This is an old poem I wrote a while back. I'm gonna be posting a few more of them, if anyone wants to read them, though generally my poems are a lot happier now.
My wants,
The things I wish for,
Don't matter.
The things I don't want,
The things I wish to keep away,
Come anyway.
I'm tired of wanting things that never come,
Of getting my hopes up,
Just to have them fall.
I'm not sure I know what I want,
I'm not sure I know what to wish for,
Not anymore.
The stress,
The hurt,
The lies,
I'm tired of fighting.
I'm tired of defying what has to be.
So for now,
Instead of making things happen,
I'll simply be.
I won't leave,
But I won't stay,
I won't ask,
And I won't deny.
For now,
I am simply,
Living.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Day 1: Describe your current relationship.
Well, I have a boyfriend, whom I've been dating for 9 months (The longest relationship i've ever had!!). I am so happy with him, because he knows just how to make me smile when I don't even think I can.
We have a LDR or Long Distance Relationship, seeing as he lives about 2200 miles away from me. I don't get to see him much, only for about 1 month in the summer. But that is by far the best month out of the whole entire year - just because i'm happy with him. He makes me laugh when I don't even think I can, and when I want to do something stupid, because i'm so upset or something, he listens and then does his best to help me. It's great! I love how he is.... Plus, he's kinda odd. His favorite color is clear. (:
A lot of people ask me how I can have a long distance relationship, and my answer is that you just have to trust. Sure, that requires A LOT of trust, but hey, the way I see it, he's worth it. Besides, it isn't like there would me much difference if he lived here. If he wanted to cheat on me or something like that, he could still do it, distance and location aren't going to change that. But I have faith in him that he wont, and I trust in our relationship, that he loves me enough not to. I could go on and on about him and how amazing I think he is, but that would make for a really long post so i'll just give the basics.
I think that being in this Long Distance Relationship, is very helpful because it makes me stronger as a person, such that I can't get too attached to him (i.e. clingy). But it also helps with my trust issues, because I have a hard time trusting people. And if I can trust him so much when he lives so far away, without my knowing everything he does, then that helps to help me to trust people who I normally wouldn't trust.... if that makes any sense?
We have a LDR or Long Distance Relationship, seeing as he lives about 2200 miles away from me. I don't get to see him much, only for about 1 month in the summer. But that is by far the best month out of the whole entire year - just because i'm happy with him. He makes me laugh when I don't even think I can, and when I want to do something stupid, because i'm so upset or something, he listens and then does his best to help me. It's great! I love how he is.... Plus, he's kinda odd. His favorite color is clear. (:
A lot of people ask me how I can have a long distance relationship, and my answer is that you just have to trust. Sure, that requires A LOT of trust, but hey, the way I see it, he's worth it. Besides, it isn't like there would me much difference if he lived here. If he wanted to cheat on me or something like that, he could still do it, distance and location aren't going to change that. But I have faith in him that he wont, and I trust in our relationship, that he loves me enough not to. I could go on and on about him and how amazing I think he is, but that would make for a really long post so i'll just give the basics.
I think that being in this Long Distance Relationship, is very helpful because it makes me stronger as a person, such that I can't get too attached to him (i.e. clingy). But it also helps with my trust issues, because I have a hard time trusting people. And if I can trust him so much when he lives so far away, without my knowing everything he does, then that helps to help me to trust people who I normally wouldn't trust.... if that makes any sense?
Untitled
A path,
Though narrow,
Can lead you to the best of places.
A road,
Though familiar,
Can give you unknown faces.
Take a step,
Assess your surroundings,
Breathe the precious air.
Make a mistake,
Heighten your knowledge,
Take just one more step...
If you dare.
Pick a flower,
Notice it's beauty,
It's smell,
It's life.
Change your focus,
Feel the fresh grass,
Notice the fresh breeze,
No longer carried by ice.
Smile,
Pick a flower,
Make a new friend,
Allow all your knowledge,
As well as ignorance,
To bring you to new heights.
And though your journey is far from over,
You have reached somewhere new,
And now it is time to learn,
To experience,
To start anew.
Though narrow,
Can lead you to the best of places.
A road,
Though familiar,
Can give you unknown faces.
