Why is it that we have such a fear of failure?
Why is it that it is so easy to lie and to shut down when we struggle?
Today, I was having dinner with a very wonderful sister. And one of the first questions out of her mouth was: "How are you?"
That was such a lie.
She knew it. I knew it. God knew it.
But here's the thing, even when she asked me about something very close to the thing I was struggling with, I couldn't bring myself to tell her the truth about what's been going on in my life.
Because the truth is scary.
It's so much easier to hide from the pain. To take a pill to make me numb and not have to work this all out. To hide from people so that they won't notice that I'm not okay. To comfort someone else, when it's you who needs the comforting.
Let's be honest here:
Life is hard. And it hurts. And gosh darn it, we need each other.
But living authentically, saying what is in our hearts, what is paining us, what we are struggling with, it sucks.
Because what if that means I'm failing?
What if that means you won't love me?
What if that means that I'm not who you want me to be?
But here's the thing about eating disorders and depression:
Your recovery grows in proportion to your level of honesty and communication with those around you who love you.
There are no secrets in recovery.
And there should be no secrets between sisters.
Especially when you know that they will only continue to love you.
So here goes nothing.
I'm struggling with my depression and eating disorder.
I'm struggling with being around people and being social.
I'm struggling with asking for help.
I'm struggling with admitting to myself that I may still need help.
I'm struggling with the idea of Jesus.
I'm struggling with shame.
I'm struggling with my view of myself.
I'm struggling with my view of others.
And I'm hurting.
So very much.
There's this voice in my head that tells me that I need to have this together right now. That I either need to have all of this together or that I need to allow myself to completely relapse into the point of not functioning so that it would be more acceptable that I am struggling.
What kind of twisted thinking is this?
Friends, I'm struggling and I'm hurting.
I need you to know that.
And I need you to know that I'm struggling to reach out and tell you that.
That I don't know how to say those words to you.
That I don't know how to say that I need Jesus, that I don't know how to say that I'm failing, that I don't know how to be okay.
And somehow, this all has to be okay with me.
I have to make peace with the fact that I struggle and will continue to struggle.
I have to learn how to not be ashamed of being that girl who is in a continual fight with herself and her demons.
Will I stop feeling this way?
Will I ever stop struggling?
I don't have the answers.
I just have to keep walking through this mess.
To keep struggling.
And maybe, just maybe, this will all one day be a distant memory.
One can always hope.