I read recently that fibromyalgia has spiritual roots in anxiety and in self hatred. Really? I would have never guessed…
I’ve been musing about that self-hatred concept, though. There are parts of who I am that I do think reflect the person God created me to be…a writer, an encourager, an educator. Then there are those aspects of my life that run counter to what God created me to be…
Let’s examine just one of those, shall we? I am a Food Hater. This aspect of my life goes directly against scripture.
2 Such teachings come through hypocritical liars, whose consciences have been seared as with a hot iron. 3 They forbid people to marry and order them to abstain from certain foods, which God created to be received with thanksgiving by those who believe and who know the truth. 4For everything God created is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving, 5 because it is consecrated by the word of God and prayer.
Many people in our society have a problem with food. Either they over -indulge, or they become anorexic. Although I am not technically an anorexic, I have developed a robust disgust with food and everything associated with it: the smells, the act of cooking, cleaning up afterwards, etc. because food tends to, more often than not, make me feel sick in my stomach. Yet if I don’t eat, I feel even worse, and thus I am trapped in a paradoxical circle.
The other night I attended a function with other moms. Our hostess prepared an elaborate delicious dinner. Knowing my propensity for social anxiety triggering fibromyalgia symptoms, I let the hostess know I would not be eating at her home and ate something beforehand. I took this step to prevent another missed meal and to hopefully protect myself from stomach discomfort.
But guess what? I learned that mere proximity to other people eating made me feel bad! I KNOW it’s a head-thing. I felt fine before the meeting, and I felt fine after all the food was put away and out of sight. But while everyone else was eating, I began feeling nauseated. I looked away from their plates and tried to occupy my mind with details other than the aroma of the meat and other foods that were triggering a bad reaction. So even though I didn’t eat, I still felt lousy. Why???
Another story. Last night my sweet husband grilled pork chops for us. I wanted pork chops. I was excited he’d be doing half the cooking. But after a few bites, all of a sudden I lost my appetite. It became difficult to swallow. I felt nauseous again. It’s sort of like facing the nausea of pregnancy without the pregnancy. The scent of the pork chops, rice, green beans and bread bothered me so much that I couldn’t even linger at the table. A hollow, bloated feeling sat in my middle, and I miserably wondered if I’d eaten something earlier that disagreed with me or if I was delusional or if I was going crazy. How could I go from hungry to nauseous that fast? It happened again this morning at breakfast.
This is a cycle for me. I can look back through my blogs and see entries where I am feeling so ill…and I blame it on food because everything I eat makes me feel bad. Meat. Nuts. Bread. Cheese. Vegetables. Fruit. Even water brings on heartburn in the evenings. And then late at night I wake up with that nauseous hungry sensation in my stomach, probably because I didn’t eat enough during the day.
So…I hate food. I eat it only because if I don’t, I will feel worse with a low blood sugar attack. I’ve said it before, and I really do mean it: if I could hook myself up to a nutritional supplement that would bypass my stomach, I’d do it in a heartbeat. My head knows that everything the Lord has made is good. But my head also wonders why eating makes me feel so bad all the time.
If I could see Jesus right now, I think I would ask him about this eating hang-up of mine. Since ALL food tends to lead to digestive upset, it stands to reason that the problem isn’t food but is instead my system..which brings me back to fibromyalgia…which brings me back to having nothing but questions and no answers yet. I’ve spent three hours a day on the electric acupuncture-like machine since the first of November…that’s 113 days and counting. When will my body get back to normal?
The next time you are contemplating eating a big slice of pizza, enjoy it for me. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to eat it again.