The Lost Boy

I lost myself.

Marriage was supposed to be a place where I found myself and was able to trust in who I was.

But I didn't.

A few years into my marriage, I lost who I was. I became Peter's wife. I wasn't funny to him. I was just a stay at home mom. I didn't feel like much nor did Peter treat me like I was much.

I'd leave the house with friends and see glimpses of who I used to be but it wasn't the same. I still wasn't me. I was often worried about the future because Peter didn't know how to grow up. Peter couldn't provide for us the way he always talked about doing.

Peter was a lost boy. Peter is a lost boy.

Lately Peter has been so nice. We talked on the phone about all of the amazing things the kids are accomplishing and it felt like the old Peter---the guy I married. I was confused because talking to him made me smile. I wanted to push it down and throw it away because I just cannot handle the confusion of Peter.

And then tonight, I had asked Peter a sincere question via text message and he threw some of the stupidest, nastiest comments back at me.

This is life.

But I learned something after our petty conversation tonight. I am not lost like Peter anymore. I am a different person---the same person but stronger, smarter, and more caring. I don't let Peter's crazy bother me the same way it used to when we were married.

When we were married, I would worry about which Peter was going to walk in the door at the end of the day. Would it be the kind, caring Peter or the irate, impatient Peter? I'd wait for it every night. I'd hope it was the kind Peter because I was usually exhausted from being with the kids all day but more times than not, it would be the impatient Peter. He would walk in, complain about work, and retreat to the bedroom for the rest of the night. I'd get no help, no sympathy, and certainly no physical affection.

I think about those nights and wonder how often Peter was viewing pornography in our bedroom, while our children ran around the family room and I sat on my computer because I was in dire need of a break. I wonder how many times he was choosing fake women over a real wife.

I'm real. They are not. Pornography is mechanical love. I am real love.

Peter has complained that it happened because I wasn't there for him. I was doing things for the kids too often and I didn't give him any attention. I used to believe him but when I think back, I realize just how wrong Peter is. He didn't even give me a chance. He wrote me off because I was the mother and the housewife. He chose mechanical over real because he was addicted, not because I wasn't there for him. I've learned about addiction and realized that it doesn't matter how often I would've thrown myself at Peter, he still would've struggled. He still would've looked at pornography.

Real love lost and in the process, I was left to feel alone and deserted most nights.

Sometimes when I'm feeling extremely alone as a divorced woman, I remember back to when I was alone in my marriage.

Being alone is really hard for me. It's taken a lot for me to get to a place where I like my independence. I crave romantic relationships because I have faith that I can find something real---and I want to find it. But I don't know how or when or if I ever will. So right now, I'll find solace in the fact that I am liking parts of my independence. It is teaching me a lot about me. It is helping me find myself.

I may feel lost sometimes but I am not lost---because I know who I am and I have faith that there is a specific reason I am on this earth.

Control

Addiction is like a gaping wound that is hard to close.

I tried, dear friends. I promise I tried. I tried to keep my head afloat and sense when my body was feeling uneasy and question why it was happening. I tried to be ok with even the stagnant number on the scale--because stagnant is better than weight gain. I tried.

But it caught up to me. Ed's lies caught up to me.

I reached out (a very good choice for an addict) and was met with love, support, and suggestions---and every suggestion felt overwhelmingly heavy.

I bought groceries (another thing I don't do often when in addict mode) and tried to plan meals and take control.

But I still felt out of control. No matter what I do, I feel at least a little bit out of control.

Control issues, much?

As I was driving in the car the other day, a thought came to my mind. Wendy, just stop telling people about your struggles and you will continue to lose weight. Speaking out about your eating disorder is what has caused you not to lose any more weight. Speaking out has caused you to believe them over me---and who has shown you how to gain control and lose weight? I have.

It was Ed. I went back and forth with the idea to just stop telling people. I went a few days in complete addict mode. But today, I remembered how much I hate deceiving and lying and not being genuine. Addicts aren't genuine. They can't be. Everything is hidden and shameful.

Hiding is when I know I'm back in eating disorder hell again. Hiding was how this all started. I didn't tell people I was struggling on day one. I let it seep out slowly and the more it seeped out, the more I felt like I could fight this disorder.

So I'm trying to come back and I'm really scared. I am scared that this is my life and my fight. I don't like it.
I'm scared because I don't understand myself. Sometimes I am so extremely confident and it isn't an act. I can talk myself out of feeling self conscious in most situations. So why do I struggle with this particular addiction? I don't feel like I have a normal eating disorder---but really, what the hell is a normal eating disorder?! I kind of hate that they're all different because nobody can fully relate to me.

