Love is a Choice

Love is a Choice.

That's all I have to say for now. Ponder on that.

Apparently... Life Goes on whether we are with it or behind it... Flowing, Going, and Being.. and Other such things

Sometimes it's easy to get caught up in the backlog of life, and blogs then will suffer.
As mine is, and has, for rather a long, long time now.
There's a lot of things which shall remain unblogged, daresay, for a very long time. But no matter. What better time than the present, and, why feel bad about being behind? (Unless of course it causes you to miss a bus..)

The only thing I have had time to blog about has been the latest projects, and for that I apologise. Photos without text are simly easier to upload, and appear to be updating this place. Hehe.
But, projects aside, life has been very busy for me lately.
Add to the normal chaos the prospect of finding a job and moving home, and, well, it all turns into a flurry of mess, business, and sanity squeezed in the middle somewhere.
Or, rather, the act of maintaining it. (Or finding it? I'm not sure which.)

Of course life involves a lot of art.
As I mentioned before, I am creating a website, which I hope will be my advertising venue for all my forms of art - repaints, Sculptures, and prohetic art sculptures. That's kept me pretty busy, as well as the work which I will be selling on it - getting that all ready, buying supplies, painting, lots and lots of painting.

I have also been collecting, putting together a huge file system of mine for reference photos to use with repaint and sculpting ideas, especially horses and rare animal species and colours. That's actually taking a lot longer than it otherwise might.

Especially when that involves some incredible photography which I must admire.

Add to that the constant need to find something green to give everyone hope in this terrible drought...
(Do not be fooled by the green in this photo, it is all we have left. This whole area has become a desert and livestock - not to mention farmer's livelihoods - are dying - fast. All prayers for rain, feed and God's answers are hugely appreciated.)

Photography is still, of course, a huge part of my life. Recent photographing jobs have led me to this: a bookshelf of challenges which my mum has chosen to read in this year to come. It is part of her and my sister's new website, an inspirational and exciting twist of direction for them both.

http://www.glimpsesofglory.com.au/

Take a look - you may be very surprised!

And, of course, my website also. This one has been slow yet steady, and will be available soon. Very soon.
I am very excited with its progress!

All this aside my other life jobs have been unrelated to photos, so I can't post photos of them... so to speak. Add to that list the usual farm chores, babysitting, making resumes, job searching, painting, writing, more writing, remembering to eat... the list goes on and on.
Praise God I have Him in the middle - and despite the fact I haven't put much up about Him lately, He is, of course, the very air I breathe and part of my daily existance.
Hopefully I shall be more updated and organised, but we'll go how we go.

That's life.

Life, Life, and happiness!

It seems whenever I have something that I want to write, life gets in the way and prevents it. Haha, actually, no, it simply gets written on scraps of paper and forgotten, and doesn't seem to make its way here.

That's okay, but then, I think perhaps it makes things on here fairly photo heavy.
That's okay, too - but with a bit of variety.

I'd love to be able to blog more often. I think a lot of it has to do with not owning a laptop - and the exhausting amount of effort it takes to only use at night (only free time!) a noisy, clunky and bright (ow the eyes) computer.

Well, that aside, I do intend on buying a laptop. It's my hope that will make the difference.

But life has been so busy!

I've been planning, creating, sculpting, painting, making a new website, and loads of babysitting!

There's a lot I haven't put on here, because sometimes it feels like a lot of effort.

I will try, in future, to make my posts more regular and less boring (for some) as possible, with as much variety as possible.

This (may) include some of my recent super allergen friendly recipes! (Not by choice, but they aren't that bad!)

In other news...

Yes! I have finally scored my hard earned Certificate! 4 years later, and plenty of hard work and lots of expense, my love of animals has at last met its qualifications.

That's been a long time in coming.

Hooray times a lot!

I think that part's pretty self-explanatory. 

Happy day.

Sorting Through the Past - Facing It

How long can we avoid things too painful to bring to light again?
As long as we want to, for sure.
But that doesn't stop it being there.

I dealt with a lot while I was sick. But that didn't mean that I dealt with being sick.
A lot has changed - I have found my identity, God has freed me from depression and an eating disorder and fear - but there are always scars. I suppose my scars are scars of scars.

And God has been showing me it is time to heal them too.

To look back at the past 12 months

To see the pain - and the healing of old wounds

And accept what has happened - be grateful for it,

And move on.

It's that moving on which I find the hardest. That looking back to move forwards.

I know where I have come from.

I know where I have been.

It's a terrifying place.

But I also know the promise of tomorrow.

I could live only for tomorrow, but God won't let me. He doesn't want me to be forever scarred by my past, in fear or denial of the worst of the worst places. It is those places which I have to acknowledge the healing of in order to move forward.

I suppose one might say that you have to see the worst in order to understand the best.

To see the hurt in order to accept the healing.

God has healed me of these things. I will never be the same.

I guess the hardest part now is realising how bad they were.

How sick I was.

How much needed healing.

How much pain there was.

And how it will never be like that again.

I don't like looking through photos of me in hospital.
It reminds me of so much, and it is all so fresh.

Most of all, it reminds me of dealing with the pain that had been there for so long.

Sometimes, though, it is being reminded that pushes us forward onto the path of life - that path which God ordained and directed me towards, despite everything.

So I challenge you - as God has challenged me - to face up to the past.

Let Him show you what He wants to, what He needs to.

He wants your healing.

He wants you whole.

Sure, looking at my photos is heart wrenching, and makes me cry, and wish it hadn't been as hard.
But then I remember I would not be who I am now if not for that.

If not for pain.

If not for enduring.

If not for My God, and His great love.

If not for Him.

If there is something He is prompting you to face, then do it.

Surely pain of facing it has got to be better than carrying inward pain  around like a wounded, dying animal?

Let Him heal you.

As I will let Him heal me.

I will face up to these fears - this fear of how terrible, and dark, and deep, and deadly that place was.

I will remember.

And I will know who My God is and what exactly it is He has done for me.

He has taken me out of that place.

And I can never go back.

That alone gives me strength to go on.

The Danger of Derailing Trains - and How to Prevent It

To write, or not to.

Writing requires thought.

Tought which, after a long, endless day at work, seems to become more and more mangled and disconnected.  At which point, speech itself becomes nothing more than jumbled sounds resembling, perhaps, some exotic variety of monkey...

Still, I have given you enough description to easily understand the current state of my mind.  Mush. Pulp. Oooh. Pulp.

Yeah, that sounds like my day.  Like my head. 
Millions of fragments of various thoughts racing (not walking) their way about my mind, each intent on its own train being first.

Trains of thought, that is.  Yes, I can see why they call them that. Each individual thought roams about with the subtlety of a train - make that one without controls or brakes. 
Yet just as suddenly as one great long freighter takes centre-stage, it is quickly de-railed by another, perhaps smaller, yet obviously as important, engine.
Just like those fast-pelt trains chugging along full speed in the old Western movies, these trains seem to never stop.  And they certainly don't like being driven.

I, for one, have always thought that it was pointless trying to lasso these wild beasts as they apparently don't stop or slow down for anyone.  Let 'em run loose.
Well, that's not always true. It's time - time to find the traindriver whithin yourself and master the madness in your mind. (Not madness, you say? Bah - you are human, as am I, the mind is madness.)

I used to think my thoughts were entirely my own. But I have recently learnt otherwise.
Tricky devil uses these 'trains of thought' to create as much catastrophe as possible!
Add to that the fact that, like in real life, if these trains are left to run loose they cause havoc and inevitably end up in destructive collisions. And that is exactly what the enemy wants - destruction.
He will cause your thoughts to de-rail, collide, blow up, run havoc and destroy you if you don't recognise that you can run your own trains!

My trains are crazy.  Sometimes they are colourful, bright, and fast.  Other times they are simply fast, dark and furious. Sometimes they are slow, pensive and lurking. And, sometimes, they are covered in graffitti.

But there's one thing that doesn't change.  They are MY trains.

 Like the professional manager of a real life train company, I should protect my trains from graffitti. I should control the speed, power outage and destination of my trains.
All this I should do, simply because my business will fail if I do not. Neglect leads to destruction.

Truth is, if our thoughts becomes toxic, pensive, powerful and dangerous, we will end up de-railing and eventually self-destruct.  Blow up. Destroy ourselves from whithin - not to mention possible passengers along with us.

My trains have long been given full reign of my mind. I have never really 'thought' of consequences. (This seems to have been a common trend in my life till now, pah)
Again, not giving thought to this has kept me in darkness about the mutiny aboard my trains.
Deceived. Kept in darkness.

But no more. There is a very simple way to say what I am saying in the above example.

