Overcoming the Fear of Falling.

Walking. To most of the world, it is just something you do. You don't think about it, you just get up and go to where you need to be. Others like to hike or take long walks. I used to love to walk. When I was younger I would go for hours in the woods behind my house. Playing and skipping, jumping streams and climbing trees. When I was a teenager, I walked in the woods to enjoy it and find a place of peacefulness. I moved to Philly in 1996 and got married and the first thing Ted did was take me on a long hike through one part of Fairmount Park. It was awesome. I even walked to and from work. Walking was a freedom that I took for granted.
As I grew heavier, my walking became a struggle. I still walked, but had to stop and rest. Take deep breaths. My legs would hurt or my back would hurt. But I kept going. It wasn't until I lost my last job a few years ago that I eventually just stopped. I grew depressed and ate more. But I could still walk short distances and I did. But then one day, I couldn't hardly make it up my own steps. I had to stop and breath. Stop and catch my balance. It grew increasingly hard to do anything even in my own apt. Then, in December of 2014, I had to finally break down and get a wheelchair just so I could go to a conference and to church. I needed a wheelchair because I could no longer hold myself upright without the fear of falling. I could not take 25 steps with out my legs screaming for mercy or my lungs needing to rest. My heart pounding in fear and in need of rest. My mind racing. I was in a bad way. I could see this. I was so scared. The only things going through my mind were wanting to die and wanting to give up. These voices were loud and I knew it was Satan telling me that I was not worth it. I knew it was Satan telling me that God no longer loved me and that I just need to give up. I literally just wanted to die. I was so embarrassed to even be out in public with wheel chair. You can not imagine the thoughts I was having. Like what were people thinking or saying about me. I cried. I cried so hard.
Walking. Walking is hard. I have to hold onto things just to get to another room. I fear that I am going to fall and then what? I don't honestly know if I could get up. I guess I could, it would be an awesome struggle. Painful too. So I fear walking. Just to stand up from my chair can be painful sometimes, using things to pull myself up. But lately I have been doing what I call 'free standing' and 'free walking'. What that is that I have to walk a certain amount of steps with out holding onto something. Get up using only my cane and nothing else. Do you know how hard that is?? I feel like an baby learning to walk again. And the pain... OH MY GOODNESS, the pain that can come with it. I hate pain. It is what makes me want to give up and not go on any more. It is the most dominate loud voice in my head. PAIN!!! Satan trying his best to get me from walking towards Jesus and His open arms. And trust me, I want to sit and not have to move. I want to feel no pain. But where does that get me. Worse off then before. 
I cry... I cry so much anymore. I hate that I have done this. I hate that I listened to those LOUD voices and I hate that sometimes I still do. I hate that I hurt and that I hurt my husband. I hate what I have done to me. 
But that Whisper, so light, so calm. A whisper that calls me Beloved and Beautiful. A whisper that said, "I am here, take my hand. I will walk you through this. I will walk with you. Just take my hand". And I did. I'm not going to say that those loud voices have not went away, they haven't. The devil is a sore loser. And there are days when I still want to quit. Then that whisper comes along like a gentle breeze, touching my face and my hear so gently. Oh, God, I am so sorry, please forgive my for destroying your temple. 
I won't give up. But want too. I won't stop, but I want too. I just want the hurting to stop. I want to emotional ties to be severed and I want the physical pain to go away. I am fighting for my life. Jesus is fighting for me. He is my salvation. And only with Him can I win this. 
Listen, if you have an eating disorder of any kind. Please, get help. Get help now, before you end up like me. Struggling to live everyday. 
God Bless you  all. 

          Isaiah 41:10

Fear not, for I am with you;
Be not dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you,
Yes, I will help you,
I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.’

When Your Husband has Given Up.... or Has He?

