For some of us, out greatest challenges begin early in life as we struggle with how to live in the world. Teenage suicide is at a record high with the increase in bullying, cyber bullying, and the expectations to fit into a societal “norm.” Anorexia Nervosa, a disease that effects a lot of young women is a type of slow suicide where one wastes away to skin and bones. If not treated it will result in death by starvation or complications of the disease. As a teenager I suffered from Anorexia which resulted in a near death experience, where I was given a choice. I would like to talk about my slow suicide and why I chose to live.
I didn’t realize I was dying. My lack of will to live was largely unconscious. I was suffering. I was in deep pain. I had experienced a lot of bullying, rejection and abuse as a child that slowly eroded my desire to be here. The world seemed like a pretty cold, cruel place. By the time I was a teenager, I was plagued by a belief that I was unlovable as I was and that I had to achieve some sort of perfection in order to be loved and accepted. Since our society put so much emphasis on how we, as women, and girls looked, I concluded that I needed to be slim and beautiful in order to be accepted. I had struggled with my weight as a pre-teen because I ate to deal with my complex painful emotions. I didn’t know what else to do. We didn’t talk about feelings in my family and this was pretty common in many families of my generation.
Being a sensitive child and a target for bullying in my school, combined with the lack of emotional support at home, I concluded that I was not good enough. I wasn’t lovable! As a teenager I made the decision to quit eating. Somehow I thought this would solve my problems. I discovered a powerful discipline within me that took root and made food the enemy; the thing to be avoided at all costs. Whenever I did eat, I felt horribly guilty. It showed lack of control and discipline. I became addicted to the numbers on the scale going down. Each time the numbers went lower, it gave me a high; a sense of excitement and accomplishment. Because I had body dysmorphia (distorted body image,) I could not see the slowly emerging skeleton. In my mind, the lower the number, the better.
It was when the number on the scale reached eighty nine pounds, I began to show signs of starvation and wasting. I remember holding a mirror up to see myself from the back and got a glimpse of my actual body. My bones were protruding through my back and hip and there were bloody, crusty places from friction while doing sit ups. It was horrifying. I had a moment of terror, and then I slipped right back into denial, celebrating the numbers on the scale reaching the eighties.
I began to black out during exercise and while working on the family farm. My anorexia had progressed to a point where I had no appetite at all. I thought this was great! It was much easier to be disciplined when I wasn’t hungry. As a result of my worsening condition, I began to have what I came to believe was Angelic visitations. My Angel came when I was unconscious or drifting somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness. She talked to me about my purpose for being here and it was much bigger than I realized. I was destined to be a healer! I was gifted! There was a purpose for my pain.
At one point I had become so weak I couldn’t lift my head from the pillow. I wanted to ask for help, but I couldn’t. Asking for help seemed somehow forbidden. I had to do it all myself! That is what I believed. I had to suffer in silence. I had to deal with the bullying, the hatred, and the rejection all by myself. How could I ask for help?
Perhaps the Angel realized that I would not make it through if I didn’t have divine intervention. As I rose above my body, on that fateful day, I hovered in a place of peace and warmth. I was no longer afraid. My Angel told me that I had a choice. I could live or I could die. At that moment I knew I wanted to live. I wanted to fulfill my destiny! I wanted to do what I came here to do.
When I made the choice to live I found myself back in my body and I experienced a miracle. It was as if the Angel came right into my body and gave me the strength to get up off the sofa and go into the kitchen to make a smoothie of raw milk, egg, wheat germ, orange juice, and honey. I heard her voice telling me to sip this mixture and keep it coming. It was this smoothie that brought me back to a place where I could begin eating again. My anorexia was cured, not by hospitals, psychologists and hovering parents trying to shove food in my face. I was saved by the Angel.
I would like to tell you that it got better after that. That life magically became wonderful and I was happy. But my decision to live was only the beginning of a very long and painful journey. I hadn’t realized that I was being asked, on some level, to experience all forms of darkness in order to develop the kind of insight and compassion necessary to help others through their darkness. I wasn’t just given the gift of healing. I had to take the shamanic journey into the deepest darkness in order to understand it. I couldn’t pull people back from the brink of death, if I had not stood at that place myself. I could not help people through narcissistic abuse, had I not experienced the pain of it myself. I could not help people to develop self-love had I not learned how to love myself.
Forty years later I am living my purpose. I am helping others through counseling and hypnotherapy as well as sharing my musical creations that seem to have the ability to crack open emotional blocks. I know the Angel is still with me, but because I am no longer close to death, I don’t hear her the same way I did when I was sick. I am simply aware of her presence. I’m aware that none of us walk alone. Even if it feels we do. We all have guidance. We all have a mission and purpose for being here. Yes, I was told I was gifted. But we are all gifted in some way. We simply need to “tune in” to our gifts and allow divine inspiration to guide us.
I could have chosen death. It wouldn’t have been a death at all, only a departure from this world. In my darkest times, I longed for that departure, but I was reminded of my purpose for being here and that is what pulled me through. We don’t stop to think about how our lives really do matter. We influence people without ever realizing it. We make a difference in the lives of others, even the narcissists and abusers. We make a difference when we smile at a stranger on the street, and look a baby in the eyes. We are all connected!
Had I not chosen life, my son would not be here and my three grandchildren would not be here. For everyone who has ever written me and told me how my work has saved their life, I am grateful. I am grateful that my journey through darkness had a purpose. We can’t always know how we influence others. We simply need to trust that we do. We all matter! Our lives are divinely guided. We all have the ability to find our way through the dark passages of life into the light of self awareness. Lets live in that light and help others through. What greater purpose could we have?