Take a step,
Assess your surroundings,
Breathe the precious air.
Make a mistake,
Heighten your knowledge,
Take just one more step...
If you dare.
Pick a flower,
Notice it's beauty,
It's smell,
It's life.
Change your focus,
Feel the fresh grass,
Notice the fresh breeze,
No longer carried by ice.
Smile,
Pick a flower,
Make a new friend,
Allow all your knowledge,
As well as ignorance,
To bring you to new heights.
And though your journey is far from over,
You have reached somewhere new,
And now it is time to learn,
To experience,
To start anew.
Blank
I don't really know what to name this post, or even if I should name it, but I need to write. It's like this drive that I can't fathom, an addiction if you will.
My dad legit told me not to come back.... I mean I tried to fix things with him, and he told me that they couldn't be fixed, because I was asking irrational things and that I needed to come back down to earth.. Thanks for blowing me off.... And when I told him as much, he basically yelled that he had given me everything and had been working his whole life for me, and that I never acknowledged him, so therefore why should he acknowledge me? It doesn't make sense to me, but if he wants to be that way, then fine. I've tried my best, and done almost all I could. At some point, there has to be a give, and I think that I've reached it..
I don't want to pull away from him, but I'm afraid that's my only option. I guess I'll try day by day, and see where that gets me :D
On a brighter note, I wrote a poem! I used to write all the time, and most of the time it was dark and depressing. It was my way to get out my emotions, though I did have a few good ones too. Anyways, I think I might post it on here later, or at the end of this post, because I really liked it. It expresses everything that I'm currently feeling, but in a way that you can't just look at it, and tell exactly what I'm feeling. Also, as I'm writing this, I'm listening to music and jammin out.! It's pretty great.
So I had a conversation with someone today about how I was feeling, how he kept inspiring me to continue to fight this battle with my ED, and how he inspired me every day to get better. And he said that he would always be here for me, and listen when I needed him. He told me that I'm beautiful, and amazing, and that I was better than this horrible disease that I am plagued with. And you know what? One 30 minute conversation with him cleared away any lingering anxiety that I had today. I took a deep breath, smiled, and changed my focus to that conversation. It worked wonders. He is the most caring, considerate, kind, human being that I have ever known, and I know he loves me and accepts me for who I am, ED and all. That means so much to me, because with everyone else, I feel like they are just listening to me sometimes, waiting till they can tell me something about them. Like they don't really hear the words I say, and that bothers me sometimes. Sometimes, it's nice to have someone to talk to that isn't going to treat me like that.
I don't really have much to say right now. I am excited for later today, because I get to curl up with a book and my music and enjoy the wonderful rainy day that we are supposed to have. It will be relaxing, and it is a new day where I can start over again, try to eat healthy, and it is also one more day that I can say I survived my ED. And if I look back at all the days I survived when I didn't think I could, then that is one more day I can add to my future.
I think I'm starting to get addicted to writing in this blog, venting my thoughts, documenting my life, my recovery from my ED, things like that. I hope that some day I can look back on it and see what it was like. I never want to get rid of this, because it is proof that I can hit the shit end of the stick, but then still come out on top - or so I hope.
Right now I am listening to Lightweight by Demi Lovato. She is such an inspiration to me, because she hasn't become entirely fake, or caught up in the stuff of Hollywood. She's been through and ED, and she has come out on top, and her music! God, her music is so inspirational, because it's true, and it has meaning. I can actually see how it might be something she wrote out of her heart, versus something that she wrote off the top of her. The emotion she has when she performs live, it's something that you can notice, and something that a lot of other stars lack. I don't even know if any of this makes any sense... Right now, I'm super tired, but again, I can't sleep. There's too much going on in my head.
But I think this thing with my dad, him pushing me away before I'm 18, it will help a lot more. Maybe not right now, as I wish it would, but eventually. It's getting me away from the main triggers of my ED, and it's giving me a chance to start new, to improve and get healthy. I want to keep my relationship with my dad, but right now that doesn't seem to be an option. But I have time, and once I work on me a little bit, then I can go back and do whatever it takes to fix this thing with my dad. I will come out on top of this, stronger than when I went in it. Why? Because I am me, and I refuse to have it any other way. These things are what make me, well me. (:
My dad legit told me not to come back.... I mean I tried to fix things with him, and he told me that they couldn't be fixed, because I was asking irrational things and that I needed to come back down to earth.. Thanks for blowing me off.... And when I told him as much, he basically yelled that he had given me everything and had been working his whole life for me, and that I never acknowledged him, so therefore why should he acknowledge me? It doesn't make sense to me, but if he wants to be that way, then fine. I've tried my best, and done almost all I could. At some point, there has to be a give, and I think that I've reached it..