But then I remember Christ and the pain He suffered for me. Tonight, I'm going to hold really tight to that and remember His promises and sacrifices that were made specifically for me.

I don't know how I'll get through this---but I'm still hopeful that I can.

When Answered Prayers Dont Make Sense

When Peter left me, I fixated on how this was my fault. I was a stupid 18/19 year old girl who made stupid decisions and ignored stupid red flags. I was simply stupid.

I would tell my therapist this every week. Why couldn't I have chosen differently? Why couldn't I have asked him more questions? Why couldn't I have known better than to marry an addict? And she would always tell me, "Wendy, you need to forgive yourself for not knowing then what you know now."

Deep down, I knew that. I knew there was no way I could've known better. I was young and in love. And the most confusing part of all of this was that I prayed about whether I was supposed to marry Pan and I received very strong Spiritual answers that he was to be my husband. So young and stupid or not, I had done what I thought was the best decision for my life.

This made me angry for a while after filing for divorce. Why the hell would it be right to marry this psycho addict who had hurt me so deeply? Why would I receive an answer to prayer to marry this man?

And I've come to a few conclusions.

I received an answer to prayer to marry Pan because it was right to marry Pan.

Peter had free agency and could do with that whatever he wanted. He could choose to leave me, even if it was right to marry me.

I think that's something I've always had a hard time with and something my Heavenly Father is trying to teach me through trials. Sometimes Satan's plan of control looks really appealing to me. I like having control in my life and free agency just kind of freaks me out because nothing is certain!

Satan's plan probably would've made it so I'd still be married but I wouldn't have the intelligence that I have or the trust in God and I'd probably be more confused as to what my purpose on earth is.

No matter how easy Satan's plan would be, easy doesn't make it good.

I still have sincere faith that I received an answer to prayer 8 years ago that I was supposed to marry Peter Pan for time and all eternity. I look back and when I think about the promptings and feelings I had, I don't blame myself for the choices I made---because they were still right.

It all ended kind of sucky but that's ok. I have learned to be ok with free agency for others because I wouldn't want to trade my own free agency for anything. I love having the opportunity to learn and grow and find out who I am and why I'm here.

Divorce isn't as scary as I thought it would be. From the outside looking in, divorce kind of looked like a death sentence. It was something I feared since the beginning of my marriage when things got hard. It was this dark cloud that loomed over me when Peter walked out on us and left me to decide if I was going to file the actual paperwork while he pranced around like a teenage boy.

But divorce isn't the end. Divorce has taught me that I can have new beginnings any time I want. I can wake up any day and decide to start something new. I can make things happen in my life. I can put a genuine smile on my face.
And from the outside looking in, people might be confused that I'm "dealing" with this so well and it's ok that they don't know what I've been through and what I'm going through. It's ok that they don't see the dark nights and that they think I'm super strong and amazing all of the time. This isn't me being fake.

I really am happy today.

So today, I'll smile.

Addiction Won't Win

I've been happier lately---a real happiness that I didn't have to work as hard to find each morning. But it still isn't the lasting happiness I'm hoping for.
I went a week, a whole week, without acting on my eating disorder. It felt so huge. It felt so amazing. I've been a prisoner to the mind games of bulimia for over 8 months and I felt a little bit more free. But I also felt panicky the first few days. I also felt a lot of fear to step on a scale. I felt sadness when my clothes weren't as loose as they have been.

Since that week, I've slipped up every few days. But my goodness, when I look at where I was and where I am, one slip every few days is kind of amazing. That being said, I'm still so worried. My brain hasn't just started loving my body because I stopped throwing up. That part is still pretty prominent in my daily thoughts. I know I've gained weight and that makes me want to spiral.

Weight gain = not good enough. This is the thought I need to fix in my brain. If God can love me at any weight, why can't I love myself? And why can't I believe that someone else could love me?

I do see a brighter future ahead. I see it and I understand that it is possible. Fighting Ed is more possible than ever before and I can do this. I can love the body that is a part of me. I can love the wild, obnoxious, and often times hilarious personality within me. I can love the sensitive, compassionate, and caring side of me. There are so many pieces that make up me and I am going to learn to love each and every one of them.

Because I'm unique and I love that. I don't want to be a cookie cutter of someone else. I don't want to look or act like other people because I am not them. I want to be me and be ok with that.