'Think about what you are thinking about.'

It's that simple.  We choose what we think on. Sure, the enemy may put those thoughts there in the first place, but we always have that choice to think about them or not to.

There is one really simple thing we should all do, as christians,  - regularly.

   Romans 12:2 clearly states:

"Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will."

 

 Renew your mind. Think as God thinks. 

. Remember, only God can help you change your thoughts, to become holy and pure.

Philippians 4:8-9 states:

^{8 "}Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. ⁹ Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you."

This verse is an excellent reference and guide to follow regarding what we shouldbe thinking.

- Again, only God can change what and how you think.
He is the only one who can prevent these trains derailing.

Keep in mind that unless you set these trains on a course, they will automatically derail.
It's a default setting - called SIN.
 

The Truth about me - and Discovering Self-Worth

The more I look at life in the past few weeks, the more revelations I am getting about my own views, what they were, are, what they should not have been and what they are becoming.

Everything has changed so much, and I am now altering my opinions, views and perspectives. And it has been God, all along. Gently prodding, showing me things with new eyes. It has been so far (it's not over yet!) incredible, although difficult, and I would like to continue sharing these things as God reveals them to me. Reluctantly, kicking and screaming, or quietly led - it really doesn't matter how, the truth of the matter is, if our perspectives need to change they need to change. We simply need to be willing (or at least partially!) for God to do what He wants to do with that. Another challenge. Oh how I enjoy these!
So, perspectives. Time for change. Time to look at things in a new way.  Here comes a deep one - hold your breath, and let's begin. It's very important. Please read carefully, thoughtfully, don't take offence, try to understand where I'm coming from, and just listen. You'll see things with new eyes too.


One of these perspectives I particularly want to address can be related to my recent illness, and all of the emotional struggles I have been having/discovering are problems, and these include my eating habits, my previous views on food, as well as the interesting eating disorder I had but didn't even know was there, ruling my life! And there is a lot more to it than that, and it is very, very important.

What I see now is that so much of what I thought and believed about things had to do with my perspective. My perspective - of me. Bear with me.
Yes, I am going to look at me. But this changes everything about everything.

Ask yourself this question - How do I see myself? (Why is this relevant? Because you are a person, and even though our lives revolve around God and other people, you are still you. Haha, you are the only you. There isn't another, you can't be anyone else. Goodness, it's mindboggling. Anyway, you are a person.)
So did you ask that question? And let me ask something else? Just how honest were you? Haha, nice try. Now, hold that question in your mind for a while - don't push it away, but do keep reading.
So it was my turn to ask that question. All of this mess finally came to the surface in a way I couldn't handle anymore, couldn't push down, couldn't stop crying. God, help. O God.
And it was time. Time to look at the real issues. So God asked that question of me. I asked me.

How do I see myself?

Honestly. To really ask.  Ask that question of myself. To truthfully answer -  I didn't really know.
Who I was, yes, well, I was me, Anna - and I that person was made complete in Jesus Christ. (My very identity was and is wrapped up in who I am as a Christian and how that makes me who I am. As a Christian, what I believe and think was based entirely around my relationship with Jesus. We were pretty close - my very being is in Him and everything He is.) But myself? Oh, I was unsure. I was me, yes. Haha. I was a person. But other than that, a little lost.


I also didn't really believe in myself. How do I explain that? Well, let's see. Not only does this eating issue disorder have more history than I will care to admit, it actually stems from my own views of me. I lacked confidence. Yes, I knew who I was, and people would often comment on the sense of 'peace' that eminated from my eyes (although that is sometimes a mystery to me, given what turmoil I have endured for the past few years) but inside, I was confused and, well, just plain lost. And I lacked confidence in myself. I did not believe in the fact that I really was a beautiful, incredible, and unique creation of God - they say that about everyone, don't they? What really made me unique? Or different? Why was I different? And oh, the constant battle of destiny, one that has plagued me for so many years. Basically a definition of the person of who I was would be to say that I was looking for my place in life whilst trying to live it, and be who I was. Whoever that was.
And the thing is, I sort of knew who I was. Sort of did, sort of didn't. But now. Oh, I see what I was lacking.

So, previously, I have a complexion with my oddly shaped nose, for goodness sake, and a disgusting skin condition on my face, terrible skin and a ridiculously curvy figure - anything physical was out of the question when it came to self-worth. Even when it came to who I was - my personality was a grey area. The way I saw myself was me as being a happy, enthusiastic, encouraging person who was only interested in everyone else, and loving them to my best ability, and that in itself is fine - in balance. But I was so busy doing that I had no time for simply being - and knowing me.
I am learning, now, about loving me. Oh, I tolerated me. Looking in the mirror, eh, yeah, okay today. I can pull something off. But always dissatisfaction with that fringe. It sits wrong. Those jeans are not quite skinny enough. Haha, or more, the figure inside those jeans. Oh well, it doesn't matter anyway.
Yes. It Does matter.
It does. It matters so much. But I couldn't see that. In my spiralling world of keeping things together, pretending things were perfectly fine, I was destroying myself.
I wanted to be a woman - not a child, not a teenager, not just some girl. But I was missing something. But what?
Shame is not really something I have struggled with, apart from the bingeing, but it was there, in a small amount. Why, I don't know, and where it came from, I don't know. It was more dissappointment with myself. Which, really, presents a question - why are you dissappionted - what are your expectations?
I didn't know. What were my expectations of myself? Did I have any? Or was I just so busy moving on with my life and just being I didn't know I had placed any on myself?
We all have expectations - however reasonable (or not), regardless of whether we know they are there.
So what were my expectations? I didn't know. I was lost. I wanted to be a woman, but I struggled with my age, size, shape, weight (oh weight - it is more the figure than anything), height, looks, and what I thought I should look like. As I am sure we all do at some point in life, I wished to look different - brown hair, a little taller, certainly less curvature, less fat, more of a curvy nose, longer eyelashes.... but why? Because I did not like the way I was made.  I suppose that makes me seem ungrateful for the way God has made me - as though I didn't want the unique gift that Ha had made me - but I just wanted to be like everyone else, beautiful, in the same way they all are. All uniquely the same. Haha. So why did I want to be different? Because I did not love or accept who I was.

Accept, well, maybe tolerate, as though I had no other option - well, I don't, I can't exactly go get a nose job haha, though the thought crossed my mind... and trying to 'feel beautiful' with what I saw as a nose as ugly as mine just really wasn't a problem - alright if you're a monkey and you never have to see yourself. But I want to be a beautiful woman!
but You Are.
Yes God, you keep telling me. And it's all lovely, and so Christian, all this self-worth stuff.  And so unrealistic! Screw all this god's little princess nonsense, I am not that kind of beautiful, nor will be, so I will stop trying, and just be the best me I can be - inwardly, anyway, and focus on everyone else. They say beauty is on the inside, so that is how I will find my value.

How wrong you were.
Oh, how wrong, self. You truly didn't see. Who you are is who you see. It is who you believe in. It is why. 
I had such ridiculous views! I was really, really lost in them. And now I see. Like someone who has been awakened from a deep sleep. Wow. Just wow.
It is about how you see yourself.
It really is. I cannot emphasise enough. I have seen, simply by looking around at so many people recently, particularly women as I attempt to understand the process of entering womanhood, the huge power self-worth has over us - the way we see ourselves.
It is such an important aspect that affects everything. The way we carry ourselves, the value we place on ourselves, the way we see others - it all has to do with the way we see us. With How I see ME.  
What I think of me matters. It actually does. And what YOU think of you matters.
So why does it matter? Well, I would say that is obvious, but it isn't really. It matters because it defines the very person we become. It defines eternity. It defines our lives, our futures, our destiny.

It is also what determines how we react to what others think, say and feel about us.

I am reminded now, of a silly but very relevant quote from my favourite cartoon characters. The quote itself is out of the new Tintin movie- and is the scene where Captain Haddock pins Tintin down for quitting after the bad guy gets away with the map to the hidden treasure. What he says, roughly quoted:

"People can say of you, 'loser, stupid, you idiot, you worthless piece of lubber.  
But Never say of yourself, "I am a failure." Because what you think about you is the message you send out, that's what they will pick up on."

And it is so true. We hear it so often we drone it out, and forget the importance of the statement. It is truth. If I call myself a failure, or don't even call myself it, but carry that around on my shoulders, people pick up on that. They do. I will use the example of, say, when you see a person walk into a room, and he slumps his shoulders, and does not look up. One can immediately tell that person is burdened, weighed down, dissapointed - and ashamed. On the other hand, you also notice the difference between this man and an arrogant bikey who walks in with an air of haughtiness and looking for trouble. Yes, he is about to knock someone's block off, but he at least has the confidence to do it. That is, basically, what I am attempting to explain. He knows he can punch someone's lights out, and so he walks into a room with the attitude that he will. Because he knows he can. And that is where we must look at self-worth.
What do we know?
And what do we know about ourselves?

