Grief

Hi everyone. Happy Holidays! Sorry that I didn't post on my usual day, I was having a problem with my eating disorder. My mindset on christmas was pro anorexia, and that is not the mindset I need to have in recovery. I didn’t want to influence anyone negatively, so I decided it was best not to post. 

Anyways, I am thinking more recovery focused now, and I haven’t given in to my eating disorder. I also haven’t self harmed, or had another suicide attempt. Even though I am doing great for the most part, there is something that has and will probably always be hard for me to deal with. In my lifetime, (17 years), I have had two major deaths. One was my father, due to cancer, and the other was a good friend of mine, who was killed in a car accident last October. After my friends death, I became very depressed, and felt his and my dads death all at once. I have been radically accepting it for a while now, but yesterday I thought about it on a bike ride. I wrote this poem about my father when I was missing him a lot:

12 Years

A happy family,

A home filled with love, 

Suddenly torn apart,

Broken, broken like my heart, 

I sat with you through it all, 

The hand of a 5 year old wraps around yours,

Just one last breath,

Just one last beat, 

You're gone and will never be back,

One more innocent life is taken away, 

You didn't deserve it, 

All the pain and suffering,

They say you're in a better place,

They say it gets easier.

12 years later and that’s not the case,

It’s just 12 more years of missing you,

Of crying at night, 

Of fatherless Father’s Days,

Days filled with fake smiles,

Days of saying “I’m Fine”,

Days of looking at my strong mom,

Hearing the jingle of the wedding ring hanging around her neck,

12 years and I still can’t believe,

Just one last breath, 

Just one last beat,

And you're gone.

I still struggle with flashbacks and nightmares due to their deaths, but I have ways to cope, that are healthy. Writing poetry is one of them. I will try and put up another post on Sunday, but I hope every one has a happy and healthy New Years!

Stay Strong

Life is Hard.

Hey everyone. Sorry about the lack of posting these past few weeks. It has been really hard in some ways, and some things have happened. My eating disorder has been a problem for me lately, and I have given into it more than once. It is doing better now, but I still am struggling with it. I also just recently had another suicide attempt. It was hard to finally tell someone about it, but when I did, I felt a lot better getting it off my chest. I started cutting again, which has been a struggle for me to quit for quite some time. Like I have mentioned before, self harm does increase the chances that a person would commit or attempt suicide, and so far, that has proven right for me twice. 

To stop the chances of that happening again, I did something today that I am proud of. I put what I was using to cut with in my moms room, and sent her a text telling her that I was sorry, and that I had been cutting. I told her that I left my tool next to her bed. It took me some time to send that message, because not only was I so attached to my “weapon” but I was scared that my mom would be mad at me. But she wasn’t. She told me that she loved me and that she was sorry. 

To all those out there who are scared to tell someone about self harm, depression, or anything else, just remember that people are on your side and are there to help you, not hurt you. It took and still has taken me quite a lot of convincing that that is the case, but it is true. The best thing you can do for yourself is to be honest.

Life is hard. It has thrown so many obstacles in my way, and I have yet to get through many of them. I’m not going to lie, sometimes I wish that I could escape it all, and sometimes I wish I didn’t wake up, but I am trying. I will keep fighting, with the hope that maybe one day life will get slightly easier. 

Stay Strong.

Bad News

Hey guys. I have some bad and disappointing news to tell you all. I ended up breaking my 147th day clean from any eating disorder behaviors. It was a hard eating disorder day yesterday, and my anorexia beat me up so badly that I acted on a behavior. I am terribly sorry, and very ashamed.

As I sit here the next day writing this post, I have thought about what it was like when I was deep in my eating disorder back in the February. 

