True Discussions - Molly VanMaarth

Photo credit: Melanie McGauhey www.thevelvvettrunk.com

Living with the Lies

It didn’t start as a sickness— it didn’t look like disease. I never saw it as an addiction. And I certainly never saw it as deadly. I didn’t want an eating disorder—and I never thought I’d have to battle one. But at age 15 (two years ago), I began wandering down a road leading to rock bottom. Skinny meant pretty, pretty was best, and “best” was the #1 item on my list. I felt that my best couldn’t exist without thin…and I would do anything to get there.

Becoming a believer of the lies was way easier than learning to fight them. With perfection on a pedestal, and others’ approval as first priority, I put my effort into achieving the ‘ideal’. It didn’t take long to see that I was pursuing an ideal that could never be reached: I wanted to be skinny, but no matter what my weight, I could never reach “perfection”.

I gave the lies control, and I continued to follow them; my unrealistic goals dangling in front of my face. Little by little, I cut off food and fed myself lies. My disguised enemy followed me everywhere, in every way; over-exercising and under eating; over-eating and throwing it up; laxatives and calorie counting.

A life like this, with no room for mistakes, demands every ounce of strength, and before long I was empty—drained of self-confidence, filled with depression, and left with no focus or energy to fight the negative thoughts. Things seemed to fall out of perspective and into chaos so easily. Every day was a blow-up, then a break-down. I quit social activities and lost passion for things I had loved, like art and piano. My energy continued to drop, and I couldn’t push through school anymore. Believing the lies had turned my life into a tread mill of constant trials. My issues with food were constant. Every day was a struggle—one I usually lost. Sixteen isn’t so ‘sweet’ when you’re fighting to avoid the very thing that keeps you alive: food.

I was willing to give what my eating disorder demanded, and I paid the price. My unhealthy mindset took hold of my physical health. Seeing I was undernourished, exhausted, and depressed, my parents began to search for serious help. I saw doctors, dietitians, and psychologists. Anorexia transformed into bulimia. Food became a release and a curse at the same time—binging to relieve stress, purging to ease the guilt, and lying to cover all of it up.

The health risks were high, but this merciless cycle would not stop on its own. My eating disorder wove itself into almost every part of life; it felt virtually impossible to escape. After being hospitalized twice, my doctors strongly recommended residential care. They told me I could have died—I was killing myself. They laid out the facts and I nodded my head. I tried, but still couldn’t beat it. WHY?!

I know now that because “being thin” came first, I had given it permission to take full reign…and it became my dictator. Believing the lies meant suffering for them: I hurt my family, lost time with friends, fell behind in school, disconnected from group activities, and began to feel worthless in every way. What I believed is what I lived out. My heart was far from trusting in the truth, so I couldn’t be real with my family, therapist, doctors, psychologist, nutritionist, or friends. I lost my parent’s trust, I lost responsibility for my actions, and I lost control of my life.

The worst was seeing my family hurt because of the lies I told. After putting my family through so much, I felt like I didn’t even deserved to be healthy or happy anymore! It seemed like there was no way out; and if there were a way out, I certainly hadn’t earned the right to take it. I stubbornly believed that being miserable was the justice I was due. I felt like I had the word “FAILURE” plastered to my forehead.

Those were the lies I listened to.

Living with the Truth

What I believe was the true beginning of my path to recovery, and the end to the lies and guilt was a prayer—taking a breath, stepping back, and asking God to give me a real good look at what my life had become. Being ‘well’ seemed so far off and the lies were louder than ever, but the Lord’s love was louder than all the negative voices…and it was what I started to hear.

Honestly, I think the frustration, hopelessness, and struggles were necessary in order to show me what I didn’t want my life to look like. I was tired of only ‘getting better’; I wanted to be well. I don’t think I really knew how sick I really was until I started to actually feel better; and I don’t think the word ‘disease’ adequately describes the darkness that invaded me person physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. That is why it takes more than every part of me to beat it—to truly heal, I need the Lord.

Recovery started for me with a step in the right direction: a step into truth, and out of darkness; taken in hope and faith—a step towards Jesus. Over Christmas break in 2007, I experienced a change. I didn’t just put on another mask; it felt like I put on a new life…completely. I chose change, because I wanted life, I wanted health and energy. I wanted normal teenage stuff! God gave me peace, trust, and the ability to let go. He showed me what is right. Healthy feels good! And to my surprise, it doesn’t equal “fat”—how about that! The truth is stronger than the lies, and the Lord backs me up every step I take in the right direction.

But it’s not always easy. Walking His way is something I have to choose every day. Being truly healed isn’t impossible—but it isn’t perfect either. For me, that was difficult to understand. The world around us screams false “ideals”, and I have to keep my defenses strong against them. I still struggle, I still have bad days, and I still have to fight the thoughts. I can’t always avoid the dangers, but I can always choose how I react to them.

God, my family, and others that love me want to forget and move on when I make a mistake. But this, I’ve got to admit, is one of the hardest things for me to do. I see now that the only One who will never fail, always be there, love unconditionally, and speak pure truth is the Lord. The longer I stand against the lies, the longer He has to heal and strengthen my defense. God knows what my heart craves: more energy; more passion for using the gifts he’s given me; better, truer relationships with my family; more time with good friends—just more of life! Believing that I have purpose floods every part of my life with light and hope.

“’For I know the plans I have for you,’ says the Lord, ‘they are plans for good and not disaster, to give you a future and a hope.’” -- Jeremiah 29:11

I am not here to be perfect. I am here to be my best and live my fullest on the path God sets before me. Every day that I choose to trust in Him, reject the lies, and receive the truth, I claim a victory. There is no life without truth, and no truth without the Lord. I strive to walk, rest, and fight in Him.

I believe God has answered my question: “why do I have to struggle with this?” As an 11-year old, I was assigned to memorize a Bible verse which has recently become my focus for life: James 1:2-4 “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature, and complete, not lacking anything." I believe God uses my lowest points and most shameful failures as a motivation to help me see a way out, a better life—one I could fight for and win. As I continue to follow the truth, it is so exciting to watch God work in my heart and in my life.

Imperfections come with being human; accepting them comes with being His.

My "TRUE" Statement:

I won’t dwell on my failures and imperfections; I choose to believe in the truth: that God has a plan for my life—He wants me as His living creation, not a slave to self-destruction.

Next Story: Jennifer