I don't want to pull away from him, but I'm afraid that's my only option. I guess I'll try day by day, and see where that gets me :D
On a brighter note, I wrote a poem! I used to write all the time, and most of the time it was dark and depressing. It was my way to get out my emotions, though I did have a few good ones too. Anyways, I think I might post it on here later, or at the end of this post, because I really liked it. It expresses everything that I'm currently feeling, but in a way that you can't just look at it, and tell exactly what I'm feeling. Also, as I'm writing this, I'm listening to music and jammin out.! It's pretty great.
So I had a conversation with someone today about how I was feeling, how he kept inspiring me to continue to fight this battle with my ED, and how he inspired me every day to get better. And he said that he would always be here for me, and listen when I needed him. He told me that I'm beautiful, and amazing, and that I was better than this horrible disease that I am plagued with. And you know what? One 30 minute conversation with him cleared away any lingering anxiety that I had today. I took a deep breath, smiled, and changed my focus to that conversation. It worked wonders. He is the most caring, considerate, kind, human being that I have ever known, and I know he loves me and accepts me for who I am, ED and all. That means so much to me, because with everyone else, I feel like they are just listening to me sometimes, waiting till they can tell me something about them. Like they don't really hear the words I say, and that bothers me sometimes. Sometimes, it's nice to have someone to talk to that isn't going to treat me like that.
I don't really have much to say right now. I am excited for later today, because I get to curl up with a book and my music and enjoy the wonderful rainy day that we are supposed to have. It will be relaxing, and it is a new day where I can start over again, try to eat healthy, and it is also one more day that I can say I survived my ED. And if I look back at all the days I survived when I didn't think I could, then that is one more day I can add to my future.
I think I'm starting to get addicted to writing in this blog, venting my thoughts, documenting my life, my recovery from my ED, things like that. I hope that some day I can look back on it and see what it was like. I never want to get rid of this, because it is proof that I can hit the shit end of the stick, but then still come out on top - or so I hope.
Right now I am listening to Lightweight by Demi Lovato. She is such an inspiration to me, because she hasn't become entirely fake, or caught up in the stuff of Hollywood. She's been through and ED, and she has come out on top, and her music! God, her music is so inspirational, because it's true, and it has meaning. I can actually see how it might be something she wrote out of her heart, versus something that she wrote off the top of her. The emotion she has when she performs live, it's something that you can notice, and something that a lot of other stars lack. I don't even know if any of this makes any sense... Right now, I'm super tired, but again, I can't sleep. There's too much going on in my head.
But I think this thing with my dad, him pushing me away before I'm 18, it will help a lot more. Maybe not right now, as I wish it would, but eventually. It's getting me away from the main triggers of my ED, and it's giving me a chance to start new, to improve and get healthy. I want to keep my relationship with my dad, but right now that doesn't seem to be an option. But I have time, and once I work on me a little bit, then I can go back and do whatever it takes to fix this thing with my dad. I will come out on top of this, stronger than when I went in it. Why? Because I am me, and I refuse to have it any other way. These things are what make me, well me. (:
Monday, July 30, 2012
30 Day Blog Challenge! (:
Day 1: Describe your current relationship. If single, describe being single.
Day 2: Where you'd like to be in 10 years.
Day 3: Your top 5 Pet Peeves.
Day 4: Your views on Religion.
Day 5: A photo of yourself 2 years ago.
Day 6: Your Zodiac Sign and if you think it fits your personality.
Day 7: A song and photo to match your mood.
Day 8: A photo of the item you last purchased.
Day 9: A photo of something you ate today.
Day 10: A photo of your favorite place to eat!
Day 11: Put your Ipod on shuffle. Name the first 10 songs that pop up.
