Eating disorders
My freshman year of college, I found out that one of my oldest friends (ballet in pre-school old friends) had bulimia. But, we hadn't lived in the same state in three years and were out of practice in being friends, so though we were on the same campus, we allowed ourselves to drift apart. She was busy with her stuff and I was busy with my stupidity.
A month after school had started, she was kicked out because of her eating disorder but she returned after the Christmas break. I was pretty heavy into being an idiot at that point and I don't think I saw her more than once the first three weeks of school.
The second week in February I received a phone call at 8:30 from my mother. "Annie, [...] is in the hospital. You need to go there until her mother can get there."
She had attempted to overdose on aspirin but her roommate woke up to her vomiting and called for an ambulance. She was hooked up to two tubes, one helping her breathing and the other forcing charcoal into her stomach to absorb the drugs. Because of the tube in her throat, she couldn't speak, but she tried to write down her thoughts. She wrote that she wanted to die, that she was in pain, that she didn't want to go on, that she wanted to go to Jesus. She still wanted to die. Her mother read that note and her cry was truly heart-wrenching: a raw, gutteral wail that came from deepest suffering and sorrow.
I still can't imagine how someone can get through something like that, and I was in it. What's more amazing is that I am still a bad friend, I still let the status-quo suffice, I still hesitate to confront and encourage friends, I still let myself drift from people who aren't completely convenient to meet with. We talk about life-changing events in our lives, and this should have been one for me. But I am too selfish and self-absorbed, too scared of the reaction I might get, too lazy, to do anything.
I now have three friends who are either currently struggling with or recovering from an eating disorder. I really don't know how to handle it. Some of my hesitancy is from my past experience, but much of it is unresolved sin and ungodly fear. May God grant me a spirit of power and love and open my mouth to speak loving truth.
A month after school had started, she was kicked out because of her eating disorder but she returned after the Christmas break. I was pretty heavy into being an idiot at that point and I don't think I saw her more than once the first three weeks of school.
The second week in February I received a phone call at 8:30 from my mother. "Annie, [...] is in the hospital. You need to go there until her mother can get there."
She had attempted to overdose on aspirin but her roommate woke up to her vomiting and called for an ambulance. She was hooked up to two tubes, one helping her breathing and the other forcing charcoal into her stomach to absorb the drugs. Because of the tube in her throat, she couldn't speak, but she tried to write down her thoughts. She wrote that she wanted to die, that she was in pain, that she didn't want to go on, that she wanted to go to Jesus. She still wanted to die. Her mother read that note and her cry was truly heart-wrenching: a raw, gutteral wail that came from deepest suffering and sorrow.
I still can't imagine how someone can get through something like that, and I was in it. What's more amazing is that I am still a bad friend, I still let the status-quo suffice, I still hesitate to confront and encourage friends, I still let myself drift from people who aren't completely convenient to meet with. We talk about life-changing events in our lives, and this should have been one for me. But I am too selfish and self-absorbed, too scared of the reaction I might get, too lazy, to do anything.
I now have three friends who are either currently struggling with or recovering from an eating disorder. I really don't know how to handle it. Some of my hesitancy is from my past experience, but much of it is unresolved sin and ungodly fear. May God grant me a spirit of power and love and open my mouth to speak loving truth.