It was such a scary time  not only for me, but for my whole family. My sisters would nervously wait around for me when I got out from my weekly labs hoping that my counts would go up back to a healthy range, and that my organs wouldn't fail on me. I remember the day when I was officially diagnosed with Anorexia. I was at my yearly check up, which went down hill rapidly as my doctor showed my mom my growth chart, and told her what would happen to my body if I kept on doing what I was doing to myself. I realize that that is not what I want. I don’t want to go back to that. Going back to that would jeopardize so much. I would lose all the hard work Ive done over the past 9 months. I wouldn't be able to go to college next year, and I would lose trust that I’ve been trying to earn back for a long time. 

I have realized that recovery is not an easy road, and you will approach bumps, like I did yesterday. But that doesn't mean you should just give in and stop fighting. Just look how far you have come and remind yourself that you are so much stronger than this. It is okay to mess up in life, but it is NOT okay to give up. I refuse to give up, and I will not let this eating disorder control me again. I am going to come out a winner in this war, because I am a fighter and my anorexia is not going to control me.

Know that I am truly sorry, and I am doing all I can to prevent this from happening again.

Stay Strong

Waging War

Hi, I hope everyone’s weekend is going smoothly. My week has been pretty boring, filled with therapy and schoolwork. I did, however, visit High Point University yesterday which was great. I have visited it before and I love it. It was so exciting to actually walk around the campus where I will be living next year!

I have been writing poems ever since I was diagnosed with anorexia in February. I find that it has been a great way to help me express how I am feeling to other people, and my treatment team because I have a hard time saying how I feel. Before my last hospitalization, I struggled a lot with both suicidality and self harm. My therapist told me when I relapsed in self harm, that I had a greater chance of turning to suicide again. I didn't believe her, because at that time, I didn't really think much about suicide. I told her that I didn't  want to stop and that even if I tried, I was too attached to my weapon. This is a poem I wrote right before I was hospitalized:

I’m in a War

I am in a war. 

The war is with myself. I’m shooting back and forth.

 A Knife fight with only one winner.

 A Knife, held in my broken hands, as I sit in the corner of the world.

My world is dark. I am lost in a state of despondency with no way but down.

I am in a war. 

The battle wounds are written on my wrists, reading the words “help me”

Help me get out of here.

Out of this cave where the only thing that echoes are my screams.

Screams, which are never heard because I'm too busy hiding my scars.

Scars which remind me of my past and the only thing that keeps it alive is that blade.

I shake in fear of the casualties, not knowing where to run next.

Running, my mind moves expeditiously, chased by nightmares that hide in my closet of

 Chaos.

It’s chaos but I can’t stop. I don't want to let go. 

I’m too attached to my weapon. 

I’m losing the battle yet I won’t surrender, for the pain I feel is leading me to the edge,

The edge of the cliff where all that’s left standing is a shadow.

It’s an ominous figure holding its arms out for me, saying “I’m here for you”.

But it’s lying.

Every time I embrace my friend it turns on me.

I feel ashamed, and am tired of the blankets covering the pain I inflict.

There is no escape, except from that moment of time,

Where my hands are the only thing comforting me and my scars are my reminder that I am in a war.

I am in a war and there will be no winners.

For the only fighters are myself and my past.

Past the monsters I’m walking faster and faster,

Moving is the only thing keeping me alive.

Alive from the knife being thrown in my back.

My shadow is killing me. 

It leaves me lifeless in the raging fire. 

I lay there, still holding onto the only thing I have left.

I am in a war.

For awhile I was very stubborn. I didn't want to let go of what I thought was the only thing I had left. I thought that a weapon used to inflict pain on myself was my friend. I thought it was there for me but at the same time I hated it so much. It was tearing my family and friends apart for all they could do was watch as an innocent soul cut until she couldn't take it anymore. But my fifth hospitalization was a wake up call for me. I thought about every thing that I was missing out on while I was trapped in a building. And it was all for what? 

For the sense of control that I never got. I am still in a war, but I am fighting every single day for my life, and I will not let that ominous figure control my life anymore.

Have a great week.

Stay strong.