Day 12: A photograph of the town you live in.
Day 13: A photo of somewhere you'd like to move or visit.
Day 14: Your earliest memory.
Day 15: Something you don't leave your house without.
Day 16:Your highs and lows of this past year.
Day 17: A picture of your celebrity crush and describe why you like them.
Day 18: A book you could read over and over and never get tired of.
Day 19: A current photo of yourself!
Day 20: The meaning behind your blog name.
Day 21: A photo of something that makes you happy.
Day 22: Bullet your whole day.
Day 23: 20 random facts about you.
Day 24: Your favorite movie and what's it about?
Day 25: Something that you miss.
Day 26: If you had $1,000,000 to spend, how would you spend it?
Day 27: Your favorite musician and why?
Day 28: Something you could never get tired of doing.
Day 29: A picture of your pets, and describe them.
Day 30: Do you have any saved text messages? I so, who are they from and why do you still have them?
Too many thoughts
Last night I lay in my bed, thinking. So many thoughts were running trough my head that I couldn't sleep. A little while ago, my dad kicked me out. I can't even remember how long ago this was. But laying here thinking, I realized that where I'm staying right now, my grandma's house, this is my new home. I am not welcome back at my dad's, even if I wanted to go there in the first place.
See, he never notices anything I do. Unless it's negative. All I've heard from him is "You could have done ___ better.", "You didn't do ___ right!", "You aren't dedicated enough to do ___", "You ask for everything and give nothing in return.", and numerous other negative things. I do admit that there are probably a few things that I don't do right every now and then, or that I could do better, but I don't want to because it really isn't like it would make any difference. We would just continue the cycle, and I'd be doing more work and trying harder for nothing.
He makes little comments about my weight, saying things like "You don't really have the body for that shirt", "You could use a little exercise", "You need to start eating better and exercising more", or the most offensive one.... "You look pregnant!" They are mostly harmless comments, but I never seem to take them that way. I take them to mean that i'm fat, that I need to lose weight, that i'm ugly and gross. I rationally realize that I have not reason to take them that way, but I do anyways. And when he brings these things up, my defense is to start a fight because that's all I know how to do. I don't want to discuss it, and I know that a surefire way to get him to leave me alone is to fight.
On the one hand, I want my dad to be just that - a dad. I want him to notice the things I do, notice when I need help. I want him to want to be a part of my life - to know who my friends are, at least a little, to know who my boyfriend is. I want him to know how I do in school, little things like that. And even if he can't do that, I want him to want to know me.
A while back, we were talking about something, and he said "I know you. I know when you're happy, upset, excited, angry. I know you." and this just made me laugh because he thinks he knows me? What about when I needed help with my ED?? I still need help with it, but he can't tell. He couldn't tell when I was cutting, never thought to see if I was okay. Now this either means that i'm a really good liar, or he just chooses not to see me. I'm gonna go with the latter. I know that sounds harsh, but that's the way I see it. And that's complicated, because then my knee jerk reaction is that I don't want him in my life. I don't want to need him, I don't want to be weak. I want to be able to do things on my own, to live my life and be okay.
I don't know what i'm going to do once school starts again.. Do I stay here since he told me not to come back for a few weeks at least? Do I go to a place where now I feel like an outsider? Part of me antes to go home - he can't take that away from me because I live there. But the other part of me wants to stay at my grandma's because here I can go for a run whenever I want, I get to do pretty much anything, I don't have to fight with anyone, and I don't have to hear the put downs. This part of me says that I have 20 months till I turn 18, so why not just wait it out? Plus then we don't have to pay the $30 a month to get me to and from school.
I don't know what i'm gonna do, and school is gonna be here in less than 2 weeks. I don't really fit in there. It would be good because it would give me something to focus on and work towards, but then the sick part of my mind says that if i'm busy with school, then people won't notice that i'm not eating, and I can lose weight, and be healthy and beautiful. Finally. It sounds nice.... Nobody watching what I eat? Nobody noticing when I lose weight, and trying to keep it from happening? Yeah, that would be nice. But who do I listen to? The healthy part or the ED part? Can I even tell them apart anymore? I think i'm starting to agree with the ED part... Because it feels like i'm trying to make 8 different decisions at once, and I don't know what my choices are.
