Hunger

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Yes. I, too have an eating disorder. (Still in remission, for now.) I blamed it - for years - in being found in the trash, in Busan, S. Korea; an abandoned “foundling” orphan, malnourished at 5 months old, weighing only 5 lbs. My father, who adopted me, called me his “little 5 lb. Sugar Bag.” No, I couldn’t blame it on the love and adoption and nourishment I received. I became a fat six-month old. You’d never know that I was hungry: for attention, for exceptional treatment, to prove that Jesus wants to use me as a sunbeam to shine and be the example that Mom displayed at the speaking engagements she brought me to, each time she was promoting adoption. “You could have one of these...like my daughter.” I was hungry for a reason for living. “Why was I saved, pulled up from the trash?” After trying to throw up and purge every reason I deserved to be loved, for years, I tried to fill my life and body with sex, bad relationships, potato chips, with magic mushrooms, and alcohol. (“Shirley Valentine”, in the movie, gave me permission). I was not like the other 19 children who were adopted in my house. Mom said I was like The Ambassador; a special person. I didn’t believe her. When she says, “You know I love you?” I questioned it, as well. I am hungry, still, but not throwing these little nourishments away, any longer.

Richmond, VA USA. I am continuing seeking food for the mind, body, and soul. I find it by writing and waiting, trusting by faith, and then, following my God-given instincts.