Anorexia vs. Faith: The battle is on.

        Can anorexia and faith coincide smoothly, or are they fundamentally incompatible? Having had experience of both, and having tried my hardest to reconcile them, there has never been a time when I have been able to fully embrace, or be led by, both.

        One of the key aspects to anorexia, which is present in almost every case, is the need for control. Frustration over the lack of control in other areas of life, such as school, work, sport etc – which lead to the feeling that life is running away with you and you can’t quite keep a grip on it – manifests itself in the attitude to food: the one thing which you can definitely control. And yet we are called to surrender all control over our life to the God who created us for His purpose (something I am coming to terms with even more whilst considering my post-uni plans). 

        ‘I am the Lord your God… you shall have no other gods before me.’ (Exodus 20:2-3; NIV). Scripture tells us not to worship false gods, because it means we are not truly trusting our true God to do what is best for us. Anorexia is a selfish, manipulative illness that demands your full attention. It creeps into every aspect of your being until it places itself at the forefront of daily life and elevates itself to become a false god. You worship ‘Ana’ – the voice in your head – not by choice, but out of fear of disobeying her. Anorexia insists that it is your friend, and it knows what’s best for you. Yet inevitably ‘Ana’s plan’ differs significantly from God’s plan. In that sense, anorexia and faith in God are thoroughly incompatible. I don’t mean the faith that there is a God, I mean the deeper faith that He is the only one who can provide for us, the faith which leads us to truly hand over everything we are to Him: an act which is impossible when part of what we are has already been taken up by anorexia. 

        It seems ironic that I now write a blog specifically aimed at helping women in their walk with God when for me the years in which I should have been learning to be a woman were spent in the body of a child. When I first entered the hospital word went around the other inpatients that ‘The new girl is 8!’ – in fact I was 15. Whilst God was calling me out of childhood and into the plan He had set out for my life, anorexia was dragging me back down into an immature, helpless state. Rather than a child of God, I became an insecure, fearful child terrified of growing up.

        I know that many sufferers would disagree. I’ve read several stories of those who have been saved by their faith. But the truth is, when I was ill God saved me – medically speaking my heart should have given up long before I was admitted to hospital – but I couldn’t give back my life to Him. God never left me, I never lost faith that He existed, but at the centre of it all anorexia stood between us. God is always present for you, but anorexia prevents you from being present for Him. 

        He doesn’t want us to suffer, anorexia does. The hardest decision of all is to give up your relationship with Ana, but the greatest reward of all is regaining your relationship with the God who loves you more than Ana ever could.

        So, as far as I can tell:

Faith is life-giving. Anorexia sucks the life out of you.

Faith allows you to develop as a child of God. Anorexia ties you down and restricts your growth.

Faith calls you to freely sacrifice control. Anorexia steals it from you maliciously.

Faith offers the one true God who saves. Anorexia forces you to worship an idol who kills.

Faith reaffirms your identity in Christ. Anorexia tells you you’re worthless.

Faith gives freedom. Anorexia imprisons and isolates.

   

But most of all, anorexia encompasses your whole being, leaving little or nothing remaining to give to God.

From Unending Blues to the Good News

About a month ago I went to a new-ish worship festival called David’s Tent. I’d never heard of it before, and so had no idea what to expect. The premise was 24/3: continuous worship in a huge tent for 3 days straight (obviously not everyone was there all the time – sleep was acceptable). Having had 2 hectic years at university without being able to make it to any similar events due to work commitments and time pressures I was a little worried that I may have become out of the loop with the friendship group I was meeting up with. As soon as I arrived I realised I needn’t have had any such worries – I was made to feel as welcome as I would have been had I seen them only a week ago!

        The first evening I felt, against my will, slightly out of place. Since going to uni I’d remained Catholic but opted for the quieter, peaceful atmosphere of a very traditional church to escape from my unending busy schedule, and had been unable to find anywhere that embraced the charismatic renewal lifestyle I had been brought up in. I realised that in the past 2 years something had happened which I would never have expected prior to leaving home: I had become more accustomed to quiet, low-key prayer than lively praise and worship. 

        As the retreat went on I was very quickly reminded of why I’ve always loved worship, and just how much I could get out of it. I naturally became caught up in the glorious atmosphere of the presence of God, and found myself feeling completely at home. In fact it wasn’t just like being at home – it was as though I was returning home!