What do I know - or not know - about me?
I didn't know who I was. I didn't know what my value was in. Yes, in being a good person, perhaps. In being loving, caring, kind, compassionate, supportive, friendly, wise, understanding... and all of those are great qualities. But all of those are about serving others, and meeting other's needs, and attending to the wants and desires of other people. That in itself is wonderful - but if that is taking away from, or distracting, or preventing me valuing and looking inwards at myself, then again it becomes a problem. Another cover, another mask, another way of pretending everything is fine.
Now, let's see. A few things that I am discovering.

It is okay to look at me. Wow.

To look inwards, to look closely, and to look long and hard. Now to look, and evaluate. to be dissappoionted, that is the first thing. But why? Again with the expectations.
What else did I see? Sadness. Grief. Anger. Hate. Biterness. Sorrow. Shame. The feeling of unworthiness. Ugliness. Fat. Unattractive. Frightened.  Tiredness. All of that. Did you see any of that? Probably not. I am very, very good at hiding what is really going on, at putting on a mask - which most of you are familar with as being who I am - a mask which has the ability to not only disguise, but also to tell a very different story.
Now that I admitted to myself what I was, and was not, I suppose it was time to look at why, when I really got down to it, I was so dissappointed with what I discovered. And that, I learnt, (or am still learning) is about expectations.
I had no expectations of myself.
Good or bad. Nothing. I didn't look at me. Me, who was that? Me in Christ, yes, that's right. That's my entirety. Yes, it is, but there is more to it than that. So there, in bold, is the reason for all that. No expectations of anything. Why? Id on't understand, or know, why I had no expectations. Nothing. It is a curiosity to me. But now, looking at it, I can see just how well the enemy had me trapped not only in a sense of how I thought about myself physically, but also emotionally and mentally. I only saw myself as a person to help other people, not as the person that I am who needs helping. (Or not helping in the terms of neediness, but the fact that I am a person too, just as much person as that person I am helping.)
I am a person.
I have needs! I have wants, desires, and feelings. And I was not letting myself even be a person! I was not looking closely enough at me, and not even caring about how I felt about myself, let alone looking after myself properly. I am not talking just physically here, I am talking mentally, emotionally, and also spirituallly.
Because of the way I saw myself without realising I did (i.e. I felt dissappointed with myself) I was not able to meet my own needs. Sure, I respected myself and all that hooha. But I didn't really.

Now we get to one of the real issues.
 Self-worth. It defines who we are, how we see ourselves, and how others see us. So, I obviously didn't see myself as very valuable, because I was constantly questioning (or at least, now that I have looked at how I saw myself I was) my own value subconsciously. I see that now. I see so much now, of what has been hidden for so long, and what has been needing to change. I did not value myself, nor did I value my own uniqueness. Instead I tried to hide behind my mask and pretend I did care. Ah, the caring. Not caring has a lot to do with how we see ourselves. If we don't care about how we see ourselves, we are basically saying that our opinions mean nothing - that there is no point listening to what we have to say. And that's the thing. We all want to be heard - so telling ourselves it doesn't matter is the biggest lie ever. Ahah, again, another lie of the enemy. Sneaky little bugger.
The truth is, it does matter. Our opinion does matter, what we think does have an effect on something, and caring should be a priority. I should care. And its that caring that makes the difference.
I need to care about what I think about me.
I need to value me.
Very important. Not only do I need to create good expectations of myself, but I need to be able to live up to them. And that is a good thing! It is exactly what God intended, and to deprive myself of that is absolutely ridiculous - and again, the enemy wins at that point.
I need to care.
I cannot think well of myself if I don't care. You cannot think well of YOU if you don't care. Why do I need to think well of me? Why is that even relevant? What is wrong with pretending?
Because, at some point, if you don't care, it will destroy you. Or suffocate you. Or surface. Like it is doing now, for me. You cannot not care without consequence.   It is like neglecting cleaning out your swimming pool - eventually, it will become unusable and everyone will see it. (Or it will become disgusting and will turn people away.)


Body Image is one of these cares.

On a physical level, I felt so unworthy of being beautiful that I thought if I did pay attention to how I looked that would be vanity and pride - and that this is a disgusting personality trait I would be better off to avoid. Truth is, pride comes in many shapes and forms and being too proud to be vain is also a form of pride - it is just well hidden.

You need to care. You, a person, also need to look inwards at you, and stop running from the fear that you might/ and will find something horrible, and see what you are, and then look again.
And then look again. It is that next look, that new look, I will discuss in a moment.
First I want to piece togetger the body image as well, because it plays a huge part in all this.

My own body image was shot. When I looked at my figure previously I saw: short, unattractive, curvy, hippy, chunky, broad shoulders, a bent, unusual, ugly nose, terrible skin, bad complexion, pale blonde eyelashes that look ridiculous with mascara, the list is endless. And thats the thing.
I only saw what was wrong with me.
There - the enemy had me trapped in a spiral I would not admit was happening - one of negativity - and I was feeding that. How? Oh yes, I dressed well, looked appropriate... But it was more the way I avoided mirrors. Or cringed when I saw a side-shot photo of my nose. Again the dissatissfaction.
Now, because of the way I saw myself, the eating disorder was born. It was simply a manifestation of something that went far deeper.
This eating disorder, the bingeing, was not only about the control but it was about my weight. I will be specific about the weight itself because that is something I put far to much of a focus on.

So why did the weight matter? Well, it did. It does. I am going to elaborate in detail, so prepare yourself haha.
60 kilos. That was my weight, from the time I turned 15 - 16, and underwent  a physical change in shape - I grew hips, and padded to them, much to my annoyance. (I'm pretty sure it's normal... )
Prior to growing and changing shape, weight hadn't really been an issue for me as I could seem to manage a few kilos if I put them on - simply by compensating with a little more running or exercise. I also didnt really like food.
Around the same time I began my new job working the first veterinary clinic I volunteered at - this being my first job I was fairly nervous about doing things right - another time period which has been very influential in my life, however not always in a good way. One thing I particularly struggled with was confidence, and this was made worse at work where, whilst I struggled to grasp concepts about what I was learning, I also struggled with difficult staff and employers.
I also struggled with my shape and appearance, especially with my face and its skin condition (sores) being particularly noticable.
So I already carried shame, despair, dissatisfaction, dissapointment, fear of failure.
It was all there, hidden beneath the surface.
Now, back to the weight.
So they say weight itself is not the issue, that it is about being healthy and finding a weightt that is healhty for you and for your body. But the weight is an issue. We focus on it too much. On that one kilo, or half, or two. On that number. 60.5 kg - oh no, I am fat, I cannot ever lose weight, it never changes. Exercise more, stimulate appetite. Eat more. 59.5kg. Yes! I am finally getting somewhere. I am powetful, I can do this. Increase exercise. One day. A.other. Third day, forget, lose motivation. Despair. 61.5kg. Oh no! I have gotten fatter! I must try harder. Again, repeat cycle. This would happen for weeks. At the same time, I was also eating irrattionally and as a way of resolving stress. White chocolate. Meat pies. And then things I didnt even like, or really want, or need. Simply because they were there. Or on special. Or looked nice, so I cooked them. But never really needed. Oh, I can say no. Of course I can. I just don't need to.
Anf it was all hiding behind the fear that I would never be able to control (him again!) my size or weight, and there was the fear of being fat and unhappy and unattractive. In many ways that fear still lurks. But God will kill him yet. Now, where was I?
Oh yes, the weight. Looking at it now, there is no way 60kgs was overweight for my shape. Not excessively so. I had fat reserves, yes, probably 5kg too many, give or take, but for my size and shape, it really wasn't physically a problem.  I was eating too much and food that was not really what my body needed but size wise, there is no rational reason for that fear. Ah but there never is a rational reason with fear. Fear is erratic.

I made such an issue over the weight. It was an idol. And the truth of the matter is, I wasn't healthy. I was not eating the foods that would benefit my body, and as a result my body was also hanging onto any fat reserves it had - hence the neverending cycle. 
As well as the weeks that I would obsess about it, I also have periodss where I would get so discouraged and give up that I wouldnt think about it, and end up eating better, and not even overeating for weeks at a time - and staying at the same weight. Not losing it, but not gaining it either. And at those times the exercise also was healthy and balanced.
And then it would spiral again, triggered bu something emotional, my own struggles at the time, or seeing a photo of myself and feeling ashamed of those tighter-than-they-should be jeans.... I thought, if they were skinnier, I would then be attractive, and then I would finally be happy...
What a hideous LIE.
It really is. A lie of the enemy, swallowed hook line and sinker.
'If you're skinnier you'll be happy.'
The lie that satisfaction can found apart from God.
And apart from God's perspective - of you.

