Long time, no update. Sorry about that, loyal readers (all three of you).
I spend the beginning of July serving and smiling at Camp Barnabas, a residential summer camp for people with special needs, ages 7-45. It was easily the best week I’ve had in a year. I got the chance to work a beautiful young woman with cerebral palsy and learn about patience and the joy of a Christ-filled life from her. I got to meet a young man with Down’s Syndrome who knows the Bible better than I do. I got to meet and befriend a girl from Russia who was a child of the Chernobyl disaster. I got the chance to discuss addiction and the cycles it runs it with a young man struggling with pornography.
I had the most amazing time, even if I did have to eat poptarts and chicken, and never set foot in the (awesome!) pool once.
When I got back, I had to hit the ground running. I’ve got a new job in the works (more on that when it’s finalized) and had to get all my paperwork in within 24 hours of being home. I got a new tattoo! I’ve been planning and packing for a cruise my sister and I are taking with some friends at the end of the month. I started looking into online master’s programs in hopes that I can find one that will work my job as I pursue a master’s in creative writing.
In short, things are going well!
Except in the eating department. By halfway through the week at camp, I was starting to feel guilty about “how much” I was eating and switched to a cereal and salad diet. By the time I returned home, my eating had tanked to less than 50% of my meal plan. I started getting nauseated at even the thought of eating anything other than fruit (and it only got worse if I actually attempted a starch or fat).
I’m finally starting to get back on track, spurred in part by the fact that I’m on exercise restriction until I am consistently eating 100% of my meal plan. (To say that my ED-brain was pissed about this is absolutely an understatement.)
Today has been better than any day in the past week, but in a freak-out over my [still under meal plan] lunch, I bought a scale. Oh, sure, I justified it. I’m not trying to lose weight, I’m just trying to make sure I maintain at this new job. Or I’m just going to make sure that I don’t gain any more. I still haven’t opened the box yet, in the hopes that I’ll rethink my decision and bring the thing back.
The scale still has SUCH pull over me, and I can’t seem to quit it. Prayers and advice are definitely appreciated.
How have you been, friends?