OVERCOMING A ONGOING BATTLE OF ANOREXIA WITH GOD.

14th of September 2023 entry.

📝14/10/2023.

Was I really recovering for myself?

I had lost motivation to journal in a long time so this was my first journal in 2 months. It was a good sign as if life was going really bad, I would have the urge to journal but the very fact I had lost motivation meant I was fine.

However, it was on this day, things studently started feeling difficult again and my weight was linear. I would gain but loose again. Not only my weight was linear but my emotions. Some days were amazing whilst others weren't - I guess that's human nature for you.

I felt I had lost love for all the foods I once enjoyed. Yes I restricted from all the foods I enjoyed but I never got the urge to face them as fear foods as I never craved or thought about them anymore; my body was trained not to desire for them anymore. I also felt I was looking love for food in general as it just felt forced for me to have to eat.

I was always full but had to eat.

I never had an appetite but had to eat.

All these factors made me get tired of food in general. I felt my freedom was taken away. I wanted to have the freedom to skip meals when I didn't want to eat but I couldn't due to the meal plan. I say this because my appetite was so bad on this day; the thought of eating made me sick to the stomach however, I was forced to finish my meal. It stayed like that throughout the whole day. In addition, I waited for praise for pushing past uncomfortableness but I never received any and felt horrible. To answer my question at the introduction; It made me realize I probably was still recovering for others.

My mum had come back from America with a huge suitcase of American candy which I used to be thrilled about. I used to fantasized living in America so I can have all of their unhealthy candy and snacks but when I saw everything, I felt nothing ( I obviously felt gratitude but no excitement). She had not my sisters what they had requested and got me graham crackers and goldfish which I knew were nice.

I tried a bit of the graham crackers even though I didn't feel like it because my mum had asked me to. After eating some of it I felt I had no ability in me to have dinner or maybe I felt guilty. However, I ended up eating it because I knew and was told that I have to push full the uncomfortable feeling for growth. Yes, I felt super full and sick, I even felt I exceeded more than I could handle but doing this would help my future self eat normally. Doing this, would help my stomach get used to digesting more foods. It had shrunk so much, it no loner knew how to digest that much but if I keep exposing it to more food, it will learn.

I was obviously left feeling guilty and I was struggling to feel satisfied or relaxed as my stomach just felt so bloated. I felt horrible mentally and physically and I sought for praise but no one even checked if i had finished the food. NO one was there to say well done. I felt I shouldn't have ate at all if no one even checked to see if I did- I would have gotten away with it. Once again, the exposed how my recovery was till for validation and not for my personal well being.

I started crying and I felt like giving up and returning to my old habits. It was so odd.

Didn't I regret developing anorexia, so why did I want to return back to it?

Did I find comfort in undereating or harming?

Was it the devil?

Was I loosing my connection with God?

Why did I want to just go back to square 1 when I despised square 1.

I just cried alone. I wanted to speak to my dad who always had wise words but he was in Nigeria for work purposes. I did something very selfish which I didn't realize was selfish before doing it.

I texted him how I was feeling.

As if he could just give me advice, he was probably busy.

When I went to go unsend everything, he replied with his wise, kind and gentle words. The words I craved to hear. The words that encouraged me. He reminded me of God as well then I sought God.

I then realized when no one is there for me, my two fathers are. God is. My dad is.

God is always waiting for me to talk to him and has his arms wide open. Even when I take long to come in his arms, he still accepts me.

My dad is always busy but still makes time to talk and encourage me.

I love God.
I love my Dad.

I love my loved ones.