The Dream Giver

There is a beautiful sunset outside right now. Gorgeous pinks and purples shimmering around and through the clouds. Did you ever notice that the most beautiful sunsets appear when there are clouds in the sky? In fact, the more clouds, the more opportunity for the sun rays to shine through the moisture of the clouds and create such beautiful colors.

I promise I’m not going all scientific on you right now. It’s just an amazing analogy of life. Of my life. The more difficult things become, the easier it is for God’s light and love to shine through it and make everything around me beautiful. I’m find that out through experience right now. Really, things haven’t been all peaches and cream since I got back from Iowa City. Am I doing well? I think I’m doing pretty well. I’m “stable” at least. But are things still hard? Definitely. Do I still screw up? For sure. But I need to keep on going. I refuse to let this eating disorder take any more of my life than it already has. I refuse to give up. I refuse to let go of hope. I KNOW it’s there. It’s shining through, but sometimes all I can see are the storm clouds around me. But I’m learning. I think. Sometimes I wish I learned things a little faster. Like how to plan when and what I’m going to eat. It’s frustrating for me sometimes, because I need to put so much energy into planning meal times and what I’m going to eat, but at the same time I’m trying to step OUT of the eating disorder and not let it control my life. It’s a never-ending paradox with which I am going to have to find a way to live.

It’s a ridiculous life. But it’s my life. And I need to just accept it for what it is and go with it. Maybe someday things will be different. Maybe not. But I don’t need to waste my today thinking about tomorrow and what could be.

My name is Kate.

And I should be dead.

I don’t know another way to explain it to you other than straightforward. And I’ve been anything but that the last few months. The last eleven years. I’ve lied and lied, and covered up things until I was blue in the face, and it got me as far as Mary Greeley Medical Center and University of Iowa Hospitals. Yeah. Not very far.

I’m anorexic.

Rather, I’m a recovering anorexic. And I’ve been terrified to tell anyone other than my closest friends because I’m afraid of being rejected. I’m afraid that people will look at me differently or whisper behind my back about “that girl who doesn’t eat”. But you know what? I’m done with that. I’m done caring what other people think. Because, like Courtney says (and a few others) my real friends aren’t going anywhere. And the people who do mind were never really my friends to begin with. So I don’t care what you think. I don’t care if you whisper about me. I don’t care if you all stop talking when I walk into a room. I don’t mind if you ask me questions or talk about it, because I’m recovering. I’m getting better. I need to talk about it. I need to be honest. Covering up things and lying was part of what landed me locked up for 3 months. I’d rather not repeat that. I have a life to live.

I know what God thinks of me. I know what my friends think of me. And I’m even learning what I think of myself.

I am beautiful.

I am loved.

I am a child of God.

And what matters more than that?

I’m going to pretend it’s two months ago. I’m going to pretend I just got home after being gone three months. I’m going to go back to that day and make some changes.

I need to be honest with you guys. I need to stop keeping secrets and hiding things. I need to stop watching what I say so I don’t have to cover anything up.

I need to be Kate.

That’s better. I haven’t lied to anyone but myself. I haven’t spread rumors about anyone except myself. I haven’t, therefore, hurt anyone but myself. Right? That’s where I’m wondering if I’m right or wrong. I’ve had a hard time being “just Kate” because I haven’t even been entirely sure who that is. And trust me, I’ve had a lot of time to think about it.

Three months, actually. So here I am, reflecting on why I’m so afraid to just be myself. Will people reject me? So what. Will God reject me? Never. Will I reject myself? Not if I’m truly being who God created me to be. So what’s stopping me then? Fear. Just. General. Fear. And I need to face it head on and put it to the test. Just like the “hate experiment” in Iowa City, I need to stop trying to read other peoples’ minds and what they might or might not be thinking about me, and I need to instead just be the person that Kate truly is. I shouldn’t HAVE to think about “who I am” or “what defines me”. I should just BE. Like Courtney said, Nothing “defines me” unless I let it. Being myself is not “defining myself”. It’s just putting myself out there, unashamed of anything. Because, after all, I have nothing to be ashamed of. All I have is God’s amazing love and healing that has saturated my life, and changed my life. All I have is the life giving breath of God that is filling up my lungs every second of every minute of every hour of my life.