So there is the weight, the dissapointment with self, the shame and guilt and fear.

The figure, the shape. Then there was getting sick. And losing weight.
At first.
At first I put on a few kilos. 61.5kg I got to. I was devestated - terrified, in fact - that finally, I would get fat, it would overtake me, and I would not be able to control my size. I was almost a size 11, a thought so devestating to me, yet it seemed I couldn't do anything about it. Ahah - I reasoned! I could even go to the gym and make it behave there. I didnt want to become the commando but if that meant I would be fitter,and not get fat, it would be a last ditch attempt. So, now let me tell you that this is all fairly recent. Surprised? Hold onto your horsies - this renewing God is doing really is hot off the press.
So, all this was going down right about the same time as everything else (did I mention I have also been fighting depression for the last six months? Eh thats another topic)
And basically all fell apart right about Christmas time. Convenient, as we were all shuffling living over in Tamworth awaiting Abi and her popping outedness.

Ah so, the weight. At first, as I said, I put it on, and was shocked. So I got aggressive, picked on my arm flab, and started to work out on it - homemade weights and outside walks. Building myscle was surprisingly easy - I actually retained the muscle, for while - and I did notice that it looked better. Oh well, at least that sort of made me feel better about wearing a sleeveless top. Sort of.
And right in the middle of all that, I started getting sick with vomiting (well no, it had been in-off for about a month) and not tolerating food. Of course, the thought niggling in my mind was that maybe I was doing it to myself; maybe I was crazy, just a little, despite being unvoluntary vomiting. The weight started coming off, and to be honest, I was thrilled. Still eating normally, to some degree, and I was losing weight. Easy! 5kgs. Yes, I noticed the difference. Everyone did. I looked and felt better about myself for it. Again that nagging thought - maybe you are doing it. But what overrode that thought was the fact that I knew I was sick. Deep down, I knew. Something was wrong, and people were not taking me seriously. It was only when I kept losing weight that they did. 10 kilos. Yeah, people are gunna notice that. 15 kilos. Even I was beginning to get scared. When I was hospitalised the first time, I had lost 15 kilos over a 6 week period. If thats not rapid weigjt loss I don't know what is! Around the same time, the vomiting worsened, food tolerance issues became unbearable, and eating a real problem. I also just ate whatever because I knew it wouldn't stay down anyway. (Well, to some extent - some foods hurt too much) The vomiting was not self inflicted, I assure you, and it hasn't ever been (again, why would I voluntarily do that, its gross, and painful, and exercise is easier), but it meant that I was getting malnourished. Severely. I was starving. My body, wasting away. All my reserves getting used up. And eventually, it shuts down. That is the stage I was at when I first went into hospital. It had affected my electrolytes abd potassium - essential for normal body function.

My weight, upon entering hospital, was 46.5kg. Even I was scared. I could see all my ribs, my backbone, my hips, etc.
A lot of that was because I had no body fluid left either. Once I got on a drip, I put on abour 5 kilos overnight - something that occurred on both hospital trips.
The second, well really third hospital visit, I went home, and dropped again - to 44kg. Upon returning to fluids, I went back to being 50kg almost overnight. Its amazing what fluid can do.
Now, coming home, I have dropped weight again, but managed to stay a consistant 43.0kg for about two weeks - give or take a few hundred grams. The last few days, it has gone up and down all over the house - and I feel as though I am actually still losing body mass. I give up with weight at gastroparesis - they do not agree. So, well, I have lost a LOT of weight. Too graphic? I apologise. I must say, I did not know I even had this much to lose. It is amazing what the body can tolerate.
 I had put far too much importance on that number, on the weight itself. I am beginning to realise now just how much of it is actually about being healthy, not size and not a number on the scales.

And now, my feelings on my fat reserves have altered immensly. Why? Lets just say you don't appreciate what you have until you lose it. Firstly, I will never think the same about my figure again. I miss my hips, or at least partially! I miss having something up top, haha. Secondly, I get cold easily! I certainly miss being able to regulate my body temperature. It's also uncomfortable feeling your tailbone when you sleep and not being able to get your hips in the right position.

So why am I being so open about it? Because I believe it is important.

And now back to self-worth. It is time to elaborate. I already looked at what I didn't like. What I hated about me. About what I saw, both physically and otherwise, when I looked at me. I didn't like it. And now, and in the midst of being sick, I have seen so much. I have seen how wrong I was, and how blind I had been. Watching people, and seeing what I hadn't observed before, and discovering my old perspective come crasing down.

And then one day, I found this quote on a picture, and I stopped, and read it again.

You cannot look after what you do not love.

And it hit me. Just like that. Wow. Just wow. That is so true. I hated myself. I find everything wrong.
And why? Because I do not value me. I do not value me. Wow. Something to get my head round.
I need to value me if I want to love.

So how, and how could I gave that same satisfaction, and reassurance, and confidence in myself?
By choosing to make a few conscious decisions.

I need to LOVE me. Not merely accept, and certainly not worship or idolise, but I need to love, in the truest sense, my very oprson. Love is understanding, appreciation, acceptance, respect, compasion, trust, security.

I need to admire me. To hold me in high esteem.
I need to think well of myself.
I need to care what I think.
I need to find what I like about myself, and enjoy that.
I need to appreciate me.
I neef to want to spend time with me.
I need to like myself.
I need to love what I am, how I am, where I am.
I need to love what I have, not just tolerate it.
I need to fall in love with MY figure, stop wishing I had yours, and love the way that I am physically.
I need to feel good in what I wear - not vanity, but self worth
I need to be happy, satisfied with my uniqueness

I need to be happy with, to love, to appreciate, understand and enjoy the person God made me. Me. Not you. Or her. Me.
God delights in me, the bible makes that very clear. Now I need to delight in me too.

As a painter/artist, I must see it this way - as the creater of an artwork, I see all that was put into it. I know its many flaws. What you see is very different. I can choose to see only what is wrong, or I can delight in how well this piece of art turned out;  in what I DO like about it.

Instead of looking in that mirror and cringing, I need to look in the mirror and think - oh, that top is flattering with your face, and your hair looks lovely up. This is not me primping myself up, lying, or being vain - but rather, I am relearning how to look at myself and put positive, Godly affirmation into my life by allowing me to be comfortable in who I am!
Recently I have been learning just how important this is.

My expectations need to be good ones. I need not be afraid of looking at myself, not afraid of being vain, not afraid of things I cannot change. (Oh where is that courage lion?)

My expectations need to be:
I expect to be valued, treated well by people, respected, trusted, relied upon, understood, loved, admired and known by people - because I love me and who I am, I am confident that I am cherished and known and loved by the God of the universe, and I am WORTHY of the sacrifice of his son's life on that cross. Because he said so, I am worthy and have been washed clean by the blood of Jesus, and there is no questioning that.

I am loved. I am valued. I am beautiful.

And so now, now back to how I see things now, today. About my figure. I am going to learn to love it! One thing I discovered is that regardless of weight distribution, shape stays the same! I will never be a tall, skinny greyhound, so I may as well not live in denial and pretend it will happen - yes I have lost weight but the hips themselves haven't moved, so I had better stop hoping that will change - and accept, delightedly, the way I was made. I have hips! Okay, that is womanly. I should be thankful for my womanly figure - it is a thing of beauty.
About my weight. It's not about a number. Its about eating the right food that nourishes your body while also being allowed to enjoy the textures, tastes, and flavours. And white chocolate is awesome!
About my values and expectations. They are changing.
About my view of me - I am learning to love who I was made. And its exciting.


 - an old part of me has died, been destroyed. God has given me a new perspective. I am sharing that perspective.
And it will take time to build. But it is beginning.

And so. There ends one topic, and begins another.

But I feel that the above, all of it, is just SO important, and not just to me. This is a huge part of YOU. Stop right there. Stop running. I'm looking right at you. Look into my eyes. You. This is for you. All of what I have been through, yes it is my struggle. But I want to ask you, hobestly. Is it yours, too? Do you know who you are? And do you love you? I know iy looks like I am easily saying this. Well, I am not. It is with great pain that I do. But I want you to look past fear. And ask yourself - the same thing I asked me, when prodded by God.

Do you know who you are?

Another challenge I leave with you. Walk this journey with me? You are not alone. Do not fear.