My addiction will not win. I am a fighter and I'm strong enough to handle an eating disorder, an addict ex husband, two rambunctious kids, full time school, and 3 part time jobs---because I am STRONG!

I don't necessarily believe God gave me this life because He knew I could handle it. I think God gave me this life because He knew how much this life could teach me and make me a better me and He promised that He would never leave, even on the crappiest of days---wait, ESPECIALLY on the crappiest of days.

I'm going to continue to fight. It won't be perfect or pretty or the same as anyone else's fight but I can make it. I am going to make it.

Like A Boss

It has been an incredible week. An incredible week filled with good days and bad days---but every day has brought an experience I have learned from. Every day has taught me something about myself and brought a little bit of hope to my soul.
I had forgotten what believing in myself felt like.

Today I believe in myself. I believe I have worth. I look at dating and am determined not to settle. I believe I can bring something to the table in a relationship.

I'm not saying this will last forever or that I won't struggle. I'm not saying I love every inch of myself. I still struggle with my body image daily but today, I believe in my capabilities and I even believe a man could overlook my body imperfections if he truly sees the kind of person that I am.

I feel worthy of love today. The things I usually easily love about myself are back in plain view. I didn't have to search to find them this morning. They were just there.

My fear is that this won't last. My fear is that I still have spirals and hurdles to overcome.

But today I feel the possibility of healing. I do not want to be affected by divorce my entire life. I am a determined person. I will not let my past decide who I am supposed to be. I will fight my body image issues. I will fight pornography. I will fight for my friendships. I WILL FIGHT FOR MYSELF.

Because I am worth it.

I Choose NOT to Give Up

I stare at that quote a lot. I question it a lot. Because I often do feel like I give up on myself. When I listen to the lies of my eating disorder, isn't that giving up? It sure does feel like it.

The day Peter told me about his pornography addiction felt like a normal day. I didn't ever cry. I didn't really freak out. In fact, other than texting a few close friends to tell them about it, I did nothing. But the next day, I started getting chest pains every few hours. I'd be driving and I wouldn't even realize I was thinking about his addiction but all of a sudden, I'd feel short of breath and my chest would hurt. I was having small anxiety attacks multiple times a day but I brushed it off because, well, I do that!

A few days after that started, I began to convince myself that I am a hard person to love. I started pulling away from my faithful friends who have been there from day one and I started overly obsessing over my new friendships from The Togetherness Project. I told myself that only the Togetherness people could love this "new me" because they had all been where I was and on days when my new friends weren't available, I sunk really far into myself and was even more convinced that people have a hard time loving me. I didn't realize it consciously at first but I was pulling away from my two best friends and slowly shutting them out of my life.

I didn't realize how bad it had gotten until last week, when a third friend mentioned that my friends were feeling abandoned and hurt by me. I had done the very thing I was so afraid of people doing to me. My immediate reaction was panic and guilt. How could I have done this? I am a horrible friend. I was afraid of contacting them and in most situations, I would've just given up because I don't like any type of confrontation. I stewed over it for a day before realizing that the person in my head telling me I was a burden to my friends is a liar. I was choosing to listen to Satan and he wanted me to abandon the supportive people in my life.

So I broke free. I apologized. I cried. I did things that are hard for me to do because my friends are worth it.
My friends are worth it.
My friends were the shoulders I cried on the night Peter left me. My friends were the people who showed up when I was crying over how much I had started hating myself. My friends were the first people (besides a therapist) that I told about my eating disorder starting to consume me once again. My friends have taken my children countless times and cleaned my house and had me over for dinner and let me hang out when I was feeling lonely on weekends without my kids. My friends have been there through all of this. They never abandoned me.

Satan wanted me to worry about them abandoning me and so I started to abandon them slowly to detach from the pain I thought would be coming in the future.

Although I was feeling panic and guilt about this last week, my heart feels lighter today as I think about the apologetic conversations I have had with my friends over the weekend. I treated them poorly and they allowed me to come back. I made the wrong choices and they gave me the opportunity to start making it right.

My friends mean everything to me. My faithful friends and my new friends are some of the biggest blessings in my life and I am so grateful that I am surrounded by all of them. But I owe so much of my blessed experience to my two very best friends. I am so glad they love me. I am so glad they want to help me. Today, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world to be friends with my friends.

I've learned from this experience that I am not going to give up on myself. If other people stick with me through some really stupid decisions, I feel like I can stick with myself too. This journey has been so hard and it will continue to be hard but I am not going to give up. Because "if it's worth doing, it's worth doing poorly."