I am Kate. I am the girl that wants to twirl and spin in the rain, lifting her face toward the sky, as if Jesus is holding her hands as she takes in the beauty of the rain. I am the girl who stares in wonder at the stars and their beauty, imagining how huge God’s love must be for her for Him to create all the universes just for us. I am the girl who jumps from airplanes and soars down to earth, feeling the breath and touch of God holding her and smiling as she just wants to experience everything. She just wants to live. Fully. Unashamed as she sings worship songs loudly with her windows rolled down.
But I am also the girl who has experienced pain. Not as much some, and maybe more than others. But the amount of pain is not the issue – how much  and how it affected her is the important thing. And how or if she lets it continue to affect her. I am the girl who remembers pain as she looks down at her wrists, but I am also the girl that smiles when she remembers how God loved her and showed her so much grace and mercy and took that part of her life away. I am the girl who has cried herself to sleep, alone and away from home and friendships, fighting the hardest battle she’s ever fought. And that battle is against herself. Or against evil. She’s not entirely sure where the line is drawn, but there are parts of both.

This girl – myself – is done hiding. I’m done avoiding conversations just because it might “reveal” something about me that I’m not sure I want people to know. I’m done pretending I’m always okay. I’m happy. Sunshiney. But even the sunshine is sometimes overtaken by clouds and rain.

So here I am. Two months after leaving the University of Iowa Hospital. Three months there opened my eyes to things. Will the eating disorder ever be completely gone? Does it matter? It’s who I am right now, and I  need to learn to be okay with that. I need to stop fighting myself and trying to pretend that it doesn’t exist. The honest truth? It DOES exist and I am still fighting it every day. I just don’t have to be in the hospital for it anymore. But this is me. All of me. And I’m not ashamed of it anymore.

I know, I know. It’s Tuesday. But I’m doing this anyways, because it’s a cool idea. Next week I’ll post it on Monday. Scout’s Honor.

I most definitely DID NOT, upon realizing I was out of orange juice, make myself a root beer float for breakfast. That is something I would NEVER do.

And, of course, I did NOT take myself to the Hannah Montana movie after Bible study was canceled, sit through it with only FIVE other people, and then proceed to cry through most of it. That is something I would NEVER do. NOT ME!

I did NOT wait until the morning of the 30th to mail my state taxes and my COBRA insurance information. The day both were due. And, there is NO WAY that I waited until the late hours of the 29th to DO my taxes or fill out the insurance information. I would NEVER wait until the very last minute to do those things. Oh, and I did NOT drive to the post office in my pajamas OR ask the post man at the door for a stapler to staple my taxes together because I didn’t own a stapler. And, there’s no WAY that I went to WalMart that afternoon to buy a stapler so I wouldn’t be in that position ever again. NOT ME!

And finally, I did NOT spend an afternoon deciding whether or not popcorn counted as a vegetable, only to be told that corn is not even considered a vegetable. And of course, I did NOT proceed to eat popcorn anyways and count it as a vegetable because my stubborn mind will not change that corn is indeed a vegetable, so popCORN must be, too.

Not me!!

I’m not entirely sure why the title of this post ended up as it did. Part of it came from tonight when I nearly burned my apartment down. Some words of advice – never leave a plastic bown on the stove and then turn on the WRONG burner! Needless to say, there was a lot of smoke and melting plastic, but no flames. But as I’m sitting here now thinking about it, what would I do if there was a fire here? What would I grab before jumping out the window or running out the door? What’s THAT important to me that I MUST have it? Obviously, in the moment I probably wouldn’t think of it, and I know that I “can’t take anything with me” when I die. But it got me thinking to what I think is important to hold on to. So, if my apartment was burning down, what would I make sure I grabbed before leaving?

*Alita. Duh.

*My Bible. Of course, that is replaceable, but my notes and things inside it are not

*My external hard drive. It has my exhaustive journal on it. All 750 pages of it.

*The few journals that I have not typed onto the above mentioned hard drive.

*As many photos as I could get my hands on.

Really, though, as I thought about that just now, there’s not a whole lot I would really want to hold on to. I’d love to take my snowboard. Or my dried roses that each mean something important. But I wouldn’t risk my life to save them. Anyhow. I don’t know why that was the subject of my blog. Just something I was thinking about, I guess.

Things here are going all right. I’m getting into the routine of work just in time for my hours to be cut next week. I’m a little bit stressed about that, because I have a lot of bills to pay, and a car that needs to be brought in AGAIN. (I just took it in a week ago.) I know that God will take care of me. I just hate being in this position. And who knows what the summer will bring. But aside from that, I’m loving my job. It’s starting to hit me that I don’t have to go back to nights in a week. This is for GOOD. I can sleep at night. I can relax. I can get into a routine and not have to worry about it being taken away.

