From September 1999 to March 2000, I put my mind to proving that I was well. "You can do anything you set your mind to" is a popular saying; but what is not included in that phrase is that the mind is a fragile and dangerous thing apart from the full mind of Christ. I set my mind to make my body look well, but my mind was ill. I set my mind to prove that I was strong, but my mind was weak. I set my mind to show that I was fixed, but my mind was broken.

Part of "proving" that I was well resulted in rebelling against most of the authorities in my life. At the time, I thought that rebellion was my only choice. I felt like a trapped animal, panicking in a cage that was too small. I rebelled against my parents by shutting myself off from their attempts to help. I rebelled against my psychologist by refusing to do the journaling that she asked me to do. (Side note: writing is one of my favorite things to do, so refusing to journal was actually just another way of hurting myself. Notice a pattern?) I rebelled against my dietician by thinking I could eat better than any meal plan she could outline.

All of these rebellious thoughts were held inside, and I started stuffing my emotions with food. Lots of food. The desire to perform well and prove that I could gain weight to be accepted by my authorities outweighed the voices in my head that were urging me to disappear. But the result was anything but healthy. I started binge eating in secret throughout that spring, and that is how I reached a "healthy" weight and convinced everyone I was fine by March. The real truth was that I was 10 times worse on the inside now that I looked better on the outside.

I continued to have episodes of binge eating many times a week up until high school graduation. I would usually restrict my food all day long, then eat the equivalent of a huge meal for a snack after school, then eat supper with my family, then have another snack before bedtime. My stomach felt quite sour many nights, and it was usually very bloated from the quantities that I would consume so late in the day. I was still in a mode of self-destruction, and I desperately wanted help.

My spiritual life was in as much trouble as my emotional life. I had made some Christian friends by my 12th grade year, but most of my time was consumed with after school activities, band, and homework. Because I didn't know how to express myself and communicate my pain to my parents or my friends, I numbed the pain with busyness. The busyness wasn't intentional, but I also didn't make time for stillness and rest. I longed for rest. I read the passage in Matthew that says, "Come to Me all you who are heavily burdened, and I will give You rest," and I ached for that. Rest sounded like heaven itself. My mind was racing all the time and I swung between adrenaline rushes and guilt in my striving to keep up the facade I had going.

Pretending to be okay is way more work than actually being okay.

By the time I graduated from high school, I was so exhausted that I couldn't fathom studying one more textbook. I wanted to get right with God. I wanted to know what it was like to be satisfied. I wanted to have peace. I felt restless and reckless, and in need of some structure and guidance.

I'll pick up there next time :).