Twisted

Those with twisted minds are detestable to the Lord, but those with blameless conduct are His delight.  Proverbs 11:20

I want to thank everyone who has pulled me aside recently and explained how much they enjoyed or connected with my short story about Mrs. Delinski.  I had been suffering from writer’s block.  It was nice just to freely write a piece.

My personal account of the scene where Mrs. Delinski covered her tracks by driving to a convenient store to dump her binge evidence, is so alike her’s.  I mean I have dumped my evidence before.  It is covering up the secret so no one will know.  It is a shameful act but I am finding out the more I research or talk to people, secrets play with our minds and we find ourselves twisting the truth in order to save face.

Those with twisted minds are detestable to the Lord…….

Twisted minds.  Ahem…..  Look at it from the perspective of hiding a secret.  Lies are told.  Truths are bent.  And right from wrong is all distorted.  We will go to great lengths to convince ourselves or others that nothing is wrong or that we would not do such a thing.  I’m gonna be honest here…..  I have purchased candy and then “had to get gas” so that I could trash the wrapper…… or wrappers.  How about when a cheating spouse doesn’t come home on time?  We’ve seen it in so many movies.  Had to work late……  Got called away on business…… a bold faced lie or two.  I’ve even been in a relationship with someone who distorted a Bible verse just to get a certain behavior or reaction from me.

Twisted…..  Twisted truths…… Twisted actions…… are detestable to the Lord.

So hey, there is hope.  See God likes the honesty and integrity of a blameless person.  And once you practice the truth…. the real truth…… it is amazing how freeing it is.  I mean when I used to cover my tracks like Mrs. Delinski, I was only fooling myself.  I mean come on….. like no one noticed me packing on the pounds. Twisted minds are always found out.  It becomes a never ending cycle of lies just to keep a secret.  And if you are anything like me….. I forget what I told or how it was explained.  Shining a light on the whole secret.

If we practice honesty and integrity, there is nothing to worry about.  In fact, when my accountability partner confesses, I call it “punching Satan in the face.”  If you are caught doing something, just tell the truth.  The Lord would rather you tell the truth and pay the consequences than twist the truth for personal benefit.

Secrets kill relationships.  It is plain and simple.  If we are honest, we can repair them.  If we live the integrity, then relationships are strong and healthy.  And when we do, we delight the Lord.  And when we delight God, blessings are given……

 

Second Chance

“Growing up, I heard my grandfather’s story.  Plagued by alcoholism, he continued to lose the battle until one fateful day.  He was drunk and behind the wheel.  He lost control of the car and ended up in a ditch.  Phased by the jolt, he watched the passenger door open and Jesus climbed into the cab.

‘Jesus was there.  Dressed in white.  He said, ‘You are going to die.’ I thought he meant right then but he simply said, ‘Don’t drink anymore.’  And with that, he got out of the cab and closed the door.’

My grandfather’s face spoke the truth.  His eyes were always bright when he told the story.  Every time, he ended by pointing upward and saying, ‘When Jesus tells you to do something, you do it.  I haven’t had a drink since that day.’

It has been a year and six months since I drove off the road trying to end my life.  I remember the air bag making it hard to breath and the sizzle sound of steam from the radiator.  The heaviness of my life caved inward.  The passenger door opened wide.  In climbed a man dressed in white.  His face expressed concern.  He closed the door and looked at me.

Words of great love poured out.  He gazed at me with his angelic face.  ‘You are going to die…..’  The weight of those words mixed with all the heartbreak and sorrow from the day. ‘Stop the gorging.  You don’t need food.  You need me.’

I closed my eyes.  The pain shot through my body.  Tears swelled and I whispered, ‘Yes, Jesus.’ Then everything went dark when I heard the door slam shut.

I woke up in the stark hospital room a week later.  I knew what I had to do.  As soon as I was strong enough to go home.  I asked my doctor to help me.  I didn’t know where to begin but I knew I was going to die if I didn’t stop binge eating.

My doctor gave me the number of Overeaters Anonymous.  I held onto the number like my life depended on it.  I came.  I sat. And I learned.  I fought the urges and the binge’s sweet sounding voice.  I struggled with the whole changing my eating habits.  Carrots never satisfied me like a burger; but, I pushed through.  I found satisfaction in Christ.  I handed Him my life, my addictions and all that crap that I told myself.