It's also August, which means that my boyfriend is going to be leaving soon, and I don't want that... I've had an amazing time with him this summer, making memories and such, but it went by too fast. I just got him back, and now I don't ever want to let him leave again... =/
Another random thought that is on my mind here at... 1:20 in the morning, is that I want to be able to make a difference. Whether that be with child abuse victims, or child trafficking victims, or even going to a place like Africa to Thailand, where they need help, could benefit from it - I want to go. I need to go. I just want to do one good thing for someone, even if it means nothing. Because it would mean something to me. Anyways, I have no idea where I am going with this, i'm tired but I can't sleep, and maybe now that I've puit these thoughts onto paper, I can finally sleep.
See, he never notices anything I do. Unless it's negative. All I've heard from him is "You could have done ___ better.", "You didn't do ___ right!", "You aren't dedicated enough to do ___", "You ask for everything and give nothing in return.", and numerous other negative things. I do admit that there are probably a few things that I don't do right every now and then, or that I could do better, but I don't want to because it really isn't like it would make any difference. We would just continue the cycle, and I'd be doing more work and trying harder for nothing.
He makes little comments about my weight, saying things like "You don't really have the body for that shirt", "You could use a little exercise", "You need to start eating better and exercising more", or the most offensive one.... "You look pregnant!" They are mostly harmless comments, but I never seem to take them that way. I take them to mean that i'm fat, that I need to lose weight, that i'm ugly and gross. I rationally realize that I have not reason to take them that way, but I do anyways. And when he brings these things up, my defense is to start a fight because that's all I know how to do. I don't want to discuss it, and I know that a surefire way to get him to leave me alone is to fight.
On the one hand, I want my dad to be just that - a dad. I want him to notice the things I do, notice when I need help. I want him to want to be a part of my life - to know who my friends are, at least a little, to know who my boyfriend is. I want him to know how I do in school, little things like that. And even if he can't do that, I want him to want to know me.
A while back, we were talking about something, and he said "I know you. I know when you're happy, upset, excited, angry. I know you." and this just made me laugh because he thinks he knows me? What about when I needed help with my ED?? I still need help with it, but he can't tell. He couldn't tell when I was cutting, never thought to see if I was okay. Now this either means that i'm a really good liar, or he just chooses not to see me. I'm gonna go with the latter. I know that sounds harsh, but that's the way I see it. And that's complicated, because then my knee jerk reaction is that I don't want him in my life. I don't want to need him, I don't want to be weak. I want to be able to do things on my own, to live my life and be okay.
I don't know what i'm going to do once school starts again.. Do I stay here since he told me not to come back for a few weeks at least? Do I go to a place where now I feel like an outsider? Part of me antes to go home - he can't take that away from me because I live there. But the other part of me wants to stay at my grandma's because here I can go for a run whenever I want, I get to do pretty much anything, I don't have to fight with anyone, and I don't have to hear the put downs. This part of me says that I have 20 months till I turn 18, so why not just wait it out? Plus then we don't have to pay the $30 a month to get me to and from school.
I don't know what i'm gonna do, and school is gonna be here in less than 2 weeks. I don't really fit in there. It would be good because it would give me something to focus on and work towards, but then the sick part of my mind says that if i'm busy with school, then people won't notice that i'm not eating, and I can lose weight, and be healthy and beautiful. Finally. It sounds nice.... Nobody watching what I eat? Nobody noticing when I lose weight, and trying to keep it from happening? Yeah, that would be nice. But who do I listen to? The healthy part or the ED part? Can I even tell them apart anymore? I think i'm starting to agree with the ED part... Because it feels like i'm trying to make 8 different decisions at once, and I don't know what my choices are.