Barely Surviving, I am Not Coping. Everything is Falling Apart.

It's time to write. Get ready, because here it comes. Bear with me, please be empathetic, forgive me for complaining, and absolutely leave feedback.

I am not even really sure where to begin, only that begin I must, and that, well, there is never really a better time than the present! So, at the time of writing, now, it is 3:00 am which, to some, is just bordering on night owliness and, yep, well, most people would not be doing this anyway, but they would certainly be asleep! Well, I am not, and since beginning taking certain prescribed steriods which are supposed to be aiding my current stomach function (indeed they actually are -  the vomiting is more controllable and less severe and physically these are more effective than the last lot of drugs) I have not been sleeping! My new regular sleeping pattern is to go to bed at 9-10pm, wake up at 12:00am (where I need to go to the bathroom - for whatever reason, I also seem to need to go every two hours at the moment, not sure if this is simply positioning of the stomach contents, side effects of the medication, or both, but it is unbelieveably frustrating and I feel like a leaky old dog, haha), sleep till 2 - and then from 2:00am I am as awide awake as any dear owl you did see, and cannot for the life of me attempt sleep - so I don't try. From 2 onwards is my new 'time' for spending time with God, having a daily breakdown/piece together God session, journalling, drawing, thinking, writing emails (if anyone wants a long message written at 2am, I would love to comply) and writing up thoughts which will likely end up on here.

Now, this has basically been part of my day for at least the last week, and if you could call that sort of thing routine, I suppose one could say it has actually stabilised out. Well, yeah. No.
So all of this morning experience, and spending time with God I have been getting has been fundamental to each day, and the mountainous task of getting through each one.
It is so hard. No, I am not dying a terminal illness, but the amount of effort that is required to live, as I mentioned before, is almost not worth living it. And boy, I am struggling.
And then there was yesterday. I don't know what happened. I don't know that I ever will understand what happens when it does. It all fell apart. It really did. And I am not sharing this because I want to say that my day was worse than yours, or that I should be pitied. I don't even truly know why I am sharing this - I suppose part of it is me going,

"Hey, anyone out there? I'm struggling with this particular thing and knowing that someone supports me is all I ask - does anyone feel like telling me? All I need is for you to smile genuinely and tell me that yes, it will be ok. Not because you are an optimist, nor because I want or need a sympathetic pat on the head, but because you believe it, and know that evetually, despite everything, I can too."

Wow, there it is. I am being voulnerable, scared enough to ask for support. Independant, self-reliant me, I never thought I'd see the day. Well well. 

My yesterday. It fell apart more than normal. Everything came crashing down on me. I had been barely managing each previous day on a general level - just setting up my mind to choose to have a life-giving day, instead of a miserable, overwhelmingly depressed one - and even and that was hard. Just physically, I am too tired to get out of bed before 9:00am. Once I do, it is the long slow process of getting showered and up and moving (physically even washing my hair is a huge effort, and let's not even mention what happened when I couldn't shake up the shaving cream bottle because of how exerting that is - and the repercussions for my legs!), and then, so to speak, the battle begins. I have to eat. At the moment, eating is a really, really, really big problem, on many levels. I cannot really change that right now. Physically, I vomit everytime (not maybe, always) I eat anything more than a spoonful. This means sitting down to have a meal involves a few things - time, space, lots of water, and a nearby toilet. Oh and did I mention food? Eh.
So, once I have downed and returned breakfast (usually very thick milo, because I cannot drink large amounts of milk, and ice cream frombreakfast is not good, nor is spup or mashed potato haha), I spend the next half hour drinking tea or water, eating a lot of jelly beans/sugar as I am badly needing a sugar hit by this time, and throwing up the remainder of my stomach contents. By this time my stomach aches and aches, and I get bad cramps - so any kind of moving activity is out. Basically then I will go and sit and do craft of draw, etc. I quite enjoy these times - they are something different to do and take my mind off the annoying belly ache.
One thing I can tolerate throughout the day is my jelly beans. Sometimes, they come up. Mostly a few at a time stay. I love these guys. I know they are pure sugar but they have been so wonderful to me. I am in love with jelly beans right now, haha, as they are about the only thing I can chew that dissolves. One thing I miss is being able to eat hard, crunchy foods like chips, and being able to chew food.
Then I spend the rest of my day avoiding food. I try not to think about it, and eventually attemp to force another meal down, but it is such an effort to eat knowing you are about to throw it all up and that depending whats in it, it will hurt coming back up - and then afterwards in the form of a weak, aching back and gut from the effort if spewing. Unfortunately, I cannot just not eat, because I am going to starve. As in,even a day of not eating has a very detrimental effect and I go backwards healthwise - and hospital looms an inch closer.

This all sounds terribly depressing, doesn't it? So thats just one aspect of my day - dreading eating and being hungry, throwing up and aching, knowing that I am not nearly getting enough to eat and fearing ending up just as sick back in hospital with no strength and being put back onto the drip. Add to that foods that do not agree and make acid, as well as the endless mashed potato, soup, ice cream, cream and the flavours one can add that are tolerated - and you have a fine mess. Add to that fine mess being sick and tired of eating mush, of food not tasting like anything, of soup not being nice warm, of watching other people eat their food happily and enjoy it... And I have a cry at mealtimes.

Wow, what a winge session! Forgive me, I have not even started on why yesterday was so bad! But! Let me rant for a bit longer and I promise I will get to the good. For there is good, however small.

Yesterday. (I have to pee, newsflash, just to lighten the topic for half a second! Getting up too quickly makes me dizzy, never run to the loo at night before sitting up first - or you and/or the cupboard will inevetably suffer.)

I cried all day. On and off, whimpery little sobs as well as 3 or 4 full on bawling sessions. What a mess. It was, pretty much, just everything I'd been fighting with just came all out at once - like a horrible ugly pimple. No more I can handle this, no more stuff it down, no more deal with it later. I felt like Raelee having a temper tantrum and the way how she gets so upset she loses it and cries uncontrollably. I felt hopelessly out of control. But I am learning that is apparently exactly where God wants me. Argh.

So, what surfaced? Part of me wants to hide it all away, 

But part of me feels compelled to write this anyway. One thing I do ask, though. Please have empathy. Please try to understand why right now I feel how I do, that wish I didn't, but cannot change that. Please be there for me. I'm a little scared at sharing so much. Please do not pity me. I do not want pity, a pat on the head or to be told 'it'll be ok'. If you say that, I will bite you. Haha. Get real.

So, what came up? These are just some things.
My life. My plans. My dreams, my hope, my futre desires, intents and everything I ever want to do. Everything has changed. I cannot, and will not, ever be the same again. I am trying to see this as a blessing, as a good thing. That's not so easy. I am not talking about my illness here at the moment, simply that God has revealed that so much of what I had known or thought about everuthing may not be right.

Back to my life. On the very surface of things, all my plans for this coming year have changed by circumstances I have no controll over. (Being sick for so long might have had soemthing to do with it.)

My tafe has gone out the window. I had intended to complete my cert IV before july, and be hopefully on the way to getting my 'foot in the door' where I am working now and being able to hold down a job that I love and enjoy. *I had planned that. Now, well. My tafe teacher and work have been extremely wonderful and allowed me to continue both working through my tafe assigmnents at my own pace, but also working for the remainder of the year and slowly getting my skills signed off.
In terms of my course, I am still able to do it by the end of the year and it will work out okay - I will get to finish it - but it certainly was not how I had it planned.
Knowing that my teacher and work are not worried about when and how I get it done should take the stress of things away, but, as per usual, I am expecting so much from my own working ability and am frustrated at the untouched assignments - my brain just isnt working, either. So, tafe, or at least, my agenda for it,  out the window.

Now Kaelen. This may not be a big deal to some, but to me it is. I have not been able to train him the way I wanted to. I have such plans for him, being my first real experience inthe world of dog training (it has always been a goal of mine to train a dog to do something) and I have so many ideals, theories, and goals - none of which are unreasonable and we will get there - but the how is changing. It has been an incredible blessing, however, in the way how the last few months of his important puppy impression stage (which I was so worried about doing right, because this stage makes or ruins a good dog) in terms of people here. Because I have been away I was not able to bond with him as I wanted to, as result he has become a dog for dad, myself and ria the farmer - which in the long run will be hugely ideal because he will need to obey and work for them mores than me.  I am also reminded that I prayed for this pup, felt God give him to me in the knowledge that he was 'the right one', and dedicated him to God upon his arrival - so, inevetably, whatevere comes our way next, it will work out, even better than I had planned.

I am really only scratching the surface here of top issues, the others are so scary.