Through OA, I found ways to cope.  I built a support group that understood me and my addiction.  They held me up.  They pulled me up when I fell away from eating right.  They spoke stern loving words when I called frantic that I might binge.  They had a way of talking me down and away from the kitchen.  They encouraged me when I enrolled in my first aerobics class.  OA taught me that with Christ anything is possible.  They applauded when every pound fell off the scale.  And most of all they showed me how to love by loving me.

The judge granted Derrick primary custody.  I lost my house.  But, on the day I drove off the road, I gained my life back.  They always say that from rock bottom you can only go up.

I am living proof.  I am Priscilla Delinski.  I am a binge eater.  And today I celebrate, 150 pounds lost.”

Cheers fills the room when I step away from the podium.  I am the new me.   Grandfather was right.  When Jesus tells you to do something, you do it.

the end

 

 

 

Ugly Thoughts Kill

Poor Mrs. Delinski……. enjoy today’s segment of the short story……

It’s been well over a year since the doctor’s visit.  The label that pushed me to eat more still haunts me.  The phasing into 3 more larger sizes was easier and justifiable.  I eat more, shop more and sleep less.  Job hunting implies I’m over-qualified, too old, or morbidly obese.  The savings account ran dry a month ago.  Credit card bills stack higher unpaid and unopened.  The house payment is four months behind.  I’m trying to keep my head up and on straight.  The only silver lining comes from Derrick taking the kids for the summer.  But that also means the only income I have is the child support and since he has the kids, I have nothing.

Today, I came home from a shopping spree, another $150 worth of food and clothes, to find the foreclosure notice on the door.  I have 30 days to pay up or get out.  In 30 days, I am homeless. Reality just pimp slaps me hard as I make my way into the house.  I drop the bags and to my knees.  Tears swell and spill. My heart shatters.  My life crumbles.  And all I want to do is eat.

The familiar and safe binge rushes to my side.  Kneeling, crying, and feeling desperate, I answer the binge and eat.  I tear open the food right there in the doorway.  Sobbing through the chips, cookies and soda.  Eat this, you’ll feel better. The darkness of the binge speaks to me and I answer.  Where’s the chocolate chip cookies?   A sinking feeling stabs me in the pit of my stomach.  I push through the empty bags of chips, cracker boxes, candy wrappers and find nothing more.  Tearing open the next grocery bag, I find the cookies.  My hands shake as I pull open the package.   I shove them in by the handfuls.  Once the last one passes through my lips, I fall backward and lay down.  I curl my knees upward trying to find comfort.  I pull the trash into my arms and hug with dark despair.

McDonalds…….  I want a burger and fries.  I climb up off the floor grab my purse and keys.  I purposefully don’t look back.  I don’t want to know.  I don’t want to see the mess.  I just want a burger.  Go get a Big Mac, you’ll feel better.  We will figure something out.  Go Eat.  Like a slave, I bow to the command.  I get in the car and pull out the drive.  I realize I left my cell phone in the car when I rushed to the life changing paper tacked to the door.  I grab it from the cup holder and see I have a voice mail.  It’s from Derrick and it can wait.  I’m on a mission to get a fix so I can think clearly.

I pull up to the drive thru and order my usual:  two Big Mac Combos, Super sized, both with cokes and two cheese burger Happy Meals, both with apple slices and chocolate milk.  As I ease up in line, I rehearse my usual lines.  Prepping for a good performance, I want the pimply faced teen to think I am the best mother and wife.  I pull up the professional looking messenger bag from the front floor board.  I place my purse next to it.  I make sure the toys are visible.  I keep the props in the car at all times.  I am a hard working mom…… tired from a long day at the office……  I have two kids and a husband waiting for dinner at home……  I rehearse.  My sad attempt to convince myself that I have a normal life.

I creep up to the window.  The young thing doesn’t suspect a thing.  We exchange a smile.  He hands me my bags and I hand him my credit card.  With a swipe and a “have a nice day” I bow in my mind.  I once again pulled off the whole charade.  My phone vibrates in the cup holder.  I look at the tiny screen as I find an empty parking slot in the McDonald’s lot.  That’s strange…. why would my lawyer be calling????

“Hello.”

“Mrs. Delinski?  Hi.  Steve here.”

“Hey Steve.  Did I miss an appointment or something?”

“No…..”  he pauses and clears his throat.

“Mrs. Delinski, there has been a new development.”

“O….. Kay?”  my stomach jumps.

“We need to talk. Can you come by the office?”

“Look Steve, I have had a pretty rough day.  I just want to go home and collapse.”

“I understand…..”

“Just tell me and add this call to my bill.”  I don’t want him to see me.  I’ll have Big Mac breath.

