I think it is safe to say I am out of the pit. Or I'm at least in the process of pulling myself out of the pit. Now I'm kind of... I don't know... wary I guess is the word. Wary of moving forward. I'm exhausted from all I've been through. Absolutely exhausted. My excitement for the day I leave for Colorado is clouded by the utter shell shock of the past year.
In my weary state, all I want to do is rest. I want to rest in things like movies and tv shows and internet. These things give my brain a chance to check out and numb the pain. But I know that is not the answer. It's time to rest in the Lord. He says to come to Him, all who are weary and heavy laden, and He will give us rest. So I guess the first step in this process would be to go to the Lord.
With camp coming up, I'm not feeling that usual sense of excitement. I'm scared. I'm scared I'm going to screw everything up. I'm scared I will not make camp as impactful as it should be. Every year has been so successful that I feel all this pressure to exceed that expectation. What I'm forgetting is that all that success did not come from the work I did. It came from the Lord. Instead of relying on my strengths to make camp awesome, I need to rely on God. If I try to make camp better than last year, than I've already missed the point of camp.
Now so far my summer has not nearly been as cool as last year. I've just been going to work and church and home. For the fourth of July, I saw my dad which has become too rare of an occasion in my life. I stayed with him and had a wonderful time. I went to the Blues Fest in Davenport with my friend Gretchen and experienced some REAL music. I only regret using the time I set aside to see my dad to do something else with someone else. I feel really bad about that. What little time we spend together is already so precious, and I just took away from that.
There hasn't been a drive home from my father's in which I haven't cried. Every single stinking time I leave I hate it. I hate not knowing when I'll see my dad again. I just want to go eat something to make me feel better. Oh that's another little parasite that has been gnawing at my brain. I've gained weight since last summer. I've gained about 10 lbs and I can see it. Every time I see a picture of me from last summer, I feel so embarrassed at how I look now.
Here's a life lesson to all you insecure women out there: If you have insecurities about yourself at 220 lbs, you will still have the same insecurities at 140 lbs. Just because the weight goes away, doesn't mean the problem does. In addition to the heartache I experience when I look at a thinner version of myself, every time I hate on myself for gaining weight, I beat myself up for not accepting myself for who I am at whatever weight I happen to be. How messed up is that?? It just makes me sad at my broken state.
Oh and boys, here's a little lesson for you as well: DON'T EVER CALL A WOMAN FAT. EVER. (Okay so obviously there is some deep seeded pain from personal experience coming out here. A boy called me fat in front of my whole youth group, my youth pastor, my small group leader, and all my friends, and no one stood up for me. That happened in middle school, and I'm still not over it yet. That's how much it hurt.) Don't call a woman fat. Even if she's the skinniest person in the world, and she may know it. She still has insecurities and you will only be feeding them. She will hate herself and carry those issues around for the rest of her life. Nothing breaks down a woman more than being made fun of. Period. Now I cannot blame my bully completely for my problems. I'm not a complete victim here. There's an old saying: Inside every person is two dogs fighting each other. One is good, and one is evil. The dog that wins is the dog you feed more. It's ultimately your choice ladies, but men... Come on. Don't be douchebags. I obviously have some forgiveness issues here. Phew, shake it off Erin.
In order to feed the good dog, I'm going to need some divine intervention. I can't just be better at talking myself up. I can't just try harder at loving myself. That's not how the soul works. It's trusting that there is nothing I can do on my own to better myself and trusting God to help me.
On a lighter, more miracle based note, God is providing for me. I've been praying for the means to buy myself a new laptop, and God just gave me a laptop. My cousin gifted it to me, even though he was going to sell it and use the money to buy a much needed car for him and his family. I am so blessed, my cousin David is truly a blessing, and God is so awesome. I'll just end this on that note and try to get my buns to bed now. Goodnight everyone. God bless.
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