I was so incredibly close to a binge last week. I was at the centre. The end of the road for problems, tasks, help and need- it all seemed to point to me. My shoulders fell beneath the weight. I panicked and my mind narrowed, focusing on the old- too afraid of the new.
And with hands shaking, I saw it. I saw myself walking down to the kitchen, opening the door of the fridge, the cupboard. I saw myself thinking, planning, plotting the binge. I saw it all play out as it has so very many times before. My body tensed; my eyes watered.
And with hands shaking, I sat. Quietly in my room, I sat. I forced myself to stop. I forced myself to breathe. Summoning a smidgeon of strength, I looked within and asked for help.
And with hands shaking, I reached. I reached for my phone and reached out. I typed, “I am so close to a binge, but the more I type, the further I get from it and the closer to peace I am.”
It was a prayer typed to a friend for God’s ears. It was a call for Love to help me remember.
It is not real- this pain. There is a better way than this.
Hands stilled, I wiped my eyes, sniffed back the sobs and sighed.
I was at the centre and I chose Love.
Thanks be to God, I chose Love.