“Ahem….  Mr.  Delinski is filing for full custody.  He claims you are unfit, unhealthy, and incapable of caring for the kids…..”

My heart stops beating.  My eyes shift back and forth in bewilderment.  Unfit?  Unhealthy?  Incapable?

I hung up.

I’ll claim “dead zone.”  My hand reaches into the bag.  The steamy burger feels comforting.  The days events unwrap the burger.  Unfit?  I bite.  Unhealthy? Incapable?  I am a hard working mother….. My character’s lines form in my head.  I lost my husband…… my income…… my house……now my kids…….. I don’t know how to rehearse for this……

I drive away eating away the bad news.  My phone vibrates again.  I ignore it.  What am I going to do?  When the last fry is consumed, my focus falls onto the problems at hand.  I have no food to take my mind off of it.  I decide not to go home.  I need to take a drive and clear my mind.

I am an unfit wife.  I am an unfit mother.  Morbidly obese.  Unhealthy.  I am a fat ugly unhealthy mess.  I bought a size 30 today.  My stomach turns.  Incapable of finding a job, keeping a husband satisfied, and now….. incapable of being a mother….. I hate him.  I hate him!  I HATE HIM!!!!!  My heart breaks.  I want to hate him but what he says is true.  Tears stream down my face. I can’t do anything right.  I can’t find a job.  I’m too ugly.  Who wants to hire someone looking like me?  Without a job, I can’t have a home.  No home.  No husband.  No kids.  I am a failure. He is right.  The kids are better off without me.  The sorted truth sours my stomach.  I have nothing.  I am nothing.  I hate myself.  My hands tighten around the steering wheel.  The more my thoughts race the faster my car races down the road.

I need to just die.  I can’t fight this anyway.  I have no money.  I can’t pay for court.  I can’t pay for food. No clothes for the kids.  Nothing.  I just need to die.  The world hates me so I just need to get out of it.  I have no fight nor the will to live anymore.  I should just die.

I speed up and drive off the road, on purpose.

Swallow with Rebellion

Hope you get a better understanding of binge eating and the unconscious behavior that goes along with it as you read today’s fictional segment of the short story…….

 

I step into the kitchen.  My heart screams, “Don’t!”  My actions do just the opposite.  I gather up the strength to pause at the refrigerator door.  There’s yogurt…. left over pancakes….. I move the milk and juice cartons like the red sea.  No nothing there I want……. I lean down to the next shelf.  Let’s see there’s cheese…… lunchmeat…….. pepperoni…… Then I gander down to the next shelf.  Ahhhh there we go Duncan Hines Vanilla Frosting……

I pull the prize out.  Open the lid to check for mold.  Yep…. I’m gonna have some frosting…..  I walk over to the flatware drawer and get a spoon.  Oh, you know what would be good…… peanut butter……..  I go to the pantry and grab the jar.  I mix the peanut butter into the frosting can.  Wait, I think there is some Hershey’s Chocolate Syrup….. I return to the fridge for the syrup.  I pour the chocolate covering the sweet concoction.  I stir and take a bite.

Happy with the taste, I go back into the living room and sit down.  There’s a skinny young gal discussing the benefits of a vegan lifestyle.  I change the channel and find a soap opera.  I eat the first two bites.  I savor over the chocolaty, peanutty, frosting by letting it melt on my tongue.

Like flipping the light switch, my mind shuts off.  I mechanically spoon the frosting into my mouth.  Without coming up for air, my mind numbing shoveling ends and I never take my eyes off the TV.  I am unaware of what is being said.  I just watch the motions of the bad acting.  I lick the spoon, drop it into the empty can, and head back to the kitchen.

I instinctively reach into the fridge.  I grab a yogurt and return to the couch.  With robotic precision, I scoop the yogurt in my mouth until it is gone.  With my spoon in one hand, I drop the empty container in the trash.  Once again, I am at the door of the fridge.  I pull out lunchmeat and cheese.  Taking handfuls, I walk back into the living room and cram them in my mouth.

No taste.  No satisfaction.

I lick the salty juices from my fingers and go back into the kitchen.  One by one, I devour pepperoni, the pancakes, and a jar of pickles without emotion….without a single feeling.  I immediately go to the pantry.  I pull out the peanut butter jar.  I grab a spoon and return to the couch.  I bet there is chocolate chips…….  I jump up and pilfer through the cabinet.  Yes!  Score!  I pour the chips into the peanut butter jar and spoon with my robotic arm.

