Yesterday I went to a seminar on recovery. There were several different guest speakers discussing the hell they went through and how they got through it to become recovered.
I could relate to so many of the stories. I always like to listen to stories from people that have suffered and their journey to recovery.
Than a young woman stood up with a book in her hand. She started reading from what appeared to be her diary. The entries were painful, she described her struggle and illustrated a very dark, horrific time in her life. She was crying uncontrollably. There was not a dry eye in the house.
She put the book down.
“This is not my diary. This was my sisters diary. She was 23 when she had a heart attack in her sleep and died. Her eating disorder killed her. All of the people standing up here give you hope. My sister gives you a reason to stop. Today. There might not be a tomorrow. She always said she would stop tomorrow. She was never able to see tomorrow.”
It was awful and incredible at the same time.