My art. I had plans, oh I had plans. I was going to get my online comissions business up and running this year, website, paypal, professionally and all - and have a sense of accomplishment of making my own money because I cannot find a paid job (and certainly will not be able to get one for a while now) and be doing something with my time. I had planned so much into how I would do this, and a lot more. Now, like everything else at the moment, my art is up in the air too.
Because I have been sick for so long my body is weak, and these days my hands can only handle so much before they cramp, become unresponsive and anything I am drawing becomes a wobbly mess. This is SO upsetting to me because then I attain an unreasonable fear of the thought of perhaps not being able to draw properly again. Not being able to express my inner artist would be an end to me, I am sure of it. This scares me so much. So, my art and creativity, and not being able to do what I want to because I physically cannot is an issue.

Now for some scarier issues.

The big one. This is one that makes me cry all the time.

Food.

Bear with me, I know you are sick of hearing about it. So am I. But I cannot escape it.
I have loved food all my life. When I turned 16 I began a love affair (haha) with the tastes, textures, sights, sounds, and smells of food. Baking was a passion of mine, until I got busy with other things. I loved the art of creating and enjoying food.
I also had a binge eating disorder, which was so subtle I did not even know it was there. In fact, it is in only being sick now that I have discovered it was/is a problem at all. (just note that this is not the reason I am sick, haha)
It is something I will have to adress at some point in the future - but again, another one of those dark horrible issues brought to light by something else. They are often so deeply buried it takes something major to be able to expose them.

Back to food. I really do love it. This is why the idea of doctors thinking I was deliberayely anorexic was so hilariously rdiculous to me. Did they realise that I had tried before, on occassion, to starve myself after bingeing but that I loved food SO much I could never ever not eat for half a day? Overexercise was more my problem. It still makes me laugh. Vomiting is not something I have chosen to do for the last 7 months - and it is absolutely beyond me why anyone would choose to inflict that on themselves willingly.

I still love food. But now I also hate it. I hate it so much, as times. I have a love hate relationship with my food, what a laugh!
I hate seeing food in woolies and thinking, "I cant eat that, or that, that hurts, that looks nice, I wonder if that would be wirth the pain for the taste...." And then those horrible little thoughts the enemy fills our minds with - like seeing something (food, in my case) and thinking, "Will I EVER be able to eat that again?" Thoughts like that are usually my undoing. It is easy from an outsider's perspective to say 'stop thinking about food' or 'get over it' or 'just eat'. Things that upset me more are comments like 'why eat ir at all, you're only going to throw it up and waste food anyway'. Eh that stinks.

Wow, this is really hard, but I am actually feeling a huge release right now, talking about this. Praise God - I can think about food and I havent teared up yet.

Now my favourite food. Meat pies. I love them. Hot, cold, frozen. They are absolute rubbish nutritionally but sonderfully textured - the pastry, flavour, mmmm the meat. With cheese and bacon, even better.
I cannot eat meat pies. The pastry, for one. It is wheat, and fat, and dry, and digests slowly. The meat for two - it is made up of fat and grsitle and acid ingredients, and becomes very upset with my stomach. The agony caused by a meat pie bellyache is unbearable. Oh and did I mention it is solid food? Yeah no can do. I so badly want to eat one, but cannot. I have a few options as to how to deal with it.
I could buy one from the bakery, deny the fact that a cannot digest or tolerate the stuff, gorge myself, eat one anyway and regret it for the next 3 days. I daresat it would be not worth the effort. Sad.
Or I could move on, and find a new favourite food. That's a scary thought,that means change.
I could lay down my 'idol' and stop worshipping it, and find and appreciate a new flavour in a new food in a new way in this new season. I could.
Or I could become bitter and angry and loathe meat pies for etenity and be unhappy. Hmm. Tough choice.

Back to food. You know, I feel better already. Wow.


If you want to stay my friend, haha, this next part is really important! You need to read this =D

It is really hard, at the moment, for me to watch people eat. We do not realise it, but so much of what we do socially revolves around food. It is not only an idol in many ways, but I am beginning to see how much value we put on food can be very unbalanced.
Socially, we link spending time with people around food. Coffe catchup, family reuinions, family mealtimes (which is healthy, but this is the time for when the family reunites so to speak, after the events of the day), holidays, events, birthday parties, morning teas, celebratory meals, even a sunday church bbq - the list goes on and on. I am not bashing these at all, merely pointing out how much social time spend with people is connected to food and the enjoyment/eating of it. There are many other ways we can be doing this - time spent with people does not have to be a food centred event, why are we putting so much of what we base spending time with people around food? I think perhaps on a general level, people and the world have got our views wrong on what we get our value out of and why.
I am not sure on that one - but it is something to think on. Why is food so socially important and if it was replaced with something else, would we be better off relationally for it? What is it that gives us value from people and relationships?

Now, where was I.
Oh yes, eating, with people. To be honest, it is a very hard thing at the moment, for a few reasons.

1. They can eat what they want.
It is difficult not to tear up as Ria chomps ravenously into a steak (and I don't even like steak!) as I watch her enjoy - and chew - her meal, knowing it will be happily remaining in her stomach, and that she will not think of it again. She will be full, satisfied. I am tryimg not to resent people eating around me.

2. It smells and looks so good, and they will enjoy it. Again, it is idfficult not to get angry at them because they can eat something and I cannot. It also really annoys me if they do not enjoy eating it or see it as something simply to survive.

3. They watch me struggle to want to eat, and give pitying looks without meaning to.

4. They asks if it tastes nice. Of course not, even if it did, even if I wanted it to stay there, it's all coming srraight back up with a bitter taste and fuzzy teeth.

5. I have to leave to throw up. It is fine until halfway through a meal, and the first lot comes back. Then whilever I am eating, fine again. As soon as I have finished, it has to come up. If I dont get to a toilet it WILL be everywhere. The thought of having to hold it down is horrible.

6. They ask if any of it stayed down. Never. Ask. That. It is so insensitive. Duh, I just threw up and feel horrible.

7. They say things like, 'pray it down'. Dude, seriously. The pain and nausea of food staying there is a million times worse than the releif and pain of vomiting. At least vomiting is relief.

8. I want to be left alone to eat. I don't want to look like a sooky baby because I cry when my soup is cold, tasteless mushed liquid while you are eating freshly baked muffins with an amazing aroma.

9. I don't want to talk about food. Especially not mine. Anything else is fine. When I am eating, I am barely coping with the idea of making myself eat.

10. I am hungry all the time. This makes me grumpy. And irrational. Not hungry stomach growly (although that happens at 3:00 every morning) but just hungry. My body is starving, there is no body fat left, energy levels and sugar levels are always low, and I get dizzy easily. I am weak a lot of the time.


11. It just isn't fair. This one's a whinge. I'm sick of it all. Haha.

I want to spend time with my family, and people, and I miss that. But if I run out at the dinner table or do not eat when you do, those are the reasons why.

Looking at all that, I do want to cry and have another meltdown, but. But, I actually also feel hugely releived to have said that. It all looks to me like I just threw a major tantrum on paper there, it reads like such a big complaining session and right now I could easily feel like slapping myself about the face and telling myself just to get over it, like I do and have done with everything else. But part of me knows that I cant handle it anymore, and regardless of what I or others think I have to throw that tanty, cry about it, and see what ways there are of moving on. I am sorry for doing so much complaining, but right now I have to! Waah.

So God has been showing me all this rubbish that is there and I just cant handle it anymore. I cry so much, am angry, hate myself, get frustrated and try too hard to hope, and then it all comes crumbling down.
God keeps talking to me about giving it all to him, and letting go of control, and of surrenderring. It is not easy and I m struggling so very hard with it all.

I am fighting with being able to let go of the control I have because of the fear that if I do, I WILL HAVE NOTHING LEFT. Thats so scary to me right now.

Yet God is also showing me that no matter what,

He makes all things work together for my good.

I want so hard to believe that. I do. Giving up means losing everything, it means being voulnerable, being open, exposed, scared, lost, and available. Im not sure I am willing to do that. But I know that what God has in mind is so much more wonderful than anything I have planned for me and my life - again though, it is hard to believe that what God has planned is not only good, and better, but that it will actually happen, and it is not just a dream or fantasy, or hanging out of reach like a donkey's carrot on a string.

Courage is doing it afraid.

I am afraid. But I want to give it to God, despite wanting to hang onto it. I want to believe. For real. God help me do it afraid; to do it anyway. Give me courage like a lion, whose heart is not faint in times of trouble. Give me faith like an eagle who soars without questioning his ability to fly. Give me hope that does not dissapoint.

