I have an eating disorder. It's not a "big" important one, like anorexia or bulimia, but its still unhealthy. Its still an addiction, one I have a hard time overcoming. Its seems like a daily battle, and I never win. Its called Night Eating Syndrome (NES), and its not a recognized "disorder," but rather a very unhealthy syndrome. I eat really healthy all day, and then at night, right before bed (and even sometimes leaving the comfort of my bed to eat at 1 or 2 am) I eat. And eat. And then eat some more. Its not like normal binge eating, where you eat large amounts of random food very quickly. This is more of a syndrome where one eats, usually, smaller snacks, but going back multiple times for more and more snacks, until the calorie count far exceeds what a typical snack should contain.
I hate it. I just feel so hungry at night. And then I feel so guilty. I'm never going to fit into a bathing suit at this rate. All the experts say that it most likely has to do with depression, and/or suppressed feelings of anxiety, stress, and depression that leads one to eat and eat, when really it is more of an emotional hunger. Eating this way fluxuates serotonin levels, and often times leads to a headache upon waking, and then breakfast anorexia (rarely eating breakfast, or having to practically force oneself to.)
And then, I also believe I have a chronic sleeping disorder. I'll sleep 14 hours if my alarm doesn't keep waking me. Even then, I can't seem to get myself up. I'm exhausted the rest of the day, with no energy, and oftentimes a horrible headache. I just want to sleep, all the time. I just want to do absolutely nothing, because I'm so tired and feel so bad.
And then there's the complete and utter loss of all drive, enthusiasm for life, and desire for human contact. Lately, I've stayed home almost every single day. I had to literally muster up every single drop of energy in me to force myself to go to church. Not because it was church, just because I have no drive to get dressed, get ready, drive, and especially see people. I'm anxious to be around people more so lately. It means I have to push exceptionally hard to focus on being present, and absorbed in the world around me. So much of this last week I have spent, what seems like, in the basement of my soul. I reside down there, safe and quiet and surrounded by walls to keep me safe. I don't like coming up. It exposes me, and I feel so uncomfortable. I hate it. I sound like a psycho. And maybe I am. But chronic depression and mental illness runs in my family. Maybe only Jesus can save me where I'm at.
I'm complacent, hungry, and tired. I've been hurt, and in those moments, I promised myself I would never love again. I put huge walls up in a mere second, walls that takes months of time, faithfulness and trust to tear down. They are higher and stronger than they have ever been before. I build those walls around my heart in a moment of hurt, and though I've forgiven and trying to move on, those walls aren't easy to take down right away. They have pushed me further into depression, where I hunger to feed my hurts, my anxieties, and my voids. I want to sleep, all the time, because it keeps me out of reality as well. I am complacent, because these walls have turned my heart to stone. I have decided not to care anymore, because it hurts too much.
I don't want to be this person. I want to love, and live life to the fullest. I want to be motivated, and joyful, and energetic. But as much as I want all those things, I don't have it within me to break out of the walls that hold me in. I have decided I don't want those walls. But once they were made, I can't take them down with just a choice. I need Jesus. So deeply. Yet I have not even the strength to drag myself up the stairs of the basement in my heart, just enough to bring myself before His throne. I have not the strength to utter the words "save me." I am a zombie. Lifeless, futile, and emotionless. I've been here before. Last time it lasted over a year.
Though I feel no emotion in this heart of stone, in my head I know what I want; what I need. And I feel nothing, no desperation nor enthusiasm. Yet I know in my head what I should feel. I know what I should beg. And though I have not the strength nor desperation to back up this plea, I throw it out there nonetheless; Jesus, save me!
