My stomach twisted painfully. I debated if I should leave the room. In my mind’s eye, I was already in the bathroom. losing everything inside of me. I hadn’t thrown up in years, but if there was anything to make me do it, surely it was this:

My utter disgust toward myself.

My mind accounted for my actions and words, replaying them like endless films in my thoughts. My throat was dry, making it difficult to swallow. Every breath took energy and I had none to spare.

The funny thing? I believed everything the preacher said. Every single word. I do believe God loves me and sent His Son to die for me. I do believe in His forgiveness. I believe it with all of my heart and I love Him back. But I don’t deserve His love pouring out upon me. I don’t believe even the smallest fraction of it.

Has anyone so horrible ever lived? Until now?

Until me?



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