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.

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