Freedom
To be free from something
Unhindered, unrestrained, unbound from that which keeps captive
For the latter part of my teen years and into my twenties I was bound. Bound to a disorder, addiction – doesn’t matter what you want to call it, it owned me. It consumed me, my life, who I was, how I thought, how I saw things, my behavior, and my choices. I missed much of what was really going on around me (people, events, things that mattered) because the reality in my head was an obsession with my disorder. It was the nucleus of my entire existence and I needed to stay in control of my addiction. Control. What a joke.
It’s a game of control.
Controlling your feelings. (“I don’t want to feel this way.”)
Controlling your thoughts. (“I don’t want to think this way.”)
Controlling your coping mechanism. (“I don’t want to deal with my dysfunction.”)
But you’re not really even in control, are you?
If you’ve ever lived with an addiction or psychological disorder, you know exactly what I’m talking about. We think that we’re in control of our choice to go back to the thing that bound us or gave us some temporary relief from the harsh realities of our lives. BUT in all actuality, it’s only a matter of time before it is controlling us again. How we live, how we move, how we make decisions, it’s steering this ship and the ship is heading into the abyss. We aren’t in control of anything anymore. We are soon looking for a safe way to jump ship but not really. Scared but unwilling to walk out on what may seem to be the only consistent force in our lives that will compliment the ‘fix’ we need. Yes, it’s unhealthy. Yes, we all know this.
My struggle was an eating disorder. Bulimia and I were best friends for close to twelve years. The eating disorder Bulimia (Bulimia Nervosa) also brought with it the ugliness of mental and emotional disorders, depression, obsessive compulsive disorders, and all the physical medical issues. I’m not going to go into all the reasons I can come up with as to why I opened the door to an eating disorder because it’s not time to yet. I can tell you that opening the door to addiction was easy and walking through it was even easier. I even enjoyed hanging out with my disorder for a while, it did what I wanted and no one was the wiser. That is, until I didn’t enjoy its company anymore. I was physically and mentally feeling the effects of bondage to my addiction. What I had thought was a place I controlled in my life now controlled me. No one told me that once I walked through the door that it would lock behind me.
It’s kind of crazy how you can convince yourself that eventually the habits you’ve created will just disappear. That you would ‘age-out’ of your disorder and it’ll just slowly fade away. That when the cosmos and the planets align at just the right time POOF! your world will be perfect – pain and addiction free. Isn’t it crazy?? But I think sometimes we choose to believe things that are obviously ridiculous to just survive. And that’s what I did. Played all the sports, graduated high school, went to college for a bit, had a baby, worked a lot, got married, had more babies, moved and lived with my disorder. We did it all together. Me and my disorder. Best friends, remember? It’s like those abusive, unhealthy friends you hear about. But I had one nobody couldn’t see. So, basically an imaginary friend. An imaginary friend from a horror movie that was infiltrating every area of my life.
Then freedom came.
A neighbor invited me to church.
I went.
And that began my relationship with God. An exchange was made – through the sacrifice of His Son, Jesus. My dysfunction for His freedom. My disorder for His truth. My addiction for His promise. He held the key that unlocked the door. And He unlocked it. I just needed to walk out of the room. That freedom, truth, and promise were mine but I had choices to make. My mind, will, and emotions had been working together with my disorder for so long that there was some work I needed to do. I needed to believe I was free, know the truth, and hold onto the promise. Every moment of every day of every week. I had to choose freedom over and over again. I read books. I asked questions. I studied – my addiction AND myself. I learned what to do when my addiction came calling. I learned to anticipate when the insecurity crept in to give way to my disorder. It was work. A lot of work. It took a whole lot of time. Old habits really do die hard.
I am no longer bound to my eating disorder but I most certainly can go back to it. I most certainly can. Occasionally I hear it calling. Occasionally it even seems to be knocking at my front door. I have a choice whether I’ll answer or not. It’s a choice. To be presented with a choice to choose freedom or to choose bondage sounds like insanity to anyone who hasn’t struggled in this way. It seems like an easy choice, it seems like the obvious choice – choose freedom, duh. Well, freedom can be really freakin’ hard. Choosing freedom is exhausting. It means work, and denying our physical longings, and shutting down the shouting voices in our heads. Anxiety, worry, exhaustion, expectations, confusion, fear, and the pressures of life have your addiction and disorder on speed dial and it takes everything you’ve got to silent the call before it’s answered. It’s hard stuff. I won’t make light of how hard the decision is. But here it is.
I believe freedom is a decision.
I choose the freedom that Jesus gives.
It works for me.
And I believe it works for everyone.
Some days it’s harder than others.
But I still choose Him.
And I have yet to regret it.
Fridays Are For Writing 