It was past midnight and the freshman dorm was quiet. I could hear the faint snoring of my roommate in the bunk bed above. I was wide awake. I hadn’t eaten for three days and my stomach was growling.
I reached for my wallet on the bedside table and extracted a few singles. There was a vending machine in the lounge down the hall. I’ll just get some crackers, I told myself.
But one by one an array of candy bars clunked to the receptor. Soon I was back in bed, under the blanket, unwrapping a Milky Way bar.
There was a rush of satisfaction at the first bite of stretchy caramel. One bar eaten. Then two. I knew I should stop. But within minutes all that remained were crumpled wrappers and shame. How many I had consumed was unclear.
I reached for my wallet and pulled out more singles.
The year was 1976 and eating disorders did not yet have a name. I rode a rollercoaster of bingeing and purging. When bingeing, I found hiding places across campus, skipping classes, avoiding people. When purging, I was on the running track, furiously clocking in the miles. I had diuretics and diet pills at my disposal. I starved myself for days on end.
That summer, it became so bad that my parents put padlocks on their kitchen cabinets. They sent me to a hypnotist and a psychologist. They threatened to send me to a mental health facility in Vermont.
How could God love someone like me? It was unfathomable.
But He did.
And eventually I reached for His hand to pull me out of the pit. His hand had been there all the time.
As I gripped that hand, the rollercoaster slowed down. I recall small victories – the time I ordered one slice of pie at Baker’s Square – ate it slowly – and did not return to buy the whole pie. The day I sat in the school cafeteria and ate a peanut butter sandwich in full view.
Forty years later, I still over-exercise. And when I step on the scale, I brace myself on the bathroom sink. But when the number pops into view, and the desire to over-control threatens to overtake me, God says,
You are more than a number. I love you.
The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth.
Click here for reassurance that God loves you.
So painful to read. I wanted to hug you! Brave to relate this story and so brutally honest! Bravo you! Xxoo
On Fri, Apr 26, 2019 at 11:25 AM Shadows and Shelters wrote:
> barclaytmarcell posted: “It was past midnight and the freshman dorm was > quiet. I could hear the faint snoring of my roommate in the bunk bed > above. I was wide awake. I hadn’t eaten for three days and my stomach was > growling. I reached for my wallet on the bedside table and ext” >
AMAZING! Bless you!
Your honesty is amazing !
Your writing is therapy!
Your God is Good !