I feel the Holy Spirit nudge.  I swallow hard and with rebellion.  My unconsciousness is not ready to end.  I consume.  Once the peanut butter and chips are gone, I go back to the pantry.  I find a bag of pretzels.  I snack.  There’s a package of cookies.  I pig out.  I move only from the couch to the kitchen.  I never think.  My mind is turned off.  No emotions do I feel.  I just eat like some cold robot.

After 45 minutes of continuous gorging, my consciousness returns.  Thirst is the first real feeling I’ve experienced since I got home.  I look around at the empty bags, wrappers, and jars littering the coffee table and kitchen counter.  Disappointment sweeps over me.  The weight of the binge feels like a ton.  Oh, God….. What have I done?  

I check the clock.  I have just a few minutes to clean up the mess, dump it in the garbage can, and head off to the school.  As I pick up the potato chip bag, I realize I just stuffed myself with the kids’ lunches for the next week.  The lunchmeat and cheese come to mind. No sandwich fixings…… Then the peanut butter pops in my head.  I can’t make them peanut butter sandwiches now…..   One by one the various foods that were supposed to be for the family meals take their turn in showing me what I just did.  Guilt crawls up from the pit of my stomach and strangles me.  That’s a new low….. taking my kids’ lunches away from them.

I tie up the garbage bag, grab my purse, and dash out the door.  I throw the evidence in the can.  I jump in the car and put it in reverse.  I think I will take the kids to Kum N Go for a milkshake today.  I’m really thirsty……

I drive away like nothing happened.

 

It begins

Mrs. Delinski has a dirty secret…..

 

Morbidly Obese

Those words hurt.  I can’t believe the doctor thinks I’m Morbidly Obese.  That describes The Biggest Loser contestants, not me…..  I may get a little winded walking up a flight of stairs but I am active….. Morbidly Obese??  The truth is in those two words.

I get home.  I have a couple of hours before picking up the kids.  The label swims in my mind.  I make the quick decision not to mention this to anyone.  No one needs to know, plain and simple.

I throw my purse and keys on the table, flip through the mail, and just sigh.  The heavy sigh holds the weight of today’s appointment.  Maybe, I am obese….. Just thinking that brings tears to my eyes.

No wonder Derrick left me……. How can anyone love the morbidly obese?  The kids…… Do they see me as some ugly slob?  No….. they love me…… 

I shake my head hoping to shake the thoughts away like the scribbles on an Etch A Sketch.  I want to eat.  I try to push the urge to eat down deep.

I go into the living room and turn on the TV.  There….. I will see what is happening on the Create Channel.  I sit down on the couch and concentrate on the screen.

I think I’m hungry.  Yep, my stomach just growled….. Man, I’m hungry…….

The convincing of hunger begins.  I am not at all hungry.  I am about to indulge in a daily practice that is a dirty secret.  It is starting and I don’t have the power within me to stop it.

Hmmmm what do I want to eat?  The contents of the refrigerator and pantry list in my mind.  What do I want??  No, I don’t want this…… I don’t want to do this…….  The struggle of right and wrong grows stronger and more evident.  The label “Morbidly Obese” flashes in my mind.  I can’t do this………

I know the right thing to do is to pray.  Pray the urge away.  I get down on my knees and plea with God to take feeling away. The answer comes quickly.  I need to get out of the house before it is too late.  Before I begin to consume my new label.

I get up but the weight of the day pulls me back down on the couch.  I feel a little stronger and the flight feeling slips away.  I can wait it out…… they say in 10 minutes urges fade away…..

Five minutes pass, 10 minutes creep by, and now I can enjoy the show.  My stomach is growling…… I’m hungry….. I better eat a little something before I leave for school….  I don’t want to be hungry when the kids ask for a snack……I will be stronger if I am not hungry……

And with that, I get up and head for the kitchen.

***

My dear family and friends,

Please understand this character is fictional.  I know it reads as if I am telling the story.  In some ways, the character struggles with overeating just as I have.  Today’s passage is based on the battle a binge eater faces each day.

Since November, my binging war has been slowly conquered one battle at a time.  Yes, I still have days when I am plagued with the thoughts that trigger the binge.  And sometimes, it overcomes and I find myself powerless.   I don’t want to live under the ugliness of this addiction.

And, I ask that you keep in mind that this portrayal is fictional.  Mark and I are still together.  My blood pressure is fine.  No need to worry.

However, I will never be free of my addiction.  I am just like an alcoholic or a former drug addict.  It takes one day at a time and the grace of God to carry on without the binge.

After tomorrow, I hope you will understand binge eating as Mrs. Delinski consumes her new label.

God Bless…..

Regina