        What I hadn’t mentioned to anyone was that I wasn’t just there to experience the joyful buzz, I was there out of desperation. In the recent weeks the depression that I’d suffered with since I was 13 years old had been regaining strength to the extent that I was terrified of handing over all control to it once again. The plans I had spent so long working on for my life were being turned upside down by uncertainty about whether they were God’s plans or simply my own, I was suffering from severe stress around the workload for my degree and I generally felt utterly lost. But it was in one of the afternoon ‘breakout’ sessions – or talks – that I heard the phrase I had been sent there to hear: 

“God is breaking you so that you can know He is the only one who can satisfy you.” 

        The following day I was in a worship session led by Jesus Culture’s Bryan and Katie Torwalt. As they prepared to play a particular song they recounted the times that people had reported intense healing taking place whilst it was being sung, and listed the ailments that they felt God wanted to heal in that moment. I felt certain that God was trying to heal me of something, and when they said ‘sports injuries’ my attention automatically turned to my back, in which I’d suffered from a lot of pain for several months since a rowing injury. But as they prayed over these conditions something didn’t feel quite right. 

        It was then that Katie added clinical depression to the list. She stressed that it was serious enough to be medicated, which I was, and I knew God was speaking to me. As I sat curled up with my head on my knees I felt a friend praying over me, and as the Torwalts played the song I had a distinct vision of my hand holding a red balloon. God came and cut the string it was attached to, and as the balloon drifted away I began to rejoice at His healing power. But then He took me back to that image and I realised the hand was still holding the remaining section of string. I felt Him urging me to let go of the past and release the delusion that my depression made up my personality. As hard as I tried I couldn’t let go, and I resigned myself to the fact that maybe I just wasn’t ready, or wasn’t strong enough. Then, as the final chord of the song resounded from Bryan Torwalt’s guitar, I saw as clear as day the hand open and the string fall to the ground. It still takes effort to prevent myself giving in when life is tough, but since that moment I have felt a sense of peace and freedom which I’ve lacked for 7 years. The negative thoughts are fewer and less intense, and when they come I am now able to hand them completely over to the Lord.

        Mine is just one of several accounts of being healed of depression I’ve heard recently. THIS IS GOD’S YEAR OF HEALING!!

When stereotyping goes too far… the ‘mental patient’ costume controversy.

        All publicity is good publicity. Well, in the case of the recent controversy surrounding the ‘mental patient’ costumes on sale at various supermarket chains in the UK, that may well be the case. It is rare that an organic, natural opportunity for fighting stigma arises – most of the time we see well planned-out print campaigns or dedicated charity efforts. But today something incredible happened. A spontaneous outbreak on Twitter as a response to the public outrage at such costumes being on sale well and truly put sceptics in their place about the strength of mental health campaigners.

        ‘Mind’ charity and the ‘Time to Change’ campaign combined forces to challenge Twitter users to tweet pictures of their own ‘mental patient’ costume, with the emphasis being on the idea – the fact! – that such an outfit is not fancy dress, but merely identical to the every-day dress code of the general public. In other words: I, as a former ‘mental patient’, am exactly like any one of you. I do not, apparently contrary to the opinion of Halloween costume designers, have un-combed hair, wear a blood stained, torn-up nightie, or carry an axe for those oh-so-common moments when I lose control of my own behaviour and feel compelled to hack into the nearest unfortunate passer-by. 

        Responses to the call for more realistic portrayals included photos of a former inpatient on her recent wedding day, several people wearing jeans and T-shirts going about their daily business, and a man in a suit on his way to work. All of whom had suffered from some form of mental health condition. Nowhere to be seen were any abnormalities or deviations from the accepted social norm. 

        With such regular focus in the news on the stigma surrounding mental health, and whether it is necessary, it seems unbelievable that in 2013 supposedly family-orientated supermarkets would deem it acceptable to display such disgusting suggestions. Whilst schools are working hard to teach children tolerance of individual differences based on an anti-discrimination viewpoint, they are simultaneously being presented with the paradoxical image of a wholly false stereotype during standard shopping trips with their parents.

        Despite the scope of the modern internet era, you may wonder how a Twitter movement, with its limited target market, can change the views of an opinionated society. The fact is that to change many we must begin with changing one. Each one person who encounters the #mentalpatient phenomenon which, incidentally has gone as far as to be trending on Twitter, will be confronted with the reality that mental patients, as they have been thoughtlessly dubbed by the supermarkets in question, are in so many respects exactly the same as anyone else, and so we have no cause to fear them – as suggested by advertisements proclaiming ‘everyone will run away from you in fear… it’s a terrifying Halloween option!’

       Twitter, and the brave people who have shared their stories, I salute you.