Deep and Wide

If you grew up going to Sunday school and church like I did, you may recall a children’s song that is sung like this, “Deep and wide, deep and wide, there’s a fountain flowing deep and wide.” The song was written in the late 1800s by Sidney Cox, a major in the Salvation Army. It is based on the scripture reading: Ephesians 3:17-19. God’s love is the kind of love that is difficult to fully grasp. I’m a very visual person, so I imagine myself standing on a ship that is far out to sea, staring at the vast expanse of the waters, deeper than I can fathom and no sight of a shore for miles and miles.

I don’t think I had a good understanding of His love for us until I became a parent. My heart burst wide open and made space for these two wonderful children that God entrusted to my husband and me. Watching them learn and grow is so amazing; seeing them hurt is like nothing I can describe. Once you become a parent, you’re forever walking around with part(s) of yourself out in the world, unable to fully protect them from the waves that will try to swallow them up. All I can do is teach them how to remember their anchor and hold fast to the truth, and that with it, they can handle any storms that come their way.

It’s easy to lose our way sometimes, though; I know this firsthand. My pride takes over and I want to believe that I’m in my own personal rowboat, with no Captain or crew and no one to chart the path for me. I’m just peacefully rowing along, close to the shore where it’s comfortable, coming and going as I please without affecting anyone else. The problem is that’s not how it works. We were created for connection. A rowboat won’t last in a strong storm, but a large ship with a Captain and Crew will. Don’t get me wrong, independence is generally not a bad thing, but it can create mental and spiritual turmoil when we try to go through life on our own, especially during tough times.

For a long time, that is how I lived with my eating disorder. I put a wall up around myself and convinced myself that it was there to protect me, not to keep others out. I wasn’t intentionally trying to isolate myself or push people away, but that’s what ended up happening. I was so caught up in the twirling maze of my self-destructive thoughts and behaviors that I couldn’t see a way out. Even after I accepted the fact that I needed help, I went through treatment as though it were a checklist for me to get through, not the start of a journey back to peace. I finished my partial hospitalization program and pushed through the subsequent 18 months of no training and no racing, then came bursting out of the gates full force.

I continued going to therapy and support group, but I wasn’t sure I believed that full recovery could be mine. I wasn’t ready to accept that my competitive nature and perfectionist tendencies would have to change if my running and racing were going to be healthy again. My first race back was low-key as it should have been, but four months later, I was planning and training for two marathons and a 50K in a 6 week-period. Three months after that I continued training for a February marathon, even after sustaining a very painful chest wall injury. It felt like I was riding a rollercoaster of intense training with plenty of running highs and endorphins, followed by an offseason of depressed moods and unhealthy binge/restrict cycles because I hadn’t faced the true roots of my eating disorder. I was going through the motions, thinking I was “recovered enough.”

I always had this low-level sense of unease and frustration but I tried keeping it hidden or rationalizing why I felt that way. As you can imagine, this wasn’t sustainable if I wanted to be truly healthy and fully present and engaged in a life worth living. I began working with an eating disorder specialist in addition to my counselor. We dove deeper into the nitty gritty of my eating disorder thoughts and behaviors. I worked through a body image workbook that involved some extremely uncomfortable exercises that helped me grow in ways I am so proud of now. Think of being in a body you’ve never truly loved, all alone and in front of a mirror. I was finally really looking at myself and allowing the yucky feelings to change into more rational, descriptive words or phrases. My body is just a vessel, after all. I have bought the lies society tells us as women for far too long. Is my body perfect? Far from it. But it’s still worthy-not because of how it looks or doesn’t look, but because it’s part of me.

As I neared the end of my workbook, however, I felt stuck. It felt like I was repeating words and phrases about my body and my looks without anything actually changing. I’m no fool, so I know this is something that will take time. But it still felt like something was missing-my relationship with food, exercise, and my body are all light years from what they once were. I’ve been making better choices on a more consistent basis than I have for several years, but I still have days where I don’t like myself very much. If it’s not about the eating disorder, what is it? I realized I needed to keep doing the work and improve my overall self-image, not just my body image.

It’s taken me a long time to accept that I might be neurodivergent and perhaps this explains some of my struggles with finding a stable and fulfilling career. Have there been other factors like moving a lot and a crappy economy? Sure. This doesn’t change the fact that my lack of purpose and direction has been eating away at me for a long time. I really thought school counseling was IT-my calling and my passion. Lately, I’m less sure. I haven’t worked as a School Counselor for over three years now. My volunteer time as a Case Manager at New Day Women’s Clinic has been a huge blessing in this journey of finding my purpose. The people I’ve met are some of the kindest, most compassionate and talented people you could ever hope to meet. I love meeting the many different women who come to us for support and resources. If I’ve helped even one person believe that she is capable of caring for and loving her baby, then I know it’s all been worth it.

Now that I’ve digressed a bit, let me bring it back. I know that life hurts. We lose people close to us, we lose opportunities and dreams, our bodies and our minds may betray us at times. Sometimes I feel like I’ve always been able to handle physical pain well, but emotions have always been harder for me. Physical pain is easier to measure and there’s often a way to estimate when it might end. Emotional pain is more complicated and messy. Thankfully, I’ve worked hard at learning effective ways to cope with my feelings and ride the waves. No feeling will be permanent and I don’t have to let them get the best of me. Am I always successful at this? Absolutely not. Will I keep trying and sharing myself with others to help normalize these things? Yes and Yes.

Love and light to you all, Friends. ❤ ❤