Wow, what an outpouring of support after I disclosed a recent relapse! Thank you! This experience reminded me how wide and far-reaching the fellowship of recovery is. I’m blessed to be a part of such a sphere of caring people.

I’m recovering from my one-night binge by doing what worked for the nine years prior – reaching out for help to God and those around me who understand what it means to be powerless over food. I prayed for the willingness and ability to stop eating, picked up my plan of eating where I left off, charted it in my food journal, reached out to some friends in fellowship, and went to a meeting as soon as I could.

I have previously written about “white chip remorse” as something to avoid, but it was humiliating to pick one up Saturday morning. It was both encouraging and humbling to see the tears of those encircling me as they either sympathized for or empathized with me in that moment. It’s a good thing to be around those who hurt enough to care. If pain is the seed of passion, then we’ve got an orchard planted between the lot of us. Right? Rather than regretful remorse I find myself energized to do whatever it takes to survive this and come out better on the other side.

Today was another crazy day, with an upside-down sleep schedule, church, and more homework than I can normally do in a week, but I made it about others as much as I could, finished my homework by the deadline, and I didn’t overeat. That’s about all I could do today.

I’m committing to write more often. I don’t think I could write less. It had been the better part of a year since my last blog entry. Thank you for keeping up with me when I didn’t write and putting up with me when I do.

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