I'm fighting to survive here. Fighting to live a normal life. Fighting to walk better, breath better and eat better. I struggle with emotions daily. Sometimes the emotions are so over whelming, that it brings me to my knees and I just cry and cry. I cry out "WHY GOD?", sobbing some more "WHY HAVE YOU LET ME SUFFER SO MUCH? PLEASE, JUST TAKE THE PAIN AWAY!". What kind of pain? Well most of the time it is the kind that is so deep and so raw, you think that it will never heal. Then there are the days that the physical pain is so bad, it is all I can do to just stand up and walk to my own kitchen. And lately, I have been suffering alone. 
I started this fight with my husband and we did good together after we came home from the 'Lose it For Life' seminar. I stuck to my gun and dove straight into week two and Ted just kind of hung back a bit. Week after week, I kept mustering the strength to keep going, then one week I realized, Ted was not there with me. He stopped. Back to his old habits of big lunches, second servings, no fruit, lots of tea and coffee, no water. What happened? I thought we were doing this together. I thought you were supporting me and helping me. I thought we were a team... I thought you were going to give me hope and be there when I fell. I thought you were supposed to be leader and keep me from falling. I thought, I thought,  I thought. I think I thought it was all about me and I forgot him. I forgot to support him. Instead I critiqued him. I was supposed to encourage him, instead I ignored him. I kept this to me... it was all about me... ME!! I wanted to scream at him.. WHY DID YOU STOP HELPING ME??!? I NEED YOU TO HELP ME!!! But he stopped. He just stopped. I couldn't figure it. He wants me to lose weight, right? He wants me to be healthy, right? SO what was the problem? 
Oh.... I forgot about him. I forgot that he was wounded too. That he had a past that he needed help from. I forgot to give him encouragement. I forgot to show him that this journey was for us, not me. What have I done. Did I lose the one person who could be my biggest supporter because of my negligence? Did I push him too much when I got angry at him for over eating and not caring? What have I done? Oh... Ted, I am so sorry. Please forgive me. Is it too late?
No, it is not too late. We just pick up where we lost it a few weeks ago. But this time with out the anger, with out the finger pointing, with out the guilt trips. Instead, we start each day as if it a new beginning. We give each other a chance to breath and share. I need to step back and give him what he needs. I need to support him and encourage him. Ask him why he feels the need to eat more that day, not get angry. I need to change my attitude and remember that is not about me all the time. It is about us and our marriage. It is about making this marriage whole again, one step at time. I'm not the only one in the journey. He is in it too. And he needs me as much as I need him. 
Ted, never gave up on me. I gave up on him and that was the wrong path to take. I never even realized I had done it . I was so into me, that I forgot. Love that man of mine. Love that he never stopped being there for me. Love that he still makes me that special cup of coffee each morning. Love that he tells me no when I want something I can not have. Love that he loves me enough to be the one to show me I was wrong. And I was. 
We can do this together. 
I love you, Ted..........................

Can I Really Keep Doing This? Messing Up.......................

I found myself slipping up these last couple of weeks. I began to not care again. I would still eat healthy, but also unhealthy. Sadly, I even binged twice. It is not easy to admit. Not easy to face. I feel like I am backsliding some. I can blame the weather if I want, I have been trapped sort of in my apt for a few weeks. Getting out is not easy in snow and ice. My balance is not good as it is, can you see me in ice? And trying to push a wheelchair in that mess, not something anyone wants to do. So I have been sort of house bound. I can blame Ted, he has not been around much with his crazy schedule. No time for me. No, I need to blame me and my denial. Denial that nothing wrong and that I can stop and lose weight any time I want, just not today because I am happy with who I am. Yeah, and I believe that one, I could look out my window and see pigs fly. Yup.. that is me denial. And fear. Fear of facing my past and seeing who I really I am and why I am the way I am today. Afraid to face all those demons and hurts that have built up over the years. I have this wall, huge thick wall, that is around me. Not letting anyone in. Not even Ted. I have this fear that if I let Ted in, he will not like me anymore or even leave me. Fear that is eating me alive. And so my dads image comes to me and I want to scream at him. I want to yell at him and ask him why he did this to me. Why did he leave me when I was so little. Then come back, then leave again, and again and again. Why when I was 12 did he tell the bank where my savings was, that I was dead, yes, DEAD, so he could steal my savings. Why did he throw that chair at me. Why did he beat me with that belt. Why?? Why...... and yet, I still loved him and wanted to be daddy's little girl. He destroyed my room once and never said sorry. He never said sorry to me. He was never there for anything important. Once I was hit by a car and instead of seeing if I was okay, he dropped me off at the er and left to go be with one of his many girlfriends. Yes, he did that. More, but somethings, I just can not share. Can not bring myself to face maybe. 
So this is where I am today. I fell of the fence and now I am standing on the wrong side again. I don't make it easy, I won't go through the gate, afraid too. I feel like I need to climb back up on that fence and just sit there again until I am ready to jump into that pasture of beautiful green grass. But for now I am sitting in mud. And I created it with all the tears I am shedding. 
So who do I blame? Me? My past? My dad? No matter who I blame, it is not who I am. I don't want to be my past and I don't want who I am to be defined by the abuse I suffered at the hands of my father. 
Starting over is not an option. I have already started, I just stepped back two or three.... or four........... (okay maybe five or six), but I can get back, I hope. Feeling lost and alone and very much closed in right now. I think warmer weather will help. To open the windows and actually sit outside and walk outside. It will do me good. I hope that Ted and I will be able to spend more time with me. I need to let him in. I need to let him help me. I'm too stubborn for my own good. Too independent. But the main thing I need to do is to let God take control of all the pain and all the hurt and let Him heal me. No more "I can do this by myself" and "I am fine" stuff. I am not fine and I can not do this myself. 
So now I must move onward and forward. Painful as it is, I must move on. Take this next moment that God has given me and heal one piece of this broken heart.