I remember the day I gave up. It was the Summer of 1999. It was a Sunday evening after church. It was hot and humid. I was wearing black denim shorts in the smallest size I had owned up to that point in time, and a white, lacy blouse(this picture was taken a few days later). I was depressed after the demise of an important relationship. I couldn’t see through the black cloud of despair to recognize anything good about myself. I didn’t care that I had lost 125 pounds. I didn’t care that I had a good job, a house, and a family who loved me. All I could see was failure. I remember driving home and deciding that my life didn’t matter anymore. So I began to eat.
I thought eating would somehow take away the pain so I perfected the art. I ceased caring about my body because my heart was so wholly ravaged with pain. Nothing anyone said could fix me, so emotionally I lay down and died.
There were other destructive behaviors and consequences I won’t go into here, but fourteen years later I distinctly remember feeling as if any hope of personal happiness died at that moment. All of that to say, depression is powerful and distinctly personal. The only way to survive it is to walk through it. I remember realizing God wasn’t going to enter into my pain with me. I was completely alone. And I made decision after conscious decision with that in mind. The “church people” had let me down. The person I was in love with let me down. Bring on the Recess Peanut Butter cups. Honestly, that’s what I thought.
I watched my weight balloon from 165 pounds to 180 pounds to 200 pounds and eventually to 310 pounds. Every time life got hard or the pain compounded, I bought a bag of chocolate or spent a day in the kitchen baking cookies. I knew exactly what I was doing. Sweets were the band aid on the crack in my dam of pain.
Not everyone eats to feel better. Some people just like to eat. Losing the weight the second time forced me to deal with my emotional issues. I learned that I could no longer use food as a crutch. I would have to deal with my pain head on. And let me tell you, it was really hard. But facing my issues, while painful, was extremely liberating. I have a deep faith in God and I learned that while people fail me constantly, He never abandoned me, even if I perceived that He did. I derived so much pleasure from my early morning walks in the beginning(I still do) as I talked out all my problems with Him and worked out solutions. For those that don’t believe, I’m not proselytizing. I’m just sharing my experience. I don’t feel I could have lost the weight without my faith. It was the sustaining force through many days when I wanted to give up.
Recently my grandma said to me, “Margaret, you’ve come a long way.” I think I was talking to her about self-confidence and insecurities. I used to think my extended family didn’t like me at all. I thought they were only nice because they had to be. I skipped family gatherings because I thought they knew me only as a complete and utter failure and didn’t want me there. I couldn’t understand why they were nice to my face when they certainly thought I was a mess. I missed out on so many things because I had locked my mindset into “Margaret sucks” mode. My low opinion of myself infected every aspect of my life, and while much of that was childhood baggage, I think that failed relationship, in many ways, was the germ that caused my insecurities to metastasize. Rejection can do that.
In short, I let my emotions get the better of me. I believed the lies I told myself, that I was no good, that I didn’t deserve to be happy, that I needed to settle for less than the best. And while I can see now that God is using that for good in my life, I wish I didn’t have to learn the hard way.
Today, if you are struggling with something, be it healthy living, depression, shattered expectations or even just a crappy job situation, don’t fall into the trap of believing your life is over. Use that experience as a stepping stone to better things. I’m not saying you shouldn’t be sad, or that you shouldn’t grieve. Maybe you have every right to be angry. Get a bat and whack a tree! But don’t take it out on yourself. At the risk of sounding cliché, you are good enough, you are smart enough and gosh darn it, people like you. If you get into a pattern of negative thinking, take a moment to write down all of the good things you can think of about yourself. If you can’t find anything, call someone you know loves you and make them tell you why you are valuable. If you believe in God, talk to Him about your troubles and ask Him for help. If you don’t, maybe that’s a place to start.
Today is a new day. It may not be a perfect day but it may be your last day, so don’t let it end with a self-defeating attitude. I know it’s easier said than done. But I also know that the day I recognized that my life was worth living, that I could say no to food as my drug of choice, that there was hope—THAT was the day I went from self-loathing, bruised and broken Margaret to the person you see today. I hardly recognize the old me, even though all those old memories are still intact.
Last night my husband picked up a photo album. I am attaching the photo he looked at. Do you know what he said? “Wow! I had forgotten how heavy you were.” Then he looked at me with a smile and said, “Margaret, I loved you then.” My only regret is that I wish I would have loved myself.
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