Survived...Strong...


Sitting at work is sometimes difficult when you are struggling.  

It is no secret that I have lost nearly 40 pounds, 30 of which have been since mid-December.  It is no secret that I have to continually battle the anorexic demons of my past that still try to tempt me to go back to that way of losing.  I am no longer ashamed of what I did back then...what I did was what I knew at the time to control what little bit of life I had control over in a time when someone else had power over me.  I am no longer scared of how it takes time to lose weight the "right" way because I'm proving to myself that it is completely and entirely possible.

However, there are still days where I struggle.  Over the past week, I have gained 2 pounds back.  I wouldn't mind if I knew that was in muscle mass.  But it is affecting me right now.  Old habits have returned and are wreaking havoc on my psyche.  In fact, I didn't sleep last night after 2:45.  I was up, in the living room, listening to music and browsing Pinterest...lost in desperation of wanting sleep, but knowing that deep down something was keeping me awake.

That is when the above photo presented itself on my phone screen.  As I reread the statement over and over, I realized that I have a past that is scarred in places.  I made poor decisions in the midst of struggle.  But it isn't me anymore and those moments didn't define me then either.  I was doing what I thought I had to do in order to survive.  

Fast forward to this morning as I'm packing up lunches for B and me...I got his chicken, refried beans, cheese, and tortillas packed up and grabbed him a Gatorade bar for breakfast.  I had planned on grabbing breakfast, once again this week, somewhere on my way to work, but the photo kept replaying in my head like a slow motion scene from a movie.  As crazy as this will sound, the voice that was saying the statement to me was not my own...it was my Granddad's.  It was in that moment that I realized I couldn't give up on myself, just as I had realized all the thoughts of the early morning hours.  So, I got my pizza slices (2 small ones) packed away with a banana for lunch. Breakfast was going to be my Greek yogurt and some grapes. 

I have done this before and I can (and will) do this again.  I am doing this for my own health.  I am doing this for Naise (or as my sister has already nicknamed our hope...Phog).  So, thank you, whoever posted that photo on Pinterest for reminding me that my past isn't who I am...and thank you, Granddad, for reminding me just how much it means to not give up.

*I see Eric (it is so weird to call him Dr. Clarkson) on Monday afternoon. Asking for prayers that we are still on the right track to not having to go to Wichita any time soon.*


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