There. I have said enough for now, even though I have pages and pages of journal notes I could add - and some other major issues I have not even touched on.

Thank you for reading. Keep me in your thoughts today, I am in desperate need of prayer and His strength. I would really appreciate this; you cannot know how much.

Today, I choose, to see past this despair and the food, and the pain, and the struggle, and the problems. I choose to look for things in my day that DO mean something - like clothes that fit and will wear and feel happy in, and spending time with people, my family, and of the ways I can bless them - even if I do not have the strength to even wash up. Of the little things, the grass, the flowers, the devoted blue heeler dog who loves and worships me and gives me stress therapy every day, of how I can paint inspiring gifts for people - even if it does not earn me money or make value of who I am. Of the fact that the sun is shining, that I am indeed alive, despite it all, that I do not have to cry about being like this forever, that today, today I will get through this, and tomorrow is tomorrow.

And that I will be able to eventually give these things to God and trust him with my body, emotions, soul, and spirit without limiting him to any kind of timefame or expectations.

God give me strength. Give me that courage like a lion, a lion who does not fear but stands unafraid. He stands. Courage to do it afraid.  Give me faith like an eagle, who soars without questioning his ability to do so. Help me to believe even when I do not feel like it. Help me to trust when I see no end. Help me to give to you what I feel I cannot. You know my heart, O God, you know I am willing, but you also know I fight to hang onto that control. Help me to let go of everything. Of everything. 

Learning to Surrender.

What are the true implications, I wonder? What does it mean to give in to one thing and not the other? And why is that important?
I will look at the obvious here. This is the struggle between life and death. Lets look at death.
Death is an end, yes, but I am learning that it likes to stay just out of reach - taunting, tantalising, threatening, and dark. We should steer clear of death, obviously. Yet reality of what life is sometimes makes us look closer - too close - to the end. Lets face it, we have all had times where we wanted to die, to end it, for nothingness. Often it is not death itself that drives us, but pain. Of wanting to escape so badly that the temptation of slipping into nothing becomes tangible. Well, that is a lie. Death is not an end. Death cannot stop or nullify the problem. Death is continuous, never ending hell, torment, despair and destruction. So why do we desire it?
Because it appears easier than choosing life.

Life is hard. Living requires effort, willingness, wanting to be alive, desiring purpose, future and hope. The reality of life is that it is a struggle - just like breathing requires effort, and retaining a heartbeat requires force and resistance. Life is hard. Death appears the easy way out. Despite this false appearance, death is a lie - it will never satisfy or complete. It will always be an empty hell.

Choosing life. This is my current greatest battle. So real, so terrifyingly close and constant. I am not talking the realm of suicidal thoughts - this is an entirely separate issue here - but rather the war between life and death which rages every day in us all, in some way or another. It is real, and it is something I have been made aware of. Get this. There is life. There is death. You choose. There is so much more at stake here than living happily ever after in heaven. This is now. 

This battle is not yours to fight.
I am learning, God. Yet as much as I struggle, the turmoil increases and uncertainty looms - alongside fear. Fear goes hand-in-hand with death. Oh, fear. Fear binds, holds in chains, keeps captive. Fear brings death. Fear is crippling. So why does it control us so easily? Because we allow it to overwhelm and rule; instead of resisting we give into the temptation of allowing fear to control us.

Now lets go back to life. Oh, the promise of life has surely got to be more than a whim of joy eventually, or some fantasy that seems unreal. Well, it is, but finding the true meaning of life is a little harder than you might think. Stuck in a dark pit, one can hardly see or look forward to the hope and promise of life without difficulty. There is always that option of slipping into death, but as we know that promise is empty as the grave. So we are left with another option - I believe a choice that is harder by far.

Life. What does it mean to choose life? It means effort and resistance. It means fighting. It means surrender, escape and freedom all at once.
I would like to say this part us easy, but that is so untrue. Often it is harder to choose something that requires effort when all we want to do is give up or give in - but that is exactly the place we need to be in.

Now we are at a crossroads. We are harshly faced with two options - to give in to death and be made its eternal hostage, or to give in to life and surrender completely to what it involves. Both options offer a means of escape, to some degree. But the choice is what defines.
And why.

You are still alive.

Therefore the choice is yours.

At this point, the battle is being waged not only in you, but around you. God owns this battle. Choose to surrender to life. Give up fighting, stop desiring an end. Weak and feeble you may be, yes, but.
Give in to God, let him carry you. Find the life God promises and you WILL LIVE IN IT.

Tell me, when you feel physically tired, does it not feel like complete bliss when you lay down and surrender to the healing restoration of sleep? Our surrender to life and to God must be made complete in this way.

Therefore choose life. God promises to sustain, love, protect, give hope, rescue, save, and fulfil us - if only we will allow him to.

God help me choose life, to desire it. Keep death far from my soul - for I believe, or at least my faint heart is trying to believe that when I give in to total surrender you will spare me and give me purpose as your word promises. 


"This day I call heaven and earth as witnessess against you  -

That I have set before you life and death, blessings and cursings.

Now choose life."


 ~ Deuteronomy 30:19

Complete and total surrender. Give in to life, to the knowledge of not only eternal hope but purpose, and the unconditional protection of the Love of God. He will never leave you nor forsake you. Surrender not to death, but to life. Do not live in fear.

Gastroparesis - being sick

Now, I feel it is time for a medical explanation for my poor, curious friends. Not too detailed, I promise!
As some know, I have been quite unwell with hospital trips lately (3 in 3 weeks, in fact, a total of 16 out of 21 days spent hospitalised) and as I am aware the prayer support network has been incredible. I have so many people here to thank and appreciate for their support. Now, where was I. Oh yes. So, I have been unwell on and off for a good long while now, not yhat I can really put it down to anything, but a busy stressful 12 months has, I daresay contributed. Life got busy, and eventually some form of weakness shows under stress, haha. My stomach began to disagree with being a stomach and for months it would fight. Tolerable, for a time, but eventually the symptoms got so bad it began to have an everse effect on my body. Thats when I ended up in hospital, very much the definition of 'very sick'.
In simple terms, my body slowly got sicker and sicker as it struggled to provide the nutrients needed to survive. The reason it struggled so is due to the consistent, worsening stomach reactions, which included vomiting. This, unfortunately, eventually lead to malnutrition (I will never wish away spare bits of fat again!) which, obviously affects the body's ability to function.  Add to that dangerously low potassium levels (which I learn are essential to heart function, and can cause heart attacks if not within the normal range) and this presented itself as a rather hairy, scary situation. This is why I ended up on a centraline drip (one implanted below the collar bone directly into the vein travelling towards the heart) with massive amounts of potassium and fluid being pumped in, to account for the electrolytes that were so badly missing. Add to this days in intensive care monitoring (the potassium infused at high levels also causes cardiac issues) and what a fun, exhausting mess!
That in itself was pretty hard. I physically felt nearly dead, and certainly not with it enough to do too much thinking, but getting my head around it all was a real struggle. One small battle of many.

Now the hardest part - what is the problem? So many tests during that first week. Blood tests, daily, which only accentuated my phobia of needles because I have learnt what horrible little veins I posses - and any attempt to collect blood or canulate ended up in 5 stabs to one success - as well as one3 hour midnight session in emergency with an ultrasound machine, trying to find the little suckers.
More tests. Doctors constantly re asking the same questions, trying to find some clue as to what wasgoing on. Ultrasounds, ct scans, x rays - I even had a gastroscopy, which was a little scary (a camera down the throat while sedated) and stomach biopsies. These poking, prodding drs were talking an obstruction, pancreatitis, no, a systemic disease, bacterial, no... Endless list. Obviously something was going on!
Now the hardest part of my week. The doubt. Being sick, and knowing it yourself, but seeming to have no obvious reason, no result, no fix it answer. Puzzled drs, so many people asking if one is simply anorexic  and self inflicted (which was an incomprehensive thought for me) all eventually leads to questionings and doubt, and there the enemy has his field day. Imagine not being believed, and even questioning yourself? Those few days in hospital were pretty tough - and raw.  I may elaborate on them in future, but to be honest they are still a little too scary. This seems to be when God started shaking my world upside down. Or maybe that was only when I began to take notice.

So  back to the medical. The diagnosis. This was harder than the mystery of illness.
After all of these tests, we finally did one last one which I would have happily missed - so keen was I to be home and out of the boredom and madness of being stuck in a hospital bed for so long. Oh, the mind has time to wander when it is bored.
This test was done - one known as a gastric emptying study test - one that is designed to follow the progress of food through the stomach/digestive system and monitors the time it takes to do so. These test results proved to be abnormal (which didn't surprise me, given the way my stomach had been acting lately, seeming to retain food for very long periods of time) and there we had it. Well, sort of.
Finally, I got my diagnosis.

