Bulimia

Well, I’m not in any kind of glamorous place right now. I’m sitting on the cold floor tiles in my mom’s bathroom, neck bent over the toilet. I’m not proud of what I do, really, I’m not. I just don’t know how to stop. In the last year and a half, I’ve lost about 25 pounds, and everyone’s constantly telling me, “You look great!” “You’ve gotten so slim.” “You have an excellent figure.”
Recently, I’ve felt prettier and better about myself than I’ve ever felt in my life. Some guys from my middle school have messaged me, told me I’m gorgeous. These are guys who would have never given me the time of day back when I was awkward with braces and glasses and chubby cheeks. It’s flattering, of course.
But then, there are moments like this, when I’m slumped over the toilet, teary-eyed and forcing myself to throw up everything I’ve eaten. In moments like this, I don’t feel so pretty. I feel repulsive and ashamed and sinful and alone.

I need you, Jesus.  So much.  You love me, I know, and You hate to see me doing this to myself.  Lord, please help me to get better.

Religious Flame Wars for Christ?

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Gahhhhhhhhhhhh.

How on earth can I keep myself from getting angry and spiteful and fired up when I come across blogs like this?  It’s really, really difficult.  Like, really.  I think Catholic hate from other self-professed Christians upsets me even more than hardcore atheists attacking religion as a whole.  I just can’t help but feel like, just maybe, running a “Christian” hate blog about Catholicism and Islam isn’t all that Christlike.  Correct me if I’m wrong.

I don’t think Jesus cries tears of joy in heaven every time one of His disciples verbally attacks another.  I just can’t really see that happening.  I mean, I know that we Catholics have done our share of casting stones, but even the one true Church—especially the one true Church—has to realize that we are first and foremost the hands and feet of Christ.  People who don’t know Christ can only come to know Him through His Body on earth.

Getting into a religious flame war with the Christian Spook guy might feel satisfying, but in the end, it’s not about what I want.  This is not about me.  This is about the God I serve.  If I’m truly His hands and feet, I have to swallow my pride, the part of me that wants to lash out.  I have to act like Christ, not like Katy.  That’s what I’m trying to do these days.

Vanity

I think I’m onto something.  You know that feeling you get when something you’ve heard countless times finally clicks?  That might be what this is.  Dear Jesus, please let it be that.  The realization is something so simple, something I’ve had to teach myself time and again because I always seem to forget: IT’S NOT ALL ABOUT ME.

I registered on WordPress about an hour ago believing that God was telling me to do it.  I had to pick a username, something that’s just second-nature to me.  I have accounts registered on more sites than I can count, and there are about three possible usernames I might choose.  They all have my name, like “katybliss”, “KaleidoKaty”, etc..  Well, maybe it was just the desire for anonymity (I don’t think that’s the case), but today I felt compelled to pick something less about me and more about Jesus, about my faith.  I decided on “thelightiswhite” (see last post).  I’m really glad.  Also, I have to choose a Gravatar, or whatever you call it.  I could just use the pretty selfie I use on every site, but no, I think that when the Gravatar picker thing actually works for me, I’m going to follow suit and choose a photo of my dear patron saint, Maria Goretti.  Or something like that.  

Yeah, these are little things, just a username and a profile photo, but for me, that’s a big deal.  What I’m thinking about right now, as I type these words, is how much stock I put into myself, how damn much I care what everyone else thinks about me.  That’s the problem with my Facebook, my Tumblr, my Wanelo.  My online profiles are “Katy domain,” places where it’s all about me, what I think, what I like.  I do my best to reblog Catholic stuff when I can, but it’s always outweighed by the bobdylanopinionsclotheshumorartmovieshorrorpsychologymusicfandom content blob that seems to take up most of my self-identity, online and in real life.  Oh, and when I do post stuff about prayer, chastity, saints, Catholicism and the like, it’s more to remind my online audience, “See, guys, I’m a Catholic.”  It’s pride more than anything.

I’m really insecure and overwhelmed, you guys.  I’m dealing with severe anxiety disorder, the recent death of my grandma, the aftermath of my parents’ divorce and the huge strain it’s had on my relationship with both parents, this incredible burden of guilt and inadequacy…and most recently, a secret eating disorder.  I’m not listing these issues to gain sympathy.  I’m listing them because I’ve been neglecting them for so long, and it’s occurring to me just now that instead of going to Jesus for help, I’ve shoved them inward and masked them with narcissism.

Lord, I’m done with being two different people.  I’m done with pushing aside my problems and silencing them with self-destruction.  I’m ready to instead lay them at Your feet.  I know that You told me to create this blog for a reason.  When I feel tempted to make myself throw up, when I want to hurt myself, please, Jesus, give me the strength to post it here instead, to pray about it and trust that You, my Savior, will carry me in my weakness.  Amen.