Where I Belong
In 2019, one month before my 57th birthday, I entered a partial hospitalization program (PHP) for anorexia. I will never forget my first day at the Eating Disorder Treatment Center.
I was greeted warmly and escorted to a room where my blood pressure and weight were measured. For the first time, I was instructed to step on the scale backwards; something I learned is called a “blind weigh-in.” I was not allowed to know my weight, my blood pressure, or my pulse. I was told that the discussion of numbers wasn’t allowed.
I couldn’t know my numbers. They are my numbers. I needed those numbers. Those numbers were my coordinates. They told me who and where I was in the world.
Distracted by what the numbers might have been, I was ushered to a large room with big windows. I sat down in the midst of 20 and 30-year-old girls chatting and commenting on the previous evening’s activities.
Small tears tattled on the mayhem ensuing in my stomach. My head felt like an anvil.
It wasn’t long before we were called to the dining room. The girls continued to chat and play games while they ate their breakfast.
I finished the breakfast that was set before me after calculating a rough estimate of its calories… except for a small glass of milk. I could see it wasn’t the kind of milk I was “allowed” to drink.
I politely asked, “What kind of milk is this?”
I was told, “It’s good for you,” and kindly encouraged to “just drink it.”
I studied it again. They simply didn’t understand; it wasn’t milk I could drink.
Maybe if I explained it to them… How disappointed God would be if I broke the rules.
My heart rocked chaotically in my chest. My mind started spinning with caloric calculations, and my head felt hotter and hotter. I couldn’t move my hand to touch the glass.
The eating disorder was declaring war. “Don’t. You. Do it.”
Gravity retreated and I felt the weight of my fear pushing me down. Certainly, they could see; I was crumbling right before their eyes.
“Please, oh please… Don’t make me drink the milk.”
This is the power the eating disorder had over me every day. At every meal.
Any time I put food in my mouth, it was there.
While in treatment I discovered that I had become an expert at rationing life. I rationed my emotions, my expectations, my spending, and my food. I used tiny bags to store my food and tiny utensils to eat it. The smaller I could make something, the fewest calories I could eat, the greater the achievement. I looked forward to meeting this challenge daily.
As you might imagine, so much rationing left big gaps in my heart and life, so I filled the vacancies with exercise. The regiment of rationing and exercising resulted in me slowly “disappearing,” as a colleague once observed.
The smaller I became the better I’d be able to fit into a space almost anywhere. I just didn’t know where I belonged.
It wasn’t until I stood against the eating disorder that everything changed. I stopped listening to the enemy and started seeing the Lord. There was a particular Sunday when I marched down the aisle of church to sit in the front row. It was after weeks of the enemy convincing me that I was not worthy of sitting in the sanctuary after restoring weight. But the Lord called me to reclaim His space, and I did.
Almost immediately after I started eating, my life, my creativity, and my heart started to stir, like a bear stirring out of a long hibernation. The cave where I had stored the pieces left behind by my rationing, burst into life and started growing and blooming in ways I didn’t think possible.
To be completely transparent, I was hungry.
I was hungry for all of it: love, life, truth, and food. So, I pursued the abundance the Lord intended for me. Even when admitting I was hungry felt like I was betraying my friends in treatment.
It is worth noting something else. I am someone who thrives on reward as opposed to recognition. Being applauded in front of a group of people is not an occasion I crave. What I thrive on is reward. When I started eating, having a better memory, unleashing my creativity, being able to receive and experience the Lord’s Glory… those “rewards” filled me to overflowing.
It also seems like a lot of people with eating disorders feel like they are not enough. In my case, it is the opposite. I feel like I am too much. I’ve often wondered if people who feel like they are “not enough” tend to overeat and people who feel like they are “too much” tend to eat less.
I was discharged from treatment after three months. It was half of the time that the doctors recommended. I believe the Lord allowed my early discharge so I would know, HE is the One responsible for my healing, and not the treatment program. Culture has proven that methods evolve; however, the Lord remains steadfast. What saved me in 2019 will continue to save me until my last breath.
I confess, the eating disorder is an estranged guest that still taps on my door from time to time. When this happens, I imagine I have my heart in my hand, and when I open the door the enemy and Jesus are standing side by side. When I see them in the stark contrast between Good and evil, it is easier to choose the Good Way.
Over five years later, I depend on the Lord, His Truth and help I have found at FINDINGbalance through its resources and support groups.
No matter where the day takes me, I begin it and end it by gathering up the magnificent robe of Christ and draping it over my head.
That is where I belong.
I am no longer lost. I know who and where I am because Jesus is with me.
"So, my brothers and sisters, you also died to the law through the body of Christ, that you might belong to another, to him who was raised from the dead, in order that we might bear fruit for God." Romans 7:4 (NIV)
- Vanessa Vasquez
Grateful Caregiver. Student of Jesus. Proof of Grace and Mercy. Overcomer.
FINDINGbalance is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization providing non-clinical support and encouragement to those battling food issues. The contents of this blog article, including any attachments, are for educational purposes only and are not intended to diagnose, treat, or prescribe a particular course of action. If you or someone you care about is battling an eating disorder, please seek care from a licensed professional. If you are in crisis and need immediate support, please call, text, or chat 988 to speak with someone at the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline, 24/7.
