Last night, like the first Wednesday of every month, my friends and I served dinner at HomePlate. Nothing earth shattering happened. It was a run of the mill evening.
We said, “Goodbye. See you next month.”
This morning, I awoke to Glennon Melton’s post on Momastery. A few paragraphs in, I read this:
And why was I sent here in the first place? I was still sick. I was really sick and this type of sickness doesn’t work itself out by a teenager girl. It just doesn’t. It gets worse. Of course it does. And so all of this is starting to feel like a bit of a set up because what the hell else was going to happen to me here?? I was young and sick and lost and addicted to food and so wasn’t it just inevitable that I’d find the booze and the drugs and the people who would make me feel like booze and drugs and bulimia and casual sex were OK? Cool, even?
Where were the GODDAMN ADULTS? WHERE WERE THE GODDAMN HEALTHY PEOPLE? WHY DIDN’T THEY NOTICE ME?
|HomePlate Crew, milling about|