Hope

I think my body must've known it'd been three years, even though my brain didn't know until a memory popped up on Facebook. 

The anxiety I've felt all weekend has been pretty severe---chest pains, numbing, considering giving up on everything I've worked for. 

I couldn't figure out why I felt that way. Was it a money issue? A friend issue? A parenting issue? A divorce issue? 

I still don't quite know. 

But what I do know is that yesterday marked three years since my deepest heartbreak as a single mom. 

So maybe that played a part. 

When I realized this, I thought back on the past three years and all of the changes and healing that have taken place. 

I lost support. 

I left the church. 

I cut a lot of ties. 

I made new, genuine friendships. 

I came back to church. 

And I realized just how seldom I think about that day anymore. 

A portion of the past three years was spent being kicked down, building myself back up, only to be kicked down again. 

But I've learned how to better dodge those kicks. 

You guys, the remarkable thing is that I'm grateful for everything I've been taught in the past three years. I'm grateful for my time away from my church and the time I've spent back there. I'm grateful for a God who very promptly put healing tools in place when I felt like suicide was the only way to break free from my heartache. I'm grateful for the atonement of Jesus Christ and the ability He gave me to forgive myself for "hindsight" and also the ability He gave me to forgive others for the pain they caused. 

I don't know if that is why my body is feeling so much anxiety right now and I hate that. I hate how anxiety since the court trial has become hard to identify. It comes and goes fiercely, often times without explanation or warning. 

But I know it won't always be this way. I know the effects of the court trial won't last forever, just as the pain and anxiety of three years ago eventually dissipated. 

So at least there is hope. 

Three Years

The odd thing is that I thought this was going to be the 4 year anniversary.

I don’t know why I was adding an extra year on there. Probably because it feels like I’ve been on my own for much longer than three years.

I knew August was creeping up on me. I could feel it even without looking at a calendar.

There’s just something about August, about school starting and schedules changing.

And the night before school, I’m lying in bed and praying for my kids and thinking about another year alone.

Another year where I go to parent-teacher conferences and schedule extra meetings to make sure my son with ADHD is getting the schooling he needs alone.

Another year where I help with homework and book reports and reciting poems alone.

The irony is that Peter left me just 3 weeks into our oldest child’s Kindergarten year so I’ve never really known what it’d feel like to have a spouse more involved with those school activities.

So I don’t know why it always hits me hard in August.

I’ve been doing this all alone since the very beginning.

But this anniversary always hits me the hardest---because it is my D-day. Three years ago, I was in a relationship and since then, I haven’t been.

In fact, I can count on ONE hand the number of dates I’ve been on in the past three years.

I’ve tried. I’ve done the online dating thing a few times and it’ll seem to be working for a week or two and then all of a sudden, one guy will ruin it for the rest by texting me something dirty or I’ll read the profile of a guy who says extremely provocative things in his bio and I take ten thousand steps back and think to myself, “Oh my gosh, being single forever would be better than this!”

Because at least if I’m single, I won’t be getting my heart hurt by the extremely douchey guys that seem to exist in this world.

Another thing that really triggers me about online dating is the fact that 90% of the profiles say they’re interested in someone “slim and slender” or “athletic and toned”. And any time I see that on a profile, I feel like I’m reminded of why I’m single.

And then I have a hard time not listening to ED because it seems like he’s telling me the truth.

It’s just one big ball of frustrations and disappointments and there are days I consider just getting back together with Peter because, you know, he still loves me and maybe he is the only guy who ever will---because am I even loveable? 

I realize how irrational this is. 
Or maybe I don't. 
But I want to realize how irrational this is. 

It's just that dating with an eating disorder is not easy.
I'm pretty sure dating in general isn't easy either though.

So I tell myself most days that I'm ok being alone because, most days, I am.

But some days, it just hits me that it's been 3 years since I've been in a relationship and had another adult living in this home with me.

August is a messy month for so many reasons. 
Six years ago, tomorrow, I was diagnosed with infertility.
Four years ago this month, Peter left the church we were both attending and I felt so scared.
Three years ago this month, Peter walked out on me.
Two years ago this month, I had to stop being a stay-at-home mom and went back to work.
Last year this month, I was dealing with some after shocks of some traumatic events earlier that year. I also started telling others that I was questioning my faith and wanted to attend a Christian church.