It's also August, which means that my boyfriend is going to be leaving soon, and I don't want that... I've had an amazing time with him this summer, making memories and such, but it went by too fast. I just got him back, and now I don't ever want to let him leave again... =/
Another random thought that is on my mind here at... 1:20 in the morning, is that I want to be able to make a difference. Whether that be with child abuse victims, or child trafficking victims, or even going to a place like Africa to Thailand, where they need help, could benefit from it - I want to go. I need to go. I just want to do one good thing for someone, even if it means nothing. Because it would mean something to me. Anyways, I have no idea where I am going with this, i'm tired but I can't sleep, and maybe now that I've puit these thoughts onto paper, I can finally sleep.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Falling to pieces
Not all of my sophomore year was great... and it had it's moments where I just wanted to stop fighting, and run away. Where I didn't think I belonged in the life I lived, and that by being here, around my family, I was being a burden to them. I just wanted to leave, to go make a life for myself, where I don't have to worry about anyone else, or who I am going to hurt. You see, I have a confession... I have been struggling with Anorexia, and Bulimia for the last year and a half.
I may have gotten better when I stopped the self harm, and changed my focus to other, better things, but in the end, there was still my poor self image, and depression to deal with. Depression is the one thing that runs in my families genes that I am sure I got. And though it may not strike as often, or as severe, at the same time, it seems to hit me in ways that last forever.
The fights with my dad, and the bullying that I had been through caused scars that you may not be able to see, but that I know I will always feel. I have a poor self image, and some days I may be okay with myself, I may love how I look, and I may see myself as others see me... but then other days there couldn't be anything worse, and I hate myself, the way I look. I hate who I am, what I stand for, how I live my life. Odd combination, huh?
Right now I am in recovery, trying to fight this battle with a disease that I hadn't realized I'd had at first. Some days I am winning, but days like now, like today, I don't think I could feel any worse. For me, exercise has never been an easy thing, because I have asthma. And though I don't carry an inhaler with me, when I do strenuous activity, I can't breathe afterwards. And if you pair that with gaining weight, and, lets face it, some laziness, then it makes it really hard to get up and move, to be active. Which then sparks more weight gain, and then more self-hatred and depression.
That isn't the only reason that I don't like to exercise though, and the main other reason is that I hate my body. I don't want to go run in public, because I'm embarrassed. However, at the same time, I don't want to do any exercise at my house because I despise talking to anyone about eating, exercise, my weight, or anything that even relates to that in the slightest way.
I grew up in a different way than most people - my dad was out of work a lot, and he was a single parent,as I have said in earlier posts. This meant that he didn't have a lot of money, and though he tried to do as best as he could for my brother and I, we ended up eating at fast food places a lot. That was what I grew up eating... McDonald's, Wendy's, Burger King, Taco Bell, Top - Ramen, etc. This made it really easy for me to gain weight, and with every pound I gained, my self image got worse. I became more and more depressed, and I stopped eating certain foods. I didn't want to weigh any more, not because of what is "Okay" in society, or what people generally go for, but because I wanted to be healthy.
I couldn't talk to my dad about any of what I had been going through, or how I wanted to change what we were doing, because I had heard him say that he didn't have the money for simple things like paying our rent, and getting gas, so how could I even think to ask him to start going to the grocery store and getting healthy food? Because whether I like it or not, food at the grocery store generally costs more.
I felt like a burden at my own house, and the only solution I saw to my problem of wanting to be healthy in an unhealthy place was to eat less and exercise more. Because see, if I ate less, then I would be consuming less of the bad stuff and strengthening my body,as I had hoped to do. But all too soon people were telling me that I was too thin, and asking me if I was okay, because they had seen the cuts. Finally, a good friend of mine told her grandma, and they both tried to work with me to get better. They wanted me to be healthy, but not in the way I was trying to achieve it - by starving myself.
I am better than that, and though I am not recovered yet, not by far, I am taking it one day at a time. For example, today is one of my worse days. I want to just run, I can't really bring myself to eat, though I did have some yummy pancakes this morning... And the sick voice in my head is degrading me and calling me these horrible things. I weighed myself today as well, and I gained 2 lbs.... which kinda caused me to get a little anxious. Don't get me wrong here, I'd love to lose some weight, because I am overweight, but that isn't necessarily my main drive. Anyways, I'm starting to get a little anxious sitting here, and though I know I really shouldn't, I think I am going to go for a run, try to think and calm down a little.
Though I am far from being recovered in my Anorexia or Bulimia, I am slowly getting there and finding ways to accept myself, one day at a time. Here soon I am hoping to start a photo project, and maybe then I can post the photos up here to help me see myself for who I really am, verses who the Anorexic part of my brain thinks I am. I am hoping that doing that will help.
