Maybe I could remind us all of a time in which household drama and mental health problems hadn’t taken over our lives. It wasn’t logical, but not many things in my world were at that point.
At the same time, I told myself that my friends were fine. I told myself that their lives weren’t falling apart like I felt like mine was. There was no way that they, as good Christian people, would be having the problems with depression and horrible thoughts that I dealt with.
I thought they were too strong for that, so I tried to be strong too. I didn’t want to disappoint them. Most of them were older than me, and I constantly felt like I was playing catch-up to try to impress them by being on their level. I thought that my compromised mental health would set me back even further from truly being included.Continue Reading
Hey there! 🙂
So in the last week, I’ve had a couple of people contact me out of the blue about various mental health questions. Because I’ve been very open on this blog and New Crunchy Mom about it, I guess I’ve built a reputation of knowing about these things and honestly I think that is great and I love helping others who struggle like I do/have.
There was one question I got that I thought might be helpful to address here on the blog and that was: Can you recommend any Anorexia recovery groups?
To answer that, in short, no I cannot.
I have tried a few different anorexia recovery groups, most of which were specifically Christian because that was important to me. I wanted to know that the encouragement that I was hoping to get from the groups was going to be bible-based.
After I joined the groups, there were three things that really stuck out to me and gave me some pause for concern.
#1. There was a lot of underlying pro-Ana discussions.
A lot of what I saw going on in these recovery groups was thinly veiled attempts at competition on who had it “worse”, who had lost the most weight, who had been in the most danger, and who was relapsing the worst. There were a lot of numbers thrown out, and pictures, and I honestly felt like it was doing more to encourage an eating disorder rather than to encourage recovery.Continue Reading