I'm Taking A Break

Last night was spent silently crying my eyes out. Lately, I get overwhelming feelings of sadness. It has become quite regular. I've spent the past couple of weeks staying in and isolating myself from everyone. One minute I'm okay and the next I'm dreading everything to the point that it gets difficult to breathe. It's like something thick and heavy spilled all over my chest, and I can physically feel its weight inside. It's been weeks. I've been trying to ignore it or shake it off.

I share a studio with my twin sister and I didn't want her to hear me. I didn't want her to ask what's wrong. I wouldn't know where to begin answering that loaded question.

What's wrong?

Well... A lot. 

I guess I've been pretending everything's fine for the longest time now. I can't even pinpoint the exact time I started putting on this mask. All I know is, with the rise of my Instagram followers and so-called "influence", suddenly there's this self-inflicted pressure to keep up with my identifiers. It creeped in so gently I was unaware I was already under its force. Body Positive Advocate slowly got perverted to I must always be confident, I must always be okay with my body, and I must never get insecure anymore (or even if I did, it was just minor ones that I can get over quickly and easily). It meant that my eating disorders are so far beneath me, I must be exempt from the risk of falling back into it. As a Follower of Christ, it meant that I should no longer get tempted to go back to my vices and the thrilling pursuit of worldly and carnal pleasures. As a Strong, Independent Woman, it meant invulnerability to both loneliness and the desire for a man's attention and affection.

But the truth is far from these projected and assumed versions of "reality." I don't always feel beautiful. I still have a lot of insecurities about my capabilities, and sometimes, yes—my body. Earlier this year, I met a man I really liked who displayed very clear signs of liking me back too, only to be told he's on the fence about calling the both of us "dating," and that he wasn't completely over his ex. I liked him so much that I let it compromise my worth. I allowed him to use me as an emotional doormat, until I felt it was beginning to be unhealthy, I had to stop keeping in touch. It triggered so much jealousy and insecurity that it brought me back to a place where I was blaming my body for not looking good enough. Subsequently, my eating disorder slowly sneaked its way back to my life. (It didn't get half as bad as it used to, but if I hadn't decided to admit I have a problem, it just might have.) 

Pride indeed comes before the fall (Proverbs 16:18).

All the positive changes and the successes slowly began going straight to my head. I loved the fact that I've "turned over a new leaf," that I've shed the image of my former party girl self. Now, I am seen as an advocate. A keynote speaker. A "role model." For a time, it was true. I was on a long streak staying clean and sober. I was on top of my game, bagging awards, big projects, and recognitions. I even managed to change my eating and lifestyle for the better by doing keto and I got lauded for it. I started thinking I had it all together. That I have finally changed and turned my life around. That I was able. I stopped bouncing back all the praises I received to the One who truly deserved all the credit. Worse, I got cocky and started believing the lie that I was self-sufficient. Selfishness and ego got in the way between me and my dependence on God, and unknowingly, I was already feeding them and nurturing them like beloved little pets. 

Before I knew it, I was already too preoccupied with looking and acting like I had it all together. Like everything was perfectly fine and dandy. It became a show. The moment I had struggles, I couldn't let anyone know, because in my mind, someone as "established" as me should no longer be wrestling with inner conflicts. Not long after, the struggling turned to stumbling, and I desperately tried my best to fix things on my own. I thought I could easily catch myself and revert to being collected—to being good. Instead, the cracks became bigger, and it got harder to hold everything in place no matter how much I tried. 

But the thing is, no matter how "accomplished" and "put-together" I look to people, I know the truth. I couldn't run away from it even if I wanted to. I feel worthless. Useless. I haven't produced anything relevant for our advocacy. I am not as passionate as I was. I feel far from God. There is so much shame. It's like I am back to square one. Back to struggling and tripping over the same old issues. I feel like a fraud. I feel fake. It became harder and harder to come to my closest friends to ask for help. The longer I hid the truth, the more difficult it became to uncover it. 

Last night was my tipping point. Last night was the lowest of all lows. The overwhelming emotions of worthlessness mixed with hopelessness just pushed my mind to a very dark place. I flirted with the idea of self-harm and perhaps just ending it all. I've been having vivid visions about it for weeks now. But right after, I'd also get visions of what would happen if I did. What it would do to my sister and my family. Just imagining my sister see what I could've done to myself... I just couldn't bear doing something so selfish and cruel and traumatizing to them. 

I decided to open up to my best friend about it. I didn't really want to at first, but I'm glad I did. I've been keeping this for months. It helps to really let someone know. I'm also seeing my shrink soon. I know that it's serious and it's time I address it and seek help. I don't know if I'm clinically depressed. I really don't know. All I know is I need help, and it's okay to need help. 

I can now admit what big delusion it was to think that I've crossed the finish line. That I've graduated from addictions, lust, and bulimia—like I have gloriously risen above it with great immunity. That from here on out, all that I am capable to do and be is GOOD. 

