I battle anorexia. I have for a long time. Sometimes it surfaces, other times, it stays hidden for a while- convincing me that I’m “totally fine” and don’t actually have an eating disorder. But in 2019 I watched the number on the scale drop almost 50 pounds and it still wasn’t enough for me. I would hit my goal weight, and suddenly, it wasn’t a victory point- it was a challenge point- I would tell myself that if I could just lose another 5, then I would be good. But I never was “good.” It was always 5 more. 10 more. “Then I’ll stop.” In the beginning of 2019 I purchased a scale, and it quickly become important to me. The mind games my eating disorder plays with me are conniving and brutal. It is diseased thinking- another battle that I face along with the other addictions I have worked so hard to fight.
Last night I was talking to the man I’m courting about my struggle with this and he told me I needed to get rid of the scale. I fought him on it. “But I always have to know what I weigh!” The thought made me sick and uncomfortable and I didn’t like it. However, I knew that as I continue to seek health and recovery in every aspect of my life- this is a necessary step. He is flying out to Jackson next week to help me with my move to Nashville, so I asked him to throw it away for me when he gets here.
This morning he called me though. And he told me that this is something I had to do. I had to do it for myself. So Jerry challenged me to write out Romans 12:1 on the top of the scale, and to then either destroy the scale, or just throw it away. It would have been easier to just let Jerry throw it away for me. But then I would be skipping a vital step in this journey of recovery-taking responsibility and doing the hard things for myself. So tonight I wrote out that verse and then I took a hammer to my scale.
I didn’t feel relived once I broke it. I felt uncomfortable. But I also felt a little more empowered. Choosing recovery requires a willingness to be uncomfortable. It requires a willingness to take suggestions and to listen to the ones who love you. Choosing Christ requires the same thing. When I engage in my eating disorder, I am criticizing God’s creation. I’m abusing what He says is “good.”
Sometime last year I was speaking with a therapist, voicing my struggles with this, and she told me- “Amy-don’t be like people who have harmed you. Don’t be your own perpetrator.” And I was reminded of that tonight.
My biggest battle is me. I stand in the way of healing, I stand in the way of recovery, and I stand in the way of whole living, when I choose to entertain the whispers of my eating disorder. I don’t want to be held captive by the numbers on a scale. I want to be captivated by Christ alone.
So tomorrow is trash pick up day, and that scale will be hauled away from my house. Could I go get another one? Sure. But I won’t tomorrow. And when tomorrow get’s here, I’ll say the same thing. I deserve to give my body the nutrients it needs.
I always say it-recovery and Christ-centered living is a moment by moment decision. Tonight I decide that I am not a number. I am a sacred daughter of Christ. And in this moment, I’m going to focus on that.
Romans 12:1- “Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God- this is your true and proper worship.”