Admitted I was powerless over food, that my life had become uninhabitable. Sure, there are folks who speak of lives unmanageable, but my life was always that! It took more to push me to the admission. I had a Hell Year when I turned 50and it took me another ten to reach the crevice, to fall off the edge, to give up and nowhere a counselor had directed me for years, to the rooms of recovery. I knew she was right but I wasn’t broken enough to go. Unmanageable, I could live in. Uninhabitable I couldn’t. I fought it for nigh on sixty years but when I finally couldn’t keep on pretending, continue making do, I found what I needed, what I could finally accept, and soar out of thereto recovery.