August is my messy month and every year, I brace myself for what is to come.

And this year, I found myself quitting my job recently and dealing with some after shock and anxiety from that.

I'm not doing well right now. I'm hanging in there because I know it will get better but I've not been handling life well.

Because my body just senses the unsafety of August and every day feels unsure. 

Thankfully, I've got my tribe of people who are patient with me while I struggle through the shittyness of August.

Thankfully, thankfully, thankfully. 

I'm Afraid

Sometimes I'm afraid.

And as I try to pinpoint what I'm most afraid of, there doesn't seem to be just one underlying thing. In fact, when I try to pinpoint what I'm afraid of, I usually end up anxious when I realize just how big my fears seem.

Right now, I'm living in this limbo and I'm afraid to make a step in any one direction. Every single direction has downfalls.

In the past two years, my faith has wavered more than I thought possible. At times, it has been stronger and at other times, it is dwindling.

Minuscule.

Almost non-existent.

Shit happened this year---too much of it---and although at first it seemed like I was pulling through, I've been left with so many fears. More fears than ever before.

I've questioned how God could allow so much ugliness in our world---in my world. I've looked at where I am and where I want to be and I don't feel like my church is allowing the happiness and peace I am looking for.
I don't feel comfortable with the way things are set up---and the male dominance of my church gives me anxiety.
I don't need the Priesthood for women. I am not a feminist. But point blank, I don't agree with the sexual sins of a woman being confessed to a man alone in a room.

I experienced this in high school when my parents made me confess my sins to the bishop when they found out I had been making out with my boyfriend {This is not a joke...}. I remember how uncomfortable I was in that room alone with the bishop, speaking about teenage feelings and interaction. I hated it. And my children won't be doing that without their father or I in the room.

Ever.

 And after attending a non-denominational Christian church a few weeks ago and feeling so very emotional and peaceful, I started having really conflicting feelings. Because I'm a Mormon---and Mormons don't believe that other churches have the full truth. Mormons get upset when people leave the church, not because they hate them but out of love. And although that seems endearing to have people care so much about me that they'd push for me to keep going to church, I feel like I need this to be my decision without other voices in my head.

I'm worried that I'll lose all of my friends---or at least a lot of them---and after the year I've had where so many people believed ugliness about me in the midst of some circumstances that were out of my control, losing friends now would be devastating. I'm honestly still dealing with the after effects of what happened in March. I still feel like so many people hate me and judge me and blame me. And if they don't hate me, they sure aren't reaching out to make sure I'm ok---those kinds of friends have been few and far between.
So losing the people I DO have would be inexplicably heartbreaking.

I'm scared of what people will think of me if I leave. I'm scared of what Peter will think--because when he left the church 3 years ago, I freaked. I was scared for our relationship and how our children could be raised in that situation. I was so scared and if he found out I left the church now, he'd shove it back in my face and I'd feel stupid for fighting for the kids on Sundays and fighting for their baptisms into our church to be a part of our divorce decree.

I fought for something that I won---and now I might be giving it up.

I don't quite know what it is I'm searching for yet but I haven't found it within my church.

And I'm scared.

Because after questioning this deeply on my own for weeks, I told a friend...and then another friend...and then my best friend's husband who is my home teacher...

...and he told our bishop.

And I am meeting with our bishop on Sunday which feels ironic because if he asks, I am going to have to tell him that some of my questions involving the church are directly related to his calling.
My people-pleaser personality wants me to go in and stuff all of my feelings and doubts down and tell him everything is ok. In fact, as open as I am about my life, this subject has been extremely hard to open up about. I think I've spoken to 5 people about it.
But if I don't tell him the truth, I'd be a liar and I wouldn't be representing the kind of person I strive to be.

So I'm trying really hard to open up about my doubts little by little. I'm trying to trust myself and shut out the outside voices. I'm making small plans so that during this 'trial run' of leaving my church, my kids won't be affected.
I plan on going with them every other week and spending the week they're with their dad on my own, figuring out what I want in life and what is going to make me happy.

My belief that "one church fits all" seems to be changing. I don't hate my church and I wouldn't want to actively lead anyone else away from it.
But maybe it isn't for me. Maybe God knows I'll thrive more somewhere else.

And maybe in the end, I'll find myself coming back and realizing that my current church is, in fact, a healthy place for me.