Gastroparesis.
 
Yep, it is an odd word. I have, by default, in the last 2 weeks of getting used to it myself, learnt to explain it as this: basically, 'paralysis of the stomach muscle'. In english, my stomach does not want to be a stomach. Sounds exciting. And annoying. And like my stomach. 
So, simply put, food does not pass through to the intestines (in what is considered a normal period of time - so a few hours) because it cannot be expelled by the normal pushing of the stomach muscles. Its quite simple - normal stomachs eat/break down food, move it along and then digestion occurs in the small/large intestines. My trouble is that food is not even being moved far enough along to be digested. It is also vomited back up, in my case, making it even harder for normal digestive function. Now, those stomach muscles of mine. They just don't work.
This obviously causes a huge problem (haha) and the symptoms basically include vomiting, constant nausea, bloating, severe cramping, reflux, malnutrition/weight loss, no intake of food so reduced physical activity, etc. Now I am not sure what my stomach thinks it is, but it certainly is not being normal.

The cause for the sleepy stomach. - Is nerve damage. Medically speaking, this is not repairable as nerves are a long standing thing and once damaged, as we know in the cases of nerve loss (like quadroplegics) the full use of these nerves often does not return.
The cause for this nerve damage, in mine and many other cases of gastroparesis (I am discovering) has been labelled "idiopathic". (See my page on Gastroparesis for more information) This is basically a mishmashed term to label the cause or reason as a 'medical mystery' by doctors who cannot find an immediate/obvious problem or cause. In some people the condition is caused by diabetes (which I do not have), or by some serious systemic disease like Lupus. The good news is mine is so far apparently not caused by an immune disease. There are a few theories on how this idiopasy is brought on, but I am not sure of my own yet.

Just a quick reflection - while Itry to compose my wandering thoughts and bring some kind of sense to what I am saying.  So far, as it stands, I do not understand why what happens happens, (who ever has?) but I believe with with every fibre of my being that everything happens for a reason, and that God will be glorified through this. Unfortunately for me this doesnt make the suffering any easier...

So, what does gastroparesis mean to me/my life and why am I making such a big deal about it?
Because, my life just changed. It fell apart. Everything I have known about everything has been altered. What I think or believe about many things is being turned upside down and messed up. This is really just a minor issue but I will address physically, first. There will be a time for the addressing of the huge spiritual and emotional upheaval I have been going through.

As I mentioned, Gastroparesis is nerve damage, unrepairable. Medically, this is a confition that can only be managed, not treated, by diet and lifestyle chioces. Staring me in the face is a rather overwhelming world of facts and future of this condition. This is hard, on a physical level, to come to terms with the thought that regardless of what happens from here on, my life will not be the same again. Just physically speaking, food and eating (or rather not, and not being able to) is pretty much the main issue. My life is really quite daunting to think that I may not be able to eat some things again, nor in a manner that I was used to or took for granted. This goes so much further than just maintaining your body with nutrients - and I am discovering what a huge influence food has over one's life - and just what it means when it is ripped away. It is very easy to become complacent about something that we don't really have to think about - we all eat and live. But man, I am getting a new perspective on this too and it certainly is not easy! This will be one of the things I hope to elaborate on as I slowly overcome this fight with food.

Food is obviously a problem. Well, not just food, but eating, keeping it down, and actually digesting it - or at least getting it to the intestines! My dear gastroenterologist, professional as he is, simply discharged me with a medical diagnosis and no real day to day living/eating plans - I was given instructions to go home and eat - despite the unaltered vomiting and food intolerance issues., which still were not resolved after I left hospital the first time. This, uh, 'plan' didn't really didnt work, and I have had to, through some internet reasearch, discover myself a bit more about this condition and its management. There is a great deal more to it than one might think, and some cases are so severe that those with the conditions can have periods of many hospital trips and severe enough problems to require surgical implantation of stomach/bypass feeding tubes for weeks at a time. I pray it never gets that serious.
 So, back to the eating. It is currently very limited! This is partially due to the fact that this stomach has been upset for so long and is also irritated in form of a bacterial/food intolerance problem, to add to the condition.

What I can't eat:
Anything high in fibre, as it takes too long to digest and forms stomach masses. This means most raw foods, beans, lentils, meats, fruit, veges... Nuts, dates, etc, grains, an
Anything high in fat. This is because this also tajes a long time to digest.
My own current intolerances to wheat, straight dairy, anything with acid like tomato, cheese, pasta, bread, etc. this is because of the vomiting snd it is far better to aviod these foods than tolerate the very bad reflux/vomiting or painful cramps that ladt for days.
Now, take yourself shopping and think, without all these.... What can I eat??? It is pretty mininal. So, needless to say, this has been a huge struggle because, for me, it affects everything right now.
All that looks pretty depressing and I wil admit, the hardest thing has been wondering if I will ever be able to eat normally again, whatever that be. So let's not dwell on the negatives too much. I will be writing up my own thoughts on food soon as this is going to be an ongoing issue for me - whether I want it to be or not. Now see why my world is screwed up? And that is only the physical.

The Here and Now - Reality.

I am not really one for writing up huge long lists of personal information and have long ago given up writing pointless waffle, because that is all it is... But! I do feel as though I may be making a few exceptions to my own rules, so to speak. Now is the time to take the leap past wondering what some might think and begin writing anyway. Because I need to.

I do feel as though I need some sort of beginning point of reference though. As some of my friends may or may not know, I have been very sick of late. Now I do not intend to write nonsense simply in that regard, but I am going to include this for a few very important reasons.

1. Because of this, my life has drastically altered. Not just physically, but all I know is being turned upside down, and shaken apart - and I am beginning to have to form new perspectives and, although I am often unwilling, God is slowly working away at my ideals and motives. So, why is this so important? Because basically, because of circumstances I cannot change, physically, and much further, I cannot alter time nor change what has happened. I do not intend to turn this into a whining session but the truth is, this is reality for me right now, and regardless of the varied opinions of others (none of which I disregard of course) this is the now. Bear with me while I try to explain some of my new struggle - and in a way that might help some understand what and how. (Nevermind the why, I do not even have priviledge of knowing that, thanks God.)

2. God is obviously up to something in my life right now. It's pretty messy, and as I mentioned all my own thoughts are beginning to alter and I am having my thinking changed big time. Why, I don't know. God must have decided it was time for a character purification. They say that 'the fire does not destroy, it only refines.' I am beginning to learn just how painful that is.

3. We are all, in some ways or other, wrong. No bashing intended, but it is time for me to see my own heart attitude and its apparent need for change. It is amazing how much of what we believe should be what we base our lives on. I will elaborate on that later, to some degree. God is certainly changing my perspective here on things I didn't even know were important or wrong - simple things like what I value, appreciate and enjoy - and most importantly, why. Prepare to have your motives changed (as I am having mine) during the next few times I write about these many revelations.

4. This is going to be difficult. My life has hardly just started and I am not going to write years of history - but I do feel that this is a turning point in my life and this 'journey' or 'struggle', so to speak of mine should be recorded, in sorts. I really do feel that perhaps some of my writings will, in time, be beneficial to someone, even if they are just browsing google for articles. My friends or complete strangers, I hope, pray and believe this is something God is going to help me do.

5. I am taking experience and learning from the problem, but not dwelling on it. I will use a mountain, or a valley as an example. It is so hard to see the end of the road from where you are, be that the beginning , middle, or even close to the end. Let's say this will be my journey following that barely visible glimmer of hope.

6.  There has to be an outcome from this. God does not allow suffering for no reason and despite everything, I want to believe (and will, I hope in time) that there is some huge, great purpose that I am, of course, not seeing in this small picture. The big picture. Iam reminded now of a verse which God actually showed me this morning. 

"I cry out to God most high, to God, who fulfils his purpose for me." ( ~ Psalm 57:2)

So I must believe that this means he has got a purpose and that it is there working away somewhere, regardless of if I can see itor reason with it.

7. I am not simply being a drama queen! This is real, and hard, and while my troubles are not any more terrible than anyone elses' , they are still going to be a part of who I am, who I have been, who I am becoming and my future as a Christian, person, etc. My only hope is that my sharing is uplifting and something good comes from it.

Yep, I think that may have actually finally ended. There is so much more I could and, am sure, will eventually say, but as a little introduction I hope and pray it is sufficient. For those of you who do make the effort to read through my revelations and thoughts, thank you. It is something I am not doing lightly and is all new to this character building business that God is up to. Much appreciated.

~Anna