Recovery, at least in my experience, is not like in the movies. No running, arms outstretched, into the sunset. More of an embarrassed and painful shuffling – forwards (and sometimes backwards, too). An event – but also a process.
First, the event:
a moment, when everything changed and Christ broke into my world.
A miracle, at least to me.
When I was at my lowest weight, it was like being behind a thick perspex screen: I could see people mouthing and pointing, but they were a long, long way off. No amount of ...
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