But even if I had the chance, I don't know if I would ever go back to change this, because when I am fully recovered, maybe then I can help people who are going through this as well. I know that something good will come out of this, and that I will be healthier in the end. I just hope I can make it there. It seems like it won't get here fast enough, or that I will never get there at all. But I can't think like that. One day at a time, that's all I need to think of. And I will get there with the help of my best friend A, and my wonderful boyfriend. He is always there to support me,even on my bad days. Tomorrow is a new day, with new things to learn, and I will get there eventually, because I have the strength, I just have to find it. I am me.
I may have gotten better when I stopped the self harm, and changed my focus to other, better things, but in the end, there was still my poor self image, and depression to deal with. Depression is the one thing that runs in my families genes that I am sure I got. And though it may not strike as often, or as severe, at the same time, it seems to hit me in ways that last forever.
The fights with my dad, and the bullying that I had been through caused scars that you may not be able to see, but that I know I will always feel. I have a poor self image, and some days I may be okay with myself, I may love how I look, and I may see myself as others see me... but then other days there couldn't be anything worse, and I hate myself, the way I look. I hate who I am, what I stand for, how I live my life. Odd combination, huh?
Right now I am in recovery, trying to fight this battle with a disease that I hadn't realized I'd had at first. Some days I am winning, but days like now, like today, I don't think I could feel any worse. For me, exercise has never been an easy thing, because I have asthma. And though I don't carry an inhaler with me, when I do strenuous activity, I can't breathe afterwards. And if you pair that with gaining weight, and, lets face it, some laziness, then it makes it really hard to get up and move, to be active. Which then sparks more weight gain, and then more self-hatred and depression.
That isn't the only reason that I don't like to exercise though, and the main other reason is that I hate my body. I don't want to go run in public, because I'm embarrassed. However, at the same time, I don't want to do any exercise at my house because I despise talking to anyone about eating, exercise, my weight, or anything that even relates to that in the slightest way.
I grew up in a different way than most people - my dad was out of work a lot, and he was a single parent,as I have said in earlier posts. This meant that he didn't have a lot of money, and though he tried to do as best as he could for my brother and I, we ended up eating at fast food places a lot. That was what I grew up eating... McDonald's, Wendy's, Burger King, Taco Bell, Top - Ramen, etc. This made it really easy for me to gain weight, and with every pound I gained, my self image got worse. I became more and more depressed, and I stopped eating certain foods. I didn't want to weigh any more, not because of what is "Okay" in society, or what people generally go for, but because I wanted to be healthy.
I couldn't talk to my dad about any of what I had been going through, or how I wanted to change what we were doing, because I had heard him say that he didn't have the money for simple things like paying our rent, and getting gas, so how could I even think to ask him to start going to the grocery store and getting healthy food? Because whether I like it or not, food at the grocery store generally costs more.
I felt like a burden at my own house, and the only solution I saw to my problem of wanting to be healthy in an unhealthy place was to eat less and exercise more. Because see, if I ate less, then I would be consuming less of the bad stuff and strengthening my body,as I had hoped to do. But all too soon people were telling me that I was too thin, and asking me if I was okay, because they had seen the cuts. Finally, a good friend of mine told her grandma, and they both tried to work with me to get better. They wanted me to be healthy, but not in the way I was trying to achieve it - by starving myself.
I am better than that, and though I am not recovered yet, not by far, I am taking it one day at a time. For example, today is one of my worse days. I want to just run, I can't really bring myself to eat, though I did have some yummy pancakes this morning... And the sick voice in my head is degrading me and calling me these horrible things. I weighed myself today as well, and I gained 2 lbs.... which kinda caused me to get a little anxious. Don't get me wrong here, I'd love to lose some weight, because I am overweight, but that isn't necessarily my main drive. Anyways, I'm starting to get a little anxious sitting here, and though I know I really shouldn't, I think I am going to go for a run, try to think and calm down a little.
Though I am far from being recovered in my Anorexia or Bulimia, I am slowly getting there and finding ways to accept myself, one day at a time. Here soon I am hoping to start a photo project, and maybe then I can post the photos up here to help me see myself for who I really am, verses who the Anorexic part of my brain thinks I am. I am hoping that doing that will help.
