Three years.

Three years. It seems so surreal. But this third year, for so many different reasons has been quite the year indeed. 

As I’ve been thinking about what I was going to say for this third year post, I honestly felt at a loss. Mostly because it’s like, where do I even start? So once again, what a year. 

It’s interesting because this time last year I had just been put at the top of the list for inpatient treatment for an eating disorder. Now at the time I thought it was gonna be a quick fix, in and out within the month and back to normal life. I was so beyond mistaken. 

I’ve been actively pursuing treatment now for the last 12 months. And it has been the most challenging thing I have walked through.

Over the last year I’ve been reflecting a lot about the past which has involved a lot of reading of old journals and a lot of processing what has happened specifically over the last three years

Losing Mike was the tipping point after years of trying to hold myself together. It was the thing that pushed me over the edge and face first into depression, anxiety and an eating disorder. All things that were there before, but before losing him, I could easily compartmentalize these things and live a somewhat ‘normal’ existence. One where I could be what I thought everyone wanted me to be. Okay. Held together. Not overwhelmed by my mental health struggles.

But loss. But grief. But facing the biggest disappointment of my life. 

Suddenly the life I thought I had built for myself began to crumble to the ground. At first it was being open and honest about depression. It was facing up to the fact that it was a real struggle - coupled with anxiety and intense suicidal ideation - a struggle that went on for years. . And honestly, I thought by coming clean about these - by bringing them into the light - things my life would somehow be easier. 

Yet here’s the thing, the entire time I could hear the Father whisper to me, babe, we still have work to do. And I knew exactly what he was talking about - the eating disorder - yet I would continuously say to Him, ‘but I’m not ready.’ And because of how gracious He is, because of how kind and loving I honestly felt Him say, okay. When you’re ready.

It was always on the back of my mind. I questioned heavily if I really even fit the eating disorder quota. I felt like I didn’t. I just felt like it was something I struggled with - self image. That’s it. Little did I know how rooted my life was in the illness. And so finally, after a relapse, I realized that this was bigger than I had maybe first admitted to. So I began to be honest with people. It started with my psychologist, my endocrinologist, then my family doctor, and then my pastors. These were the only five people in my life who knew the struggle I was facing. Now obviously my doctors immediately wanted to get me referred into our local eating disorder program, but I was afraid and still so hugely caught in denial. My psychologist and I really began to dig into all things eating disorder, but even she suggested that maybe I pursue specialized help. And my pastors, they just loved me along the way. Encouraged me when I needed it, said the tough things too - but they knew ultimately it was up to me to decide what I was going to do and they made it clear they would support me with whatever decision I made.

Fast forward to February of last year. I knew I was dying. I knew the illness was destroying me from the inside out. I suddenly became desperate for help. And honestly, by God’s timing I was admitted February 24th and began the incredibly hard journey of facing up to an eating disorder and how it had so deeply entwined itself into my life. 

I had no idea how sick I was until suddenly I couldn’t act out on certain behaviours especially the months that followed my time that I was admitted inpatient. Suddenly living a “recovered” life seemed a lot more difficult.

After countless ups and downs, what has felt like life hitting me from every side I can now say my mood is the most stable it’s been in years. My health is also the most stable it’s been in years. As of yesterday I transitioned out of the day program I’ve been a part of for the last nine months. Not to say it’s done, not to say I’m cured and this is it, but rather, for the first time I’m fighting for myself.

It’s here where I’ve realized this: I’ve fought for so many people in my life. I’ve fought for them to have hope, for them to know Love. I’ve given myself again and again to make sure everyone around me was happy and somewhat okay - whatever that looked like. I sacrificed my health for others and their emotional wellbeing.

And I’m brought back to when Mikael was in the hospital. 

How easy it was for me to put on a brave face and do what I could to fight for my brother's life. I ran a blog that was literally called “The Fight for Mike”. And at the end of the day my biggest fight was to make sure everyone around me knew that hope was real, even amidst the darkest of days. And not only that, but to allow my life to be put on display in order to say, “my God is real, He is love and whatever the outcome He is good.” 

But strip away everyone around me and behind closed doors I was a mess. Especially after his death. Honestly, at first it was easy to hold onto faith and hope. But as time went on, that crumbled. Especially once I fully relapsed.

It wasn’t until I fully hit rock bottom that I realized I could not do life with an eating disorder. It also took for me to ignore Jesus for a bit. The two combined left me so hopeless and without any purpose. I had no reason to fight. 

But now - now I realize that all along it’s been about me realizing my potential. Realizing my worth which is found in Jesus. And remembering the dreams we’ve had together; Him and I. 

What’s crazy to me is that it’s been through Mikael’s death that I have discovered life. This is where redemption takes place. This is where God has taken something so broken and shaped it into a story of healing and hope.

For the first time I feel like I am fighting for myself. I am fighting for me. For the dreams I have that seem impossible. For the love I have for creativity. For the free spirit that Jesus has put in me. It’s the fight for me. And I’m here for it. I’m ready. 

My journey through an eating disorder isn’t totally over. I still have lies I need to break and thought patterns that need to be changed and according to my psychiatrist many years of therapy (insert a chuckle here). But I’m ready. I’m tired of living in fear. I’m tired of living with something in my head that’s constantly telling me how worthless I am. 

Instead I’m relearning what it is to live life with Jesus. With Him by my side. With Him in every moment. Not denying the hard things that happen, not denying the hard emotions, but instead curling up in my Father’s lap and facing them together.

Not only that but it’s been a combination of hard psychological work, finding the right meds and learning emotional regulation skills. So combine those with Jesus - world look out.

But seriously, He is so faithful, so patient, so kind even when I question why it seems like things keep happening; hard things at that.

And so, for what feels like the first time I can truly say that from my heart to yours, here’s to fighting for what is right. Here is to fighting for ourselves, realizing that in loving ourselves, we only open up to more love for others and from others. 

And instead of being afraid of grief, here’s to learning from it. Not denying it and the many emotions it brings, but welcoming it.

And, from my heart to yours, here’s to the fight for me. 

I wanted to give a shout out to my recovery team. To the leading staff - Dr. O, the psychologists, the dieticians - and the nurses with the Eating Disorders Program at the U of A. They are incredible people who are fulfilling a great need which is providing many women, men and kids alike with the help they need. Eating disorders are a sinister illness and I now know first hand how difficult it is to pursue recovery. I also now know many amazing people who struggle with this illness. Beautiful, amazing people who deserve so much more.
I can confidently say I would not be where I am today without the programs help. I will forever be thankful for them and am thankful for their continued support.

And to my family and friends who have walked with me during these last 12 months - I love you - thank you for your patience and love.