Self-pity is the same as ego, it's just that it's on the other end of the spectrum. It's the false idea of perfection, of not being able to fail—that the moment you fall short, you can't wrap your head around it. You find it hard to forgive yourself because you've been deluded to believe that you're infallible.

Here's the truth I need to face—I will never be perfect. I will never be good. As long as I'm in this flesh and in this world, I am and will always be a sinful person. The only thing that's good about me is Jesus. Nothing else. I shouldn't let pride make it hard for me to get over my mistakes.

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. —Romans 8:37-39

Jesus has paid for all my sins in full. My sins yesterday, my sins today, and my sins tomorrow.

We're human. We make mistakes. We will keep making them. What matters is that we let these crushing hardships and struggles bring us closer to God. That's all there is to it.

 The Christian life is not the avoidance of discouragement and crushing guilt, but how one lives in them well. What makes a person a Christian is that not that he doesn't get discouraged or not that he doesn't sin and feel rotten about it. That's not what makes a Christian. What makes a Christian is the connection that discouraged people and sinful, guilt-ridden people have with Jesus, and how they think and feel about their discouragements and their guilt-ridden consciences. That's what makes a person a Christian. —John Piper

What I am slowly learning to accept is THERE IS NO GRADUATION FROM STRUGGLES—whether it be addictions, bad thought patterns, or self-destructive behavior. I will always be susceptible to giving in to my inner demons. Just because you got the monkey off your back doesn't mean the circus has left town (George Carlin). I need to drill this in my head every single day. I also need to ask God to remind me of who I am and who He is, so I do not mislead myself to believe that I can brag about my good works and use it as justification to stop spending time with Him. Hey God, I'm doing really good. As You can see, I've stopped watching porn and I'm not getting drunk and doing drugs anymore. I'm over my "big" sins. I'm good. Talk to You later. I'll call You when I need anything.

I missed the point of our relationship and started boasting of my religiosity, when the fact is, acting like my good works can earn me my salvation is nothing but filthy rags to Him. God isn't after my bogus, "transformed" actions and behavior. He is after my heart.

On a more practical note, I'm taking a break from spending too much time on social media. The internet is just not the same as it was back in 2009, when it was my safe space as I was recovering from bulimia. Back then, it was my source of honest and refreshing opinions on body positivity. It's what really helped me cleanse my mind from all the harmful messages about bodies, beauty, and womanhood from TV and magazines.

Sadly, today, the internet has become infiltrated with so much garbage and BS. It's become just as dangerous as consuming mainstream media—especially if you are not vigilant while scrolling through Photoshopped images of Instagram models and curated "lifestyle" feeds. There is just so much toxic messages from the media everywhere these days, whether online or off. Even body positivity has been watered down. It has shifted to this buzz term companies used to sell products, for brands to claim that they're being "inclusive" when they're really not, and to falsely promote "fitness" with the same underlying message of weight-loss over total wellness.

So many plus size models and "body activists" today aren't even really preaching the body love gospel. They're just broadening the spectrum of bodies to be hyper-sexualized and sexually objectified. Gone are the days that body positivity is about celebrating our flaws for ourselves, as women. Now it's been reduced to the same old message about our bodies: that we're only worthy to be celebrated only if we look appealing and attractive to the male gaze. The only difference is now is, it's bigger, chunkier bodies. To put it simply, body positivity has become all about being a fuckable fat girl. At least that's the message mainstream "body positivity" is sending. It took awhile for me to unravel this, as I myself have gone with the flow of promoting "body positivity" under the guise of self-objectification. But now that I see things for what they truly are, I need to take a break.

I'm taking a break from two things:

1. Social media
2. Silencing myself to share my life realizations and experiences for the sake of my "image."

I've said my goodbyes to Facebook and I've uninstalled it from my phone. I've activated a site blocker on my laptop where it's listed. I've also logged out of my Instagram accounts. It's not permanent, but I need some time off of these socials to to have my priorities back in order. 

I'm going to use my time to keep writing and to consistently produce content for our YouTube channel.

I do not know how things will pan out from here. All I know is I'll start doing what I need to do. And that is to just really come back to my Home. Come back to my Father. I won't even make resolutions and promises anymore. I fail every time. I'll just take it one day at a time, refocusing on Jesus and immersing myself in the Holy Scriptures. 

As for my image... Well, screw image. I'm a human being, damn it (talking to myself). I come undone. I struggle and I fail sometimes. But I get back up. I deal with my issues—although I hope in the future it would be sooner than later, and that I wouldn't wait too long to ask for help. 

I try again.

I'm choosing to share the truth about myself. Even if it takes me a lot of hesitations and distractions before I admit it. Even if it's hard. Even if it's messy and might cause disappointments.

I am doing this for myself. I cannot continue living with a mask on.

I'm tired.

It is what it is.

I am where I am.

But I am not staying here for long.

Oh, and if there's one thing I need to start boasting about, it's about how wretched I am, but still loved. It's about how nothing I do will ever make me earn my salvation, and yet He chose to die for me.

(Please keep me in your prayers.)