Three Years.

Three years up against fifteen and here I sit one month from my thirty-fifth bithday.

I have, as of today, maintained three years of abstinence from bulimia after suffering for fifteen. And what is so remarkable to me is that the past three years have been the most tumultuous of my life. So much change. So much letting go. I have cried more in the past three years than in the rest of my life combined.

The fact that I have not binged or purged as a way to deal with the nearly constant state of grief and overwhelm is a miracle. Period.

Sometimes it will occur to me that I am kinder to others than I am to myself. This is something that I am working on, but this morning when I awoke I thought ‘Wow, considering how unkind I used to be…considering the outright abuse I used to inflict on myself on a daily basis, I am doing alright.’

One day at a time: pray. One day at a time: surrender. One day at a time: be honest.

I know only one way to heal this disease and it may not be yours: a Higher Power.

My life in my hands was a fucking out-of-control mess disguised by anxious smiles and denial. In God’s Hands, it is grace.

Three years.

Happy Tears.

Only Love is real.

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