One Year

Hi Guys! 

Today is a pretty special anniversary for me.

Actually, it is one of the most exciting anniversaries of my life. 

One year ago today I received my endowments and went through the temple for the first time. 

December 30, 2015

The past week I have been reflecting a lot on what the past year has held. 

14 months ago I started my mission papers. 

13 months ago I said goodbye to SVU.

12 months ago I entered the temple.

11 months ago I submitted my mission papers. 

10 months ago I was waiting for a call. 

9 months ago I found out I would have to lose weight before I could go. 

7 months ago I quit sugar. 

6 months ago I started attending ARP.

4 months ago I relapsed and started eating sugar again. 

2 months ago I turned 21. 

1 month ago I published my latest blog post. 

A lot has happened this year. 

As I sat in the temple today I thought about who I was 1 year ago. 

Because I came home from SVU broken. 

But at the time I had no idea how rock-bottom wrecked I was. 

I was still pretending everything was fine. 

Honestly, it was months before I even told my parents I had failed that semester. 

I came home and I was all gung-ho mission. 

Mission. Mission. Mission. 

Because I thought my mission would fix me. 

Going on a mission won't fix you. 

Going on a mission will bring to light all the crazy you fought so hard to hide. 

Going on a mission will bring out the crazy.

I've mentioned my Kadee in this blog before right?

Literally. 

She is my kindred spirit. 

I left Virginia but she stayed for another semester before leaving on her mission.
And we would facetime multiple times a week.

Sometimes multiple times a day. 

Yes I did visit her on her mission. It was wonderful.

Anyways, I called her one day in April in complete tears. 

Like, this was maximum dramatics. 

And she told me to go on a walk and so we went on a walk together her and I. 

We got to the temple and I sat down on the lawn and I sobbed as I told her that I wasn't okay. 

I need you all to just picture this for a minute.
It was cold.
Not snow cold but like the snot dripping off my chin was probably turning into icicles. 

And I laid on the grass on the side of the temple.

Curled in the fetal position.
Protected by some trees so no one would see me and ask if I was okay. 

And I sobbed. 

But not only sobbed.
I sobbed into my phone so Kadee could hear my sobs.

All the tears. 

I had a headache for a day after I cried so much. 

It was pitiful. 

And she just listened to me.

As I told her that my life was a lie. 

That I couldn't fake it anymore. 

That I was so unhappy. 

That I didn't think there was hope.

And she listened. 

But most important, she promised there was hope. 

One more picture of her just cause I miss her every day.

In June I finally realized,

(and by finally it should be spelt how I intend it to sound which is fiiiiiiiinnaaaaaaaaaaaallllllyyyyyy)

I finally realized that I couldn't change without my Heavenly Father's help.

Like physically impossible.
Because I had spent years of my life trying to fix myself and being unable to.

But in June I asked for a blessing.
And in that blessing I was promised heaven's help in accomplishing what was previously impossible.

 I got a support group.

I quit sugar. 

And I started attending the Addiction Recovery Program. 

I screwed up a few times along the way. 

I don't attend ARP every week. 

I've ate a lot of sugar during Christmas break. 

And I haven't been progressing for a few weeks. 

But in December I look back on the past year. 

And I just need to thank God. 

Especially for the friendships made/strengthened this year.

Because right here, at this moment at the end of December, I have hope. 

I am no longer in denial. 

I am working to overcome my 10 year long eating disorder.

I am closer to going on a mission than I have been all year, or really, my entire life. 

And I know that in spite of all the trials, all the struggles and thanks to all the lessons learned, 

I am becoming the person my Heavenly Father wants me to be. 

Since I published my last blog post I have felt such peace. 

As I've recognized it and thought about why I realized something.
That was it.
There is no more secrets.

No more shame, no more guilt, no more hiding behind my "perfect" mask. 

Confession time is over. 

After years of pretending and faking it and working my hardest to make sure no one saw my struggles and my shame, in the past year I have shared it all with you. 

And now that it is out there I can move on. 

I can leave the past in the past. 

And I can focus on what is truly important:

Becoming Sister Atwood at last. 

Taking a Break

I am going to take a quick break from the Christlike Attributes challenge of December to update you on a few things going on in my life. 

First things first.
God is always teaching me lessons.

Always. 

And second.
I have not been feeling the desire to write. 

That is hard for me because things make sense when I write them down. 

And I have become used to writing by the spirit with this blog.
But that isn't there right now. 

I'm fixing the things in my life that need to be fixed.

And with this post I am walking in faith hoping that at some point the spirit guides me into saying what needs to be said. 

Sitting on the desk in front of me is a sticky note of all the topics I've been meaning to cover over the past few weeks.
The realizations I've had.
The tender mercies I've seen.
The progress I've made.

But none of those are what I am writing about today. 

I hope that I will be able to share those experiences with you at a later time.

Today however, I want to tell you about the worst time in my life. 

My last semester at school sucked. 

It was the worst time in my whole life. 

And what made it so terrible was how good things were. 

I was an RA which I loved. 

I adored the people I worked with, I had the best bosses ever, I loved my girls. 

It was Year 2 of being Director of Soccer Operations. 

And I walked in so confident. Coaching staff I adore. The team I love. And the sport just makes me so happy. I'm not a sportsy person but soccer just makes sense to me. 

I had chosen classes I knew I would love. 

Easy course load, only 12 credits, and all amazing professors. 

My best friends were all there with me.

And we had such good adventures that semester, plus I made so many new friends. 

I loved my ward.

Bishop Rodriguez was wonderful. I loved my Relief Society and even went to FHE. 

Which is rare for me.

But what it all boiled down to was that it was a recipe for success.

Looking back I can't see anything wrong with all of those pieces. 

Everything was perfect.