I’ve watched a couple good movies lately. Both have been out for a while, but I still love them. I watched Pan’s Labyrinth a few days ago. I love that movie. It’s violent, I know. But the message resonates with me somehow. I could watch it over and over. I love the innocence portrayed among the war torn Spain. The other movie I watched (don’t kill me for this) was The Exorcism of Emily Rose. If you haven’t seen it, don’t judge it by its title. If you have seen it, comment and let me know what you thought of it. I do like that movie a LOT. For those of you who haven’t seen it, it is NOT a 2 hour long exorcism of the devil. It wraps around a trial of a priest accused of “killing” Emily Rose and the agnosticism of the defense attorney. Yes, it flashes back to Emily’s life and things that happened. But all in all, it really makes the possession of people more of a reality to me. I know it goes on. I know that satan gets in any way he can to torment us, but the movie makes me realize that it doesn’t just happen in other places or in mystical settings. Anyhow, I like it. Oh, and the Pan’s Labyrinth soundtrack is absolutely amazing. Listen to it sometime on iTunes. Totally. Rocks.

Okay, I’m going to head to sleep now. I don’t know why I put “Water” in the title of this post. I need to drink more of it. And it sounded cool.

There’s a yellow rose in a glass vase on my desk. It’s just starting to open further and it’s fragrance is beautiful. Who gave me this rose? I have no shame in telling you that I bought this rose for myself. Or that last Monday I bought a pink rose. And the Monday before that it was a red rose. What do they represent? Different things each week. Mostly for me to know. The yellow rose is a symbol of friendship.

There are a lot of changes in my life right now. Sunday night was my final night working overnights at the treatment center. While I’ll miss laughing with the awesome overnights, and the opportunity to be a leader in a sense, as the supervisor, I will not miss the job. I will not miss the nights, the crazy schedule, no sleep, and unhealthiness that the job promoted for me. I’ve been working as a pharmacy tech for two weeks, and I love it. (Yes, I was working both jobs for a couple weeks) It is challenging, fast paced sometimes, and the people I’m working with are great. I find time going much faster than at the treatment center because there is always something to do, especially now that I’m learning more and more things. It’s a new start to my life. It’s a new life, really. A new opportunity to be healthy, STAY healthy, and do what’s good for me, finally. I’ve spent so much of my life DOING for other people and trying to make everyone else happy, and I forgot that I needed to be happy, too. Unhappiness meant a lack of respect for myself, and that, of course, led me to Iowa City for three months. Now? I’m putting God ahead of everything. I’m taking care of myself, even when I don’t feel like it, and I’m learning to take things more slowly than before. It’s okay to not constantly be doing something. In fact, I kind of like it.

Of course, I miss some things from before. And I’m not going to never do any of them again. I’m planning on picking up some of my piano students in West Des Moines in the next couple weeks. I’ve just learned that I can’t do it all. I don’t WANT to do it all. I want to do the things I love doing, and not push myself to do things just because I think it will make other people happy.

I like changes.

It’s a beautiful thing, Easter. From such darkness and cold to a new beginning. A new chance. A new life. I don’t think we appreciate the meaning of Easter nearly enough. Of course, we know and believe that Jesus died on the cross for our sins and that because of Him we have access to God and to heaven. But there’s so much more that I think we overlook. The “churchspeak” of Easter has become almost mundane, and I find myself this year really looking deeper into what this Easter Sunday really means. New Life. What does that mean? It’s represented in nature far better than most of us could ever explain. The leaves die and fall off the trees, leaving a skeleton of what was once beautiful. But even in the dark of autumn and winter, the beauty of the trees is not lost. The blazing colors of the changing leaves reminds me of the fires of hell that I belong in. But then the snow falls and leaves a blanket of pure spotless white over everything. The fire is quenched. The flames are gone. And we wait in that silence that only comes during winter for the promise of change. And then, it happens! Slowly at first, so that we barely recognize the small changes. And then one day, it seems, we wake up to find the world awash in a sea of tiny green leaves that seem to have appeared overnight. Our hearts leap because we have proof that spring is finally coming. What before was merely something we hoped would happen soon has finally become a reality. The blanket of white melts away, leaving new life blossoming everywhere; resurrecting a hope in us of newness and change. That, my friends, is what Jesus did for us. He covered the flames of hell with a spotless and pure covering and waited until it was time. Then, he rose and walked among his friends, who were so blind they didn’t recognize him at first. And then, suddenly, He was there. And there was new life. Hope. A promise.