I don't know how or when I'll tell my family or if I'll announce it to my larger groups of friends. I don't know how to feel safe in this situation that feels so vulnerable and scary.

But right now, I don't know what I believe. And I plan on figuring that out somewhere along the way.

My Character

When someone tries to defame your character, you are left with a few different choices. And the thing is, a lot of the choices seem scary and messy.

You can cower down and lose confidence. You can put your trust in the accuser and wonder whether you are really, truly a bad person. 

Or you can do nothing. You can ignore it and live your life, cutting that person out to keep yourself safe from future hurt.

Or you can fight. You can become pissed off and possibly go bat-shit crazy on the person. You can attack their character right back. You can try and hurt them how they've hurt you.

Or...

Or you can fight for YOURSELF. This is different than fighting with the person. You can stand up for yourself when you are attacked and you can prove the person wrong. You can live your life, showing the world your character. You can have compassion for the persons anger and set boundaries that keep you from further harm as much as possible. 

And if you pick the fourth choice, which in most situations I would recommend, you will find who you're real friends are. 

They are the people who hear horrible things about you and question them. They are the people who come and ask you for your side, even if they don't agree with you in the end. They listen and they don't attack you. They don't believe things about you just because someone told them to. 

This is where I'm at right now. A lot of days, I struggle with trusting anyone---because I trusted her with all of my vulnerability. All of it. The deep stuff. The messy stuff. The happy stuff. I was transparent and I still got hurt so deeply. 

So it's hard to feel like I can trust any of my friendships to be genuine. But I'm doing it. I'm fighting for myself and part of that is continuing to trust the people in my life who have supported me. 

Because this trial is not going to ruin me. I won't let it. 

Yes, it has changed me. It has made a lot of things feel horrible and it has left me with a great amount of fear. And fear is hard for me because I live every day with an anxiety disorder that sometimes takes control. 

But ever since that day a month ago, I have worked. And that's all I can do. It doesn't matter that it still feels so scary and messy. It doesn't matter that I'm often afraid or feel anger. Because I'm trying. I'm trying a little bit each day. 

I'm trying to build a relationship with God because I'm putting my faith in the Spirit and it's ability to help me discern safety. 

I can't forget the power of the Spirit and the help my God gave me that day or in the weeks since. I've been so angry with Him but He didn't leave when I yelled. In fact, He surrounded me with extra comfort when I yelled and blamed and asked why. He loves me unconditionally. 

I know I can trust in that.

And I refuse to let this ruin my trust in the people who genuinely love me and support me. I refuse. 

Because I am a good person. I know I did everything I could in the best way I knew how at the time. 

Yes, in hindsight, I'd change a lot of things but that wasn't possible at the time...because I didn't know any of this back then. 

The Worst Day Of It All

Today was the worst day of it all.

Because although I haven't eaten in two days or gotten off the couch or changed my clothes, the ONE thing I wanted out of all this was for my kids to never be involved.

Today I found out they were involved.

Today feels like the darkest day of my entire life.

I hate myself today.
I hate everything today.

Except my kids.

I love my brave kids with all my heart.

The New Bishop

We got a new bishop today.
As I sat in my chair and heard the stake president release the old bishop, I was on pins and needles. I needed this. I had been looking forward to this day for a long time.

As the new names were read, I sunk back down into my chair. My faith had diminished and in it's place, I found myself doubting that this calling was from God.
It couldn't be.
Or could it?
Is this a test of my faith, to have a man called as bishop that I don't believe will be a support for my family?
Am I jumping the gun by not trusting my new bishop within seconds of him being called?

I don't know.

What I do know is that my loss of faith has less to do with the man called as it does the overall callings in my ward. I was taught from a young age that all callings were prayed about but what I've witnessed in the last 7 years in my ward is that the same people get the same :high" callings and everyone else is in primary or nursery.

Our new bishop used to be the second counselor in the bishopric before he was released and called as the Sunday School president. He is now our bishop. His counselors consist of members who have only held either bishopric or other auxillary callings in the past 7 years.

I want to trust "the system". I want to trust that he will be a safety net when I need a priesthood holder. But I don't.

I'm going to try, friends. I really am. I want to have faith. I don't want to abandon the church...and yet, a lot of times, all I want to do is abandon church. It isn't that I have issues with the doctrine. I've never had issues with the doctrine. But I've had so many faith-diminishing experiences with my church leaders.

