This article accurately sums up where I have been the past few months related to my relationship with anorexia.
My fear is one day I will be a statistic, and it will not be because I am not trying; rather my body just cannot keep up. Knowing and accepting my actions have the ability to put me six feet under really is sad and sobering all at the same time. I am not going to ramble further into this because I know this depression/sadness will eventually pass.
My prayer is no matter the crosses we carry or the sense of contentment with life we may attain, we never forget each day is truly a gift.
We are not promised tomorrow, and I have been trying and mostly failing to live each day with purpose, but thank the Lord each day as soon as we wake, we have another chance to try and strive for holiness.
“It is very hard to accept an early death. When friends die who are seventy, eighty, or ninety years old, we may be in deep grief and miss them very much,
but we are grateful that they had long lives. But when a teenager, a young adult, or a person at the height of his or her career dies, we feel a protest
rising from our hearts: “Why? Why so soon? Why so young? It is unfair.” But far more important than our quantity of years is the quality of our lives.
Jesus died young. St. Francis died young. St. Thérèse of Lisieux died young, Martin Luther King, Jr., died young. We do not know how long we will live,
but this not knowing calls us to live every day, every week, every year of our lives to its fullest potential.”
Until next time,