And oh, I see how this is all looping in and where it is going, trust me it is gonna be good. 

Guys, I am a perfectionist. 

And not in a cutesy good way where I have to double-check something before I turn it in. 

More in a, I can't start doing this project cause I have to have my house clean and everything done before I can start it so I can devote 110% to it and I have to have all the research done and everything and have to schedule out my time and follow it exactly so I can do this to the best of my abilities but oh wait I can't get all that done first cause I'm going to run out of time but I have to get it done first but I don't have time oh crap this project is due today and I haven't started and I am going to fail and my life is ruined and there is no way I can do a good job on it at this point so I'm just going to pretend I forgot about it and move on. 

I'm sure that was painful to read, but my thought processes don't have commas. 

My perfectionism isn't healthy. 

I have anxiety disorder and that is where this perfectionism comes from.

Let me break down how my brain works:

Failure isn't an option

If I fail no one will like me

Nobody likes me already because of x,y,z

But if I fail then they will hate me and I will be alone forever

Sad, lonely, life

I will be a cat lady and I'm allergic to cats

I'm going to live in my parent's basement my whole life

I am insane, the way I think is insane

I can never live a normal life if I am insane

So I can't fail

It would be better to die than fail

Before I continue with all the thoughts I gotta say let us pay attention to that last line. 

It would be better to die than fail. 

HOW MESSED UP IS THAT. 

Logically, I know that is totally insane. 

You learn from failing.
One can't be perfect all the time. 

Well, my brain struggles with that concept. 

It wants me to die when I am not living up to my "potential".

Whether it is letting depression take over and wanting to cut. 

Or wanting to just drive off a bridge or a cliff or etc...

Or my personal favourite, eat myself into a coma of sadness, shame and despair. 

And by personal favourite I mean that I hate that bingeing is my go-to.

As far back as I can remember I have always been this way. 

Things had to be done "just right" or else. 

I remember feeling crazy as like a six year old, and feeling like my life was out of my control. 

That is a repeating thought I have. 

My life is out of my control. 

Family, school, satan, God, church, friends.
I felt like everyone and everything had more control over my life than I did. 

But if I played my part perfect, maybe I would be given that control I craved. 

So I played perfect. 

I tried to get the best grades.
To do all the chores.

To be the best friend. 

I juggled all the things as best I could all day long. 

When I was done I would grab a book and raid the pantry. 

And stay up most of the night "recovering" from my day, only to do it again tomorrow. 

It was unsustainable. 

I hated my life. 

But I needed people to like me so I had to keep it up.

And no one who saw the perfect me saw the imperfect me. 

I kept those two as separate as I could. 

Senior year of High School that fell apart as I had like a hundred surgeries, and almost daily panic attacks from that whole situation.
But in the summer I pulled it together before I went to school in Virginia.
In all honesty, I should have let myself fall apart then. 

Cause when I got to Virginia I lived in a room with two other girls.
Girls I had classes with and shared soccer with.

Girls who saw the best of me, but also the worst.

No matter how hard I tried to hide it.

I would skip out of activities with my friends so I could binge. 

I skipped church so I could binge.

I skipped class so I could binge. 

It was impossible to be "perfect" all the time so I took every opportunity to "heal" so I could resume my fight for perfection. 

Reading over this I sound insane.
Like lock me up in rehab insane. 

But you have to understand that this all felt logical in my head.

I had thought like this for so long I couldn't see anything wrong with it. 

This all continued throughout my freshman year. 

I gained weight but I was keeping the crazy mostly under control. 

I came home for the summer and struggled.

I was beginning to realize my life was unfulfilling and unsustainable.

But I wasn't ready to change yet. 

I knew, however, that I couldn't hide in Virginia.
Who I wanted to be couldn't binge like I did and still do all I wanted to do. 

And I was unprepared to deal with that. 

But I went back to school. 

And my life fell apart. 

Cliff note version is that I:
Skipped school often.

Skipped church often.

Avoided hanging with my friends.

Stopped enjoying soccer and skipped when I could.

Binged for three months straight in what can only be described as a hellhole.

I could no longer be perfect.

And I completely gave up. 

I gained an atrocious amount of weight. 

And hit rock bottom. 

And do you know who was there?

God.

Let's just pause here.
Just pause and take a breather.
Cause this has been such an intense post.
Literally, you have seen into my brain and my heart and my soul.
I have just shown you my greatest struggles and inadequacies.
So just pause.


This is what my cat would look like in my cat lady life.

Please tell me you've taken a good breather just to process things.
Now let's go back to the point where I found God.
I've always known of God.
As a child I asked God for a miracle so I would know He was there.
As a depressed overweight sad teenager I cried out to God to just kill me cause I was so miserable.
As I grew older I prayed to Him with a full heart because there was so much need I saw around me.
In my best moments I thanked Him profusely for all He had given me.
But it wasn't until I was 20 years old suffering in my own private hell that I met Him.
When I talked to Him and I listened for His answers.
And found He had always been talking to me.
I just had so rarely listened.

Now I want you to listen to this song.
Just sit and listen, then keep reading.

Matthew West speaks to my soul. 

God was there for me. 

At my worst the Atonement was available.

And my Saviour's hand was outstretched towards me. 

I just had to grab on. 

It has been over a year since I started my papers. 

And in this year I have been so blessed.

I have felt God's love. 

And I have been healed. 

Not completely. I still struggle daily. But I am not alone.
After years of feeling so alone, I now know He is always there.
And always has been.
I don't strive for control over everything, I am trying to just let God have the reins.
And I am learning to embrace imperfection. 

This past year has been the greatest gift God has given me. 

Time to heal.

Time to change. 

Time to become His. 

I pray you all take the opportunities given you to change if you need to. 

And to reach out to your Saviour's waiting hands.
He is there. 

Love, Em