“Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial, because having stood the test, they will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.” – James 1:12

On February 26, 2019, I was admitted to a residential treatment facility for an eating disorder. Let me just say, that was not in the plan. Not in my plan anyway. I spent the entire month of March there, and was discharged about 2 weeks ago. March 2019 was the hardest month of my life, no competition. But it was also the most important. That month in a random town in Illinois, God changed my life in ways I never would have imagined. He took me at my very lowest and set my soul on fire for sharing my story. More specifically, sharing His story.

Let’s back up a little farther to August 2018. After a long summer at home, I was finally back at my favorite place: Central Methodist University. It was the start of my sophomore year studying music education. My heart was so full. If you know me, you know how much I love school. I’m that person who gets to class 10 minutes early, lives by a planner, actually loves homework, never misses class….you get the idea. My whole life was school and music. Wake up, go to class all day, do homework, practice, and do it all over again. But I loved it. I was so excited to finally be back in my element with all my favorite people. I had a lot of hopes for the semester and the year. This was going to be my year. I was going to work all hours of the day to become the best musician I could be. I wasn’t going to have any problems or struggles (ha). Everything was supposed to go right. Right with the plan.

Pretty soon I found out that God had a different plan.

I had only been at school a few weeks when I heard this voice in my head. I wasn’t sure where it was coming from or where it would lead me. It just kind of showed up. This voice presented me with an idea. One day it whispered to me, “You should lose weight.” I had heard this voice before. A lot of times actually, but I never did anything about it. I had always just pushed it away. But this time, things were different. This time there was a new suggestion: a number. A goal weight. A weight that was not healthy for me, but it was oh so satisfying to that little voice. The plan was to get to that goal weight, and then I’d be happy. But if the past 6 months have taught me anything, it’s that nothing goes as planned.

I’ve never had a good relationship with food. My whole life I’ve been a picky eater and had a lot of anxiety towards eating. I realized that being on my own in college, I could make my own decisions regarding food. I could lose weight and avoid those high anxiety situations. It started with skipping a meal every now and then. Harmless, right? That’s what the voice told me. I can cut out breakfast, no one eats breakfast anyway. And if I physically feel fine, then I am fine, right? After breakfast was completely cut out, that little voice had a new challenge, “What else can you cut out?” Then it almost became a game. Just how far was I willing to go for what I wanted?……or what I thought I wanted. Or really, what that voice wanted.

This went on for months. Diving further and further into this sickness that I still denied having. That little voice in my head? Not so little anymore. In December, the voice I had been listening to for months finally had a name. I’ll never forget hearing that name for the first time. I still don’t like saying it. I decided to just call it “ED voice.” Even after hearing the diagnosis from my therapist, I still didn’t want to believe it. I told myself over and over that I wasn’t sick enough to have an eating disorder. To me, I was doing great. I knew that this wasn’t really normal or healthy, but there was no way I was sick enough to have a diagnosis.

After Christmas break, things really started to go downhill. My entire day revolved around food. Just about every minute of the day, my ED voice was screaming something at me. I couldn’t focus on school, I couldn’t focus through piano lessons. Professors and friends became more worried. Something had to change. Deep down I knew it, but ED voice was the one in charge. And ED voice was telling me to keep going, I was so close to my goal. I couldn’t give up now. Just a few more pounds and then this would all be over. Right?

But here’s the thing about eating disorders: it’s never enough. I never hit my goal weight. I was just a few pounds away, but I never got there. I know now that if I did hit that number, it wouldn’t have solved anything. There would’ve been a new number to hit, and the cycle would continue.

After weeks of appointments with the best doctor, dietician, and therapist, multiple draws of bloodwork, many attempts at a meal plan, and concern from everyone around me, it was time for something different. I couldn’t keep going on like this. I had started seeing a new therapist and in our first session, she recommended residential treatment. I had talked to her for 45 minutes and she knew that was what I needed. Between her, my nutritionist, and my doctor, they all were in agreement. Although ED voice was louder than ever, my healthy voice was alive, deep down. And the tiny bit of healthy voice left was what I needed.

This was not in the plan. How would I manage school? Would I have to take the semester off? What would I tell all of my family that had no idea? Where do you even go for this kind of thing? There were so many questions and fears and unknowns. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to leave my friends and my school. But at this point, I didn’t have a choice.

After what seemed like 800 phones calls to insurance and hours of research, I checked into Timberline Knolls on February 26, the 2nd day of National Eating Disorder Awareness Week. The theme for NEDA Week this year was “Come As You Are.” I could do a whole separate blog post just on February 26, and I probably will. That was the day everything changed. That was the first day in months I felt some kind of hope. It was time to take care of me. It was time to enjoy life again.

It was time to get my life back.

And that’t just what I did.