But even if I had the chance, I don't know if I would ever go back to change this, because when I am fully recovered, maybe then I can help people who are going through this as well. I know that something good will come out of this, and that I will be healthier in the end. I just hope I can make it there. It seems like it won't get here fast enough, or that I will never get there at all. But I can't think like that. One day at a time, that's all I need to think of. And I will get there with the help of my best friend A, and my wonderful boyfriend. He is always there to support me,even on my bad days. Tomorrow is a new day, with new things to learn, and I will get there eventually, because I have the strength, I just have to find it. I am me.
Always looking up!
Sophomore year. Things had been getting better. I got the help and support from my friends to stop cutting, which was no easy feat, but I can honestly say that I am glad that I did, and that I would never want to go back to that. But that doesn't mean that everything was cured and that all was well. However, it was better - at least for a while.
What I mean is, in the beginning of my Sophomore year, I was just as I was my Freshman year. Antisocial, nervous, and focused more on academics and school. At least at first. I was taking Honors classes, and even made a few new friends. But I still preferred being on my own, and having my Ipod was perfect. I could just curl up with a book and put my headphones in, and all would be well.
Things had gotten better between me and my dad, and although he continued to verbally abuse me (Making comments about my weight, telling me I could walk more, picking fights, never telling me anything positive, ignoring everything I tried to do, etc.) it was easier because I could just put my headphones in and blast some music and then his words couldn't effect me. I had gotten used to him not caring about the things I did, I had done them for me. I hated fighting with him, the things that he would say to me, and the things that I would say in return were designed to hurt... It never did any good. He would tell me that I was just like my mother, that I should go live with her. I won't tell you what that is about, because it's too personal, but that's just about the lowest blow he could make.
After every fight, I would run to my room, crying, put my headphones in and try to do something to distract me from the things he said. I knew he just wanted to hurt me, and that he was hurt himself. It's the theory of projecting onto someone else your fears, and though I tried so hard to prove to him that I was not going to turn out like my mother, that never stopped it.
So I began venting to the one person I could trust, A. She helped me, listened to me, understood what I was going through. She herself had been going through some of the same with her parents, and we could vent to each other, plan things that we would do once we were old enough to be on our own. We would plan things to do when we could get away from our parents. When we could finally be happy. But I can only take so much of that.. Because see, I have this possibly irrational fear that if I open up to someone they're going to listen while it suits them, but then as soon as they're finished, they're going to turn on me. And if you pair that with the fear I have of bother people with my problems, then you see what that meant. I hated opening up to people, because it was seemingly more trouble than it was worth. So I tried not to do it, and failed. I still try to this day.
I joined Colorguard my Sophomore year as well because it seemed like something fun to do that would help improve my transcript for college. It turned out to me more than that - I loved it. And we had an amazing season. We took first in all of our competitions, except for one, and then in state, we also took first, despite one of the judges wanting to disqualify us for using baby powder. I didn't really fit in there either, or at least it didn't seem that way. But I had a blast, and liked most all of my team!
This was a huge step for me, because now it's given me a new purpose, a love for a sport that keeps me in check, and also the confidence to be more social, though not in a bad way. It's hard to explain, but it's like Colorguard is my life now. It is what's helped me so much, and something I love to do! I finally started learning the rifle, and it's hard and painful, but so much fun!
All in all, this is what's made me who I am, or at least contributed to it. Things may not be the best, but they are getting better, and I realize that if I want anything to change, then I have to make it that way. I can't just sit by and wait for something to come along. Instead, I have to invent it, make it, and follow it. This is what makes me, me. (:
What I mean is, in the beginning of my Sophomore year, I was just as I was my Freshman year. Antisocial, nervous, and focused more on academics and school. At least at first. I was taking Honors classes, and even made a few new friends. But I still preferred being on my own, and having my Ipod was perfect. I could just curl up with a book and put my headphones in, and all would be well.
Things had gotten better between me and my dad, and although he continued to verbally abuse me (Making comments about my weight, telling me I could walk more, picking fights, never telling me anything positive, ignoring everything I tried to do, etc.) it was easier because I could just put my headphones in and blast some music and then his words couldn't effