I’m emerging from yet another “dark night of the soul”.  Or, rather, a dark week of the soul.  My body and mind shut down and I felt like I was losing a battle.  It was the most frightened I have been for my well-being in a long time.  I was somebody else – an empty shell.  I was nauseous and couldn’t eat.  I wasn’t actively choosing not to eat: it didn’t feel like a decision.  I was incredibly nauseous every time I tried.  At least I tried.  The last time that happened I didn’t even try.  That’s what was so scary: I was trying.  And failing.  I was afraid.

From the outside it looked like I was actively trying to damage myself: destroy myself.  Like I had a choice.  I was too far gone to choose.  I couldn’t do it on my own (and I didn’t).

It was a hell of a week.

It pains me to be transparent about this because shame and fear is still there.  I’m still not eating enough (though it’s going much better).  I’m afraid of food – afraid that I’ll binge on unhealthy things as a way of dealing with my emotions.  I’d rather eat too little than too much.  But that’s not a workable solution.  It is treating the symptom, not the problem.

I’m telling you this, putting myself in this vulnerable position, to tell you that I couldn’t get out of that terrible place alone.  And (sorry to say) neither can you.  So my heart is aching and breaking for you if you are in the middle of it right now and it seems like it will never end.  If it feels like you are utterly alone.  My prayer is that you can get help and support (much easier said than done, I know).

Perhaps my honesty will help you feel like you are not alone.  May peace embrace you, friend.