The bishop that has been my bishop for the past 5 years has always known within 24 hours when a huge trial has hit...and never before has he reached out to me. I reached out to him when Peter went inactive and he counseled us and led me to believe that our trials were because of my infertility. He literally told me that I needed to stop being so emotional about my infertility because it was putting a rift in my marriage.

AS IF I COULD JUST TURN OFF THE HEARTACHE I WAS FEELING.

Since that day, he has never spoken a word to me. When Peter left me, he never reached out. He never even said hi at church. I haven't spoken to him in years and he walks past me every Sunday.

So I was hoping that I'd have some amazing Spiritual experience with my new bishop and I'm kind of disappointed.

I know it's rude. I feel guilty for having these feelings. I want to have faith in him. I want to trust that God knows I need church leaders who can help me in my struggles. I want to believe he is our bishop for a reason.

I hope I get there. I really, really do.

Today I am Wendy

My high's have been higher than I've felt in a year.
My lows are crazy low in comparison.

My heart is angry a lot when I'm alone. Put me in a group of people and I'll perk up. Put me in front of the cyber world of friendship and I'll perk up. Put me in my classrooms at school or at my work desk and it doesn't compare to the thoughts going on in my head.

Am I just an effing crazy person?

Because as I sit and fight for recovery to win again, I truly believe that I love myself. Am I just stupid? I love who I am on the inside. I still don't like who I am on the outside. I am fat. I am truly, by definition, overweight. Am I obese? No. But I'm not skinny.

A lot of my choices at home are stupid. A lot of them directly conflict with my Christian beliefs. Am I just so weak that I can't get my shit together when I'm not being watched?

I'm eventually going to get a tattoo. I know...right?! I have it drawn up. It's just going to happen. But when I found out about Peter's tattoo that he lied about, I flipped out. We were up until 2am fighting that night. So am I just a hypocrite?

A lot of times, I don't feel like I'm genuine because how the hell can I be this awesome serving Christian and in my mind, the most constant phrase that plays is, "Who fucking cares?"? It doesn't make sense.
Like at all.

How can I be angry at Peter for looking at pornography when sometimes I consider just sleeping around because I like sex and I want to feel connection---even fake connection? I hate that I like sex. I know that's ironic. Sex is good. It is natural. It is fun. But I hate liking it because I hate missing it. I hate struggling with the loss of connection. I don't want to struggle. I don't want the struggle to get harder the longer I go unmarried. I thought it was supposed to get easier.

I don't know if there is a bigger contradiction in my life than the fact that I teach my children gospel principles and yet, I struggle to pray. I have a strong testimony and yet, I struggle to go to church. I do not doubt that every word in the scriptures are true and yet, I don't open them up for answers.

I know my Heavenly Father loves me but I don't get why He can't just answer the prayers that I do pray. I don't understand all of this. I wish it weren't so hard.
I can give you every "correct" answer of why I've been given the specific trials in my life. I can point out the blessings from each and every one of them. But that doesn't mean I want them to continue just so I can grow more and get more blessings from hard trials.

I'm done.

I'm done being single and not knowing if there will ever be someone to love me on this earth. Everyone says he's out there. I'm supposed to trust that I'm worthy of a man's love. But have I had a single second date since my divorce? No. Have I kissed anyone? No. Have I had any type of relationship where the guy wanted to be with me more and more? No.

I can trust facts. Facts are facts. They don't need arguing. They just are. So everyone in the world can tell me I'm going to be loved by a man but how am I supposed to trust that? Dream Boy didn't have feelings for me. And I thought I was dealing with that ok but it really freaking hurts. Not because he rejected me. It's ok that he was honest. I kinda like him even more for being honest with me /damnit/. It isn't the simple form of rejection that hurts today. It is the fact that Dream Boy having any inkling of interest would've shown me that love---someday, today, a hundred years from now---is possible. Because I just don't have enough hope that it is. There's a little hope---but each day that passes, a piece of it dies.

I just don't know what I'm supposed to do. Am I supposed to just be perfect and not make any decisions against my religion because that would just make me a liar and put me on the highway to hell? Am I supposed to recognize that I am imperfect and give myself a break? What the hell is my next step? Because the one I choose will probably so freaking contradicting that I am going to go crazy.

Like literal crazy.