It seems like I’m updating monthly now. That’s not intentional. I could be updating a lot more often than that since I happen to have quite a bit of time on my hands right now. I’ll work on that.

It’s the weekend, which means I’m back in Boone for a couple days. I haven’t done much yet, and really don’t have much planned, either. I went to HyVee this morning for milk and quarters. I did my laundry, which was much needed. I felt the softness of my “new” Goodwill sweatshirt that I’m pretty in love with. It smells better now. I can wear it without thinking I’m a tramp. I printed off some tax forms. Notice I didn’t say I started my taxes. I just printed off the forms I think I’m going to need and put them in a nice, neat, little stack for next week or some lonely night this week. I’m afraid to do them, honestly. I already owe so much money to people and places and the thought of owing the government more just doesn’t sit well with me. I took out most of my scrapbooking stuff, too. Not really to scrapbook so much as to organize it. That was one of my goals on my weekend planning sheet. Not that I have to follow it exactly, because I most definitely am NOT, but I thought it might be nice to re-organize my closet, and that starts with the scrapbooking stuff.

There will be no more snowboarding this season unless we get a huge blizzard and Seven Oaks reopens. I doubt that will happen. It’s just as well, though, since I sprained my ankle last Saturday going off the jump. It was worth it. I was laughing. And flat on my face. Whee!

So like I said, I have nothing planned for today. That’s not actually a good thing right now. I really need to be around people right now, especially when I’m supposed to be eating. That’s the hard part this weekend. Everyone’s so busy, and I still hate asking people for things. So if you’re reading this, consider it me asking you. One of these days I’ll get brave and assertive and ask you aloud. Really. It will happen some day. I promise. It’s 3:30pm and I’m feeling melencholy. I’m not entirely sure why. Mostly because even though I’m “home” in Boone, the world still seems to be moving around me without me. I’m not back in it. I’m the outsider who comes home once a week for a couple days, sits in her apartment, and wishes that she was part of the world again. Part of her world. I know things are going to change once I’m really back. But I feel so useless and in the way right now. Maybe I’ll just stay in Iowa City next weekend like it was suggested to me. (It wasn’t suggested to me in a negative way). That way, I could just sit in the coffee shop, minding my own business, all day long, and not bother anyone else. That’s kinda where I’m at right now. Call it whatever you want, but unless you’ve been away for two months pretty much totally disconnected from your life, with only the phone and internet to stay in touch with people you love, don’t question my feelings. It’s hard. Yes I’ve talked to people online and even a little on the phone, but that’s not the same. It’s not the same as seeing people. Hugging people. Feeling part of something.

Right now I don’t really feel like a part of anything.

I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve updated this thing. There’s been so much going on, and yet so little going on. If you didn’t already know, I’m currently in Iowa City, on FMLA from my job, and at UIHC. I’m sure I could tell you loads more, but if you know me, I’m pretty sure you already know the story. Regardless, things are going well, and I’m hoping to be home in a month or so for good. As of right now, I’m anxiously awaiting next weekend, which I hope will be my first time home in Boone since January 2. I’m still trying to find someone who would be willing to either drive my car over here this week so I have it to drive home, or who would be willing to pick me up Friday evening here and drive me back to Boone so I can get my own car. If there are any takers on either part…. please please please tell me! I want to go home more than just about anything right now. But I’m not walking.

I get to go shopping today. And tomorrow. I’m pretty excited about that. Actually, I’m pretty excited about being OUTSIDE this hospital period, but the shopping is just an added bonus. Anyhow, thanks for all the prayers and support you all have given me the last month and a half. You know who you are, and I can’t even begin to express in words how much it means to me.

It’s Christmas Day! I hope everyone is having a wonderdul and safe Christmas filled with family, friends, food, fun, and remembering why we celebrate this holiday. It’s hard to imagine the savior of the entire world as a crying baby lying in a little manger, totally helpless and dependent on other people. But that’s what He was, and that’s how humble he became for us.

Amazing, right? Think about it. The King of the world. For us. Did He have to come that way? No. Of course not. He could have come majestically. But He will come again that way soon. For now, though, remember the manger and the humility that it shows. And remember Bethlehem. And then remember the cross.

Merry Christmas.