MOM VS. Ed (Big Bad Eating Disorder)

 In less than 70 hours, our girl will be home! She has come so far - worked so hard - and we just can't wait! For the next few weeks she will be attending intensive outpatient treatment 5 days a week for 6 hours a day - but she'll be home every night and able to engage in things she loves - spending time with friends and soccer. (School isn't far behind!) If you are like me, you worry about saying the wrong thing to her/us. Don't worry about it! We know it is a transition and transitions take time. To help you out, here are a few tips that might be useful. 1) Please avoid discussing weight, shape, or diets. We'd ask you not to make comments on looks, instead make non-appearance related compliments.  Here are a few examples: Your smile lights up the room - I am so happy to see that smile. You are a positive role model - your hard work is inspirational. I enjoy spending time with you  - I am so happy you are healthy and home. Your kindness is infectious. You are motiv

 Our girl has been in-patient 4 weeks. (5 weeks if you include the prep week; which was equally hard) We're all exhausted. I haven't slept well in 35 days - so ignore the bags under my  eyes if we happen to run into each other.😉 Often times we are back and forth to the clinic, a 40 minute drive one way, multiple times a day... AND... to see Ed dying and the light in our girls eyes come back I'd do it all over again. TWICE. She's healthy. She's strong. She has her own opinion. Her voice is louder than Ed's. I often think of Ed as an abusive husband, telling her she is worthless without him. She's kicking him to the curb and filling the place Ed used to live with God and self-love. It's not easy. I watch her struggle to eat. She's uncomfortable....even in pain, but she does it anyway because she knows it's worth the fight.  She is worth the fight.  It almost feels like a rebirth. I look at her with the same pride and joy I did the day she was born

Happy New Year! The past few weeks have been full of emotion; we are in the thick of this fight…and we are now seeing light. We’re “heads down” and plowing through – more stable than we have been and we are seeing some beautiful, positive change. I believe in 2024! Since life feels a bit “clinical” right now, I thought it would be fitting to share a few ED statistics. We MUST change the way we approach mental illness. 75% of people with ED’s don’t seek professional help – the majority of them feel there is stigma attached to it, and/or they should be able to “kick it on their own” if they just roll up their sleeves. Can you heal a broken arm through will power? How about diabetes? Even the thought itself is absurd. We wouldn’t expect someone to try. Why have we made those with eating disorders feel like they should be ashamed or weak for because they struggle? The health of our world insists that we have this discussion and have it often. Did you know? Every 60 minutes at least

 This morning, we were able to pick our girl up at 9 AM and bring her home for about 40 minutes. (We had to have her back by 11 AM on a 2 hour pass) It felt SO GOOD to have her home... like the missing piece to the puzzle of my aching heart was replaced for a time that was wonderful, but far too short. We also have passes tomorrow and Monday. Being together in a "normal" environment is such a gift.  We've come a long way in the past few weeks.  We've changed. All of us. We still have the same address; same names....but our hearts have grown. We aren't the same people we were before climbing the mountains this year brought. The compassion we have for others, the preciousness of family, the kindness of community, our faith in God's promises are all more meaningful than ever.  Peter and I are both headed back to work next week, which for me feels good and nerve-racking. It will feel glorious to live, at least one foot, in the world I am used to...and at the

 The year of 2023, for the Jonswold Fam, has been a repeat of the phrase, "You seriously can't make this shit up."  If it wasn't traumatizing, it would be comical.  We've dealt with heartbreaking conflict and dissolution of a fiercely loved community, mono and covid, unexpected death, guardianship, a heart attack, our first (and hopefully last!) ride in an ambulance, a concussion/brain injury, kidney stones, Ed...and this week our sweet Golden Retriever Sailor was mauled by the foster dog of a dear friend of ours and spent the night before Christmas Eve in the emergency vet. Other than a missing ear, our 12 year old champion has fully recovered, but I'll tell you what, It might take me a while longer. Like one of my favorite musicians, Luke Combs says, "When it rains, it pours."  This post is not meant to depress you, but to say, "You aren't alone!" I think often times, we feel like we have to mask our pain and our feelings to the world

 Well, we didn't quite get the news we hoped for. Our girl isn't able to visit home for Christmas. She has been working her tail off, and she has come SO far, she just hasn't been in the program long enough to have the "tools in her belt" for a pass. We're disappointed, but we understand that is ultimately what is best for her. We do get to take her to church on Christmas Eve...and then, when we drop her back off, we can spend time with her there to give hugs and open gifts together as a family. Initally, we were crushed. For about 12 hours it took the breath out of our lungs...then we changed our pain to a mission. Our girl said to us, "I am here this Christmas this year so that I NEVER have to spend another Christmas away from the people and places I love most. This is the last Christmas I will let this disease steal from me." I believe her. Ed gets no more of our holidays. 💓