There is so much good. I shouldn't be struggling because I am able to recognize the good. I feel like such an ungrateful bitch for NOT acknowledging gratitude in my every day thoughts and actions and feelings.

Today I am Wendy. I am the part of me who is struggling with faith and security and connection. I am the part of me that still gets angry and ignore the empathy I've felt toward Peter's decisions. I am the part of me that is stupid and irrational and unsettled.

Exhaustion

I want this fog to be lifted. I need it to be lifted. Because right now, I just don't think I can do it all---but there just isn't anything I can weed out of my life. I have to do it all. I don't have a choice.

My counselor had to ask me if I was suicidal on Thursday and for some reason, it just hit me hard. I know I'm not. I'm glad she trusts me that I'm not. But the dark feelings that engulf me seem to sound that way.

I told her I wanted to give up, that I was done living this life. And the thing is, I don't quite know what I mean when I say that. I certainly don't mean taking my life but I also don't mean nothing---I guess I mean that I want this to stop being the life I live. I want it to start getting better.

I want the constant exhaustion to go away. I want to be able to provide and take care of my children without being so tired that I can't be a good mother to them at the end of the day. I want companionship and love and trust in my home so I'm not doing this all on my own.

My eyes are bloodshot and I had a migraine that almost caused me to vomit today. It was horrible. It was a sign of anxiety. I went through the motions at church but I didn't want to be there. Every week, I struggle to get up and take my kids. It is only through my testimony that we get there because physically and emotionally, all I want to do is stay home. I don't like being at church. I don't feel anything right now when I'm there. I'd rather sleep or do homework or spend time with my kids. But we still go because I still have a testimony that it is the right thing to do---I just wish that made it easier.

I was feeling really excited that this week, Peter's new job would allow him to take our kids three days out of the week...until he called to inform me that due to training, he actually couldn't take them at all. At all. I wanted to cry. I want to cry. I feel so overwhelmed and I just don't feel like I can make it through another week. But I will. I'll do it because my kids need me to.

I don't know how I'll do it but I will. I'll try not to worry about the dishes in the sink or the smell of mildew coming from the washer full of clothes I put through five days ago. I'll try not to worry about the fact that my six year old makes herself breakfast and packs her own lunch while I struggle to get out of bed each morning. I'll try not to worry about the amount of tv my children watch while I do homework or lay on the couch after a long day of working or being at school. I'm trying to remind myself that I'm still good enough, even though I feel like I'm failing at every single thing in my life.

It isn't always going to be this hard.

Right?

Small Things

Let's talk.

I am seeing a therapist tomorrow.

FOR REALS.

Three months ago, when my financial situation caused a sudden halt in my counseling services, I thought I could do it. I'm strong enough to handle this life and work through my grief and figure out my triggers, right?

I don't think I've ever given my therapists enough credit because I really thought I was doing most of it on my own anyway. I didn't think my therapists were helping enough. I was the one doing the work, right? I'm the one who has to live this life every single day and work through my thoughts and feelings.

But I was wrong. They were helping.

Yes, I do the work. But for some reason, my brain just isn't working properly---and that isn't even a joke.

Sunday was a hard day. I know, do I say that enough!?! Our church lesson was on eternal marriage and I cried---as in, I CRIED IN FRONT OF PEOPLE. If that isn't a sign that I am unstable, I don't know what is. I have just become emotionally hardened and it takes a lot for me to cry. Anyway, so I was crying and my heart was hurting because the lesson hit so close to so much of my pain.

I lost my forever. I couldn't change so many things about my story and most days, all I want to do is change my story. All I want is for my husband to love me for me, to not take me for granted, to not struggle with a nasty addiction that caused him to make some pretty horrible life decisions.

I want to change the fact that he tells people I am crazy and that I took everything he had. Because I didn't leave him. Everything he says is a lie! He portrays me in a way that makes me wonder if he ever could have loved me.

Anyway, therapist! Tomorrow! Pray for me that it goes well. I am seeing the counselor that I have trusted more of my story with than any other person on this earth. I am going back to see the counselor that I made myself stop seeing when my eating disorder was the worst it has ever been. I know that is hard for a lot of my friends to understand. But I feel like it's right for this time and I guess we'll find out tomorrow.

This rambling will have to stop for now because I am trying really hard to do small things in a great way and one of my goals has been to spend more time with my kids--and so far, success!

