Having an Eating Disorder in the Church.

This is a heavy topic, but hang in there with me while I do my best to shed light on the disconnect between the church and mental illnesses. Now I haven’t been to seminary, nor have I attained my Psychology degree; I am just here to share my personal experience through my recovery. Enough with the disclaimers already, let’s jump right on in…

I cannot tell you how many times I prayed for God to take this away from me, how many times I repented for not seeing myself through God’s eyes, how many times I tried to use Scripture to keep me from using behaviors. But no matter what, my eating disorder was all consuming. Why was God not helping me? The shame I felt for being a Christian with an eating disorder was enormous because I knew that my actions weren’t in line with my faith. I believe that God offers grace, compassion, and love to all those who accept Him. However, my life was defined by self-punishment, destruction, and hate.

Question: Why couldn’t I apply my faith to my eating disorder?

Answer: Because My Eating Disorder is NOT a sin.

I do acknowledge that part of my disorder stems from sinful thoughts (for example jealousy of someone else’s body), but the actual disorder itself was not a sin. Mental illnesses are NOT spiritual battles—they operate outside the spiritual realm. It helps me to look at the science. It is scientifically proven that people with eating disorders have neural pathways leading to different parts of their brain than normal when thinking and making “decisions” about food. These physical changes in the brain prove that eating disorders are not just a heart issue, but a mental issue that is bigger than the church. (Look up the research. It’s really fascinating!)

Now you might be thinking: The church offers counseling services, why did you need to look outside the church for help? My response would be because, I needed to separate the two. I was stuck in shame that I was not able to use solely my faith to recover. I needed an outside source that would provide neutral grounds to untangle the two. And honestly, I needed way more help than pastoral counseling could provide.

Because my eating disorder is not a sin, it is NOT something I will have to struggle with my whole life. I cannot tell you how many Christians have told me that my eating disorder is just an effect of my sinful nature, so it will be something I will struggle with forever. That is a complete lie. And it was probably the most hurtful thing someone could tell me, because I knew that I couldn’t live with this disorder my whole life…this disorder would kill me. Since eating disorders are mental illnesses, people are able to fully recover. Let me say that again: You can FULLY RECOVER from your eating disorder. Think about again in terms of science. Through therapy, DBT, and CBT, you can “rewire” the brain and form new neural pathways that cause healthy behaviors. I am I doing just that as I work to become fully recovered.

So what’s the take away from all of this? If you are a Christian and know of someone struggling with a mental illness, DO NOT OVER SPIRITUALIZE IT. You might think it will be helpful to pray over them for God to heal them or to send them verses about offering up their disorder to God, but that’s not what I really needed and probably not what they really need either. Chances are they are already wrestling with the disconnect between their faith and their actions. Telling them to surrender it to God adds to the shame because they might not be able to do that—not because they are not Christians, but because mental illnesses are illnesses of the...you guessed it. Mind. Not Spirit.

Rather show them compassion. Be the hands and feet of God in the sense that you walk with them through recovery. Support them by offering resources (therapists, treatment centers, etc.) that will help them recover. Educate yourself about the mental illness. Offer a judgment-free space for them to talk to you about their mental illness. And while they are talking, listen, learn, and above all love.

**If you have personal questions, need resources, or want to discuss this further feel free to contact me. There is so much more that can be said about this topic, and I would love to engage in dialogue about it with you**

It's a bird...It's a plane...It's Superman!

Sometimes I like to think I have superpowers. That I can work two jobs, go to school full time, be super involved in my sorority, go to PT twice a week, and oh yeah do that little thing called recovery too. I think this hectic schedule should be easy to manage. But the reality is, I am only human, and I run myself into the ground trying to keep up with this jam-packed lifestyle.

Why do I do it? Why do I take on more than I can bear? Even that question is hard for me to consider because I don’t like to admit I have a cap on what I can handle. However, I have had to face this issue because a lot of my eating disorder lives in the need to always be productive. I’ve come to realize it stems from a place of acceptance and worth, or lack thereof. I’m scared I won’t be seen as “good enough” if I don’t do 101 things. But deeper than fearing other people not accepting me, I’m scared that I won’t be able to accept myself. When I keep myself busy, I don’t have to grapple with the questions of worthiness. I’m scared if I stop the train, the self-hate will be too much for me to tolerate. So it seems easier to equate my worth with productivity and ignore the real issue of feeling undeserving and worthless.

The chaos quiets my inner critic for the moment; but in the greater scheme of things, it just makes the voice that screams “I am a failure” even louder. Inevitably, when I over commit, I have to let go of some things I love. And quitting something, makes me feel like a disappointment.

So what can I do to not feel like I have failed? This go around, I am stopping the cycle before it spins out of control. I am proactively taking time away from my job because I’ve started to notice my eating disorder popping back in. If I continue to let my recovery rest on the back burner, I will most definitely lose things I love and value. My recovery has to come first because I have to be healthy in order to enjoy my other commitments.

And by prioritizing my health, I have the space to truly address the feelings of failure that arise when I face the reality that I do have limits. I am realizing that I am strong enough to combat my inner critic, that I do have the tools I need to manage my emotions. Adding balance to my life and accepting my humanness allows me to be present in my life, instead of running around like a chicken with its head cut off.