And little successes are the very things keeping me going. Those and the occasional flowers or visits from friends.

YOU GUYS ARE ABSOLUTELY AMAZING! Every comment on my blog and thoughtful text and message you've sent has been a great thing to keep me smiling on the hardest of hard days.

I love you, friends. I really, really do.

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.

The All-Consuming Lies

I've been thinking a lot this weekend about pornography, my eating disorder, and Satan.
I am a part of a Facebook group of women who are wives or ex wives of porn addicts and we all struggle with eating disorders or disordered eating. I thought this group would be good for me. So many parts of it have been good for me. But I'm still new to all of this stuff.

One of my struggles with our eating disorder group is the things my eating disorder tells me about myself when I read what people post. If someone says they are struggling to force themself to eat that day, Ed tells me, "Wow, Wendy, you are so weak and fat and stupid. You are not strong enough to starve. You give in when you are hungry. And often times, you binge and then either you purge or you don't---but either way, you are a loser. Purging means you're failing at fighting me and not purging means you're going to get fat."

Ed tells me a lot of heavy things when I compare myself to the people around me. He tells me that if I lose 20 more pounds, I'll suddenly feel "good enough". He tells me that I am a horrible mother and that I am the reason Peter was addicted to pornography. He tells me that I should be more self-conscious than I currently am. When I start to feel any amount of confidence in myself, he laughs in my face and tells me the people who say nice things about me are doing so because they feel sorry for me. It's so hard to believe that people say things because they truly mean them. It is so scary to trust people.

At church today, a loud and bubbly woman asked me how I'm getting so skinny. I looked at her with bewilderment. Me? Skinny? Ha! But I told her a friend had referred to this as the "divorce diet" because I just don't have an appetite right now because of stress. It was a lie. I hate lying. I wanted to tell her how I'm struggling with an eating disorder---and not just "an eating disorder" but bulimia, an eating disorder that doesn't come with loss of appetite very often. I wanted to tell her how I hate the girl I see in the mirror. But I have no idea what to say in these situations. I am not ready to just be "the girl with the eating disorder" or "the girl with the eating disorder because her addict husband left her". I want more of an identity than that and I'm afraid if I tell my real story in the middle of my struggle, I will get lost somewhere in there. When I'm stronger and have the confidence to help others with all of this, I know I will be able to tell my story and still be Wendy.

 I'm still here fighting. I still remember my wake up call from two weeks ago. I still remember my meeting with my parents last week. But today, my choices are equivalent to what they would have been two weeks ago. Ed is screaming in my ears how ugly I am. He is yelling at me for thinking my friends are supportive because they like me as a person and not because of pity. I don't feel strong enough to fight him today but I'm trying to do it anyway. I have prayed that Ed leaves me alone and that my Heavenly Father with give me strength to downsize the lies my eating disorder wants me to believe. I have struggled with prayer more these past few months than ever before but today, I needed the one person who hasn't left me during this whole thing and I knew He would still be there waiting for me to come to Him.

Satan and Ed are like the nastiest of twin brothers. Actually, I think Ed is Satan's son.

I will continue to try and fight them. As hard as this is, I will try.

Hello, God, it's me, Wendy

Church was hard today.

I woke up not wanting to go but I decided to go anyway and see if I could feel something. Anything. 

I've never really questioned God. Even as a rebellious teenager, I always had a testimony. So this feels weird, almost bad. I shouldn't be doubting. I shouldn't be losing faith.

I left church thinking that I probably won't go back for a while but I don't know why, nor do I know how. I am not this person. I am not really a questioner when it comes to my beliefs. Having a testimony has always been easy for me. In trials, I turn to God first. I bear my testimony when people want to listen. I help others get through their dark times when they are certain they can't feel God. 

And my visiting teaching partner invited me to go to the temple on Wednesday and all of a sudden, I'm nervous. Why the heck am I nervous? I was just at the temple a week ago and it was fine. 

I'm going through the motions because my emotions are so closed off right now. I'm sure that's why it's hard to feel God---because I'm just not really feeling anything right now. My brain is still in fight or flight mode and it's stuck somewhere in the middle. I'm not fighting and I'm not flighting---I'm just here.

And today, I'm just going to accept that. I'm going to accept that just being here is good enough. I don't know what my worth is and I don't know what I'm going to do tomorrow but today, I am here. I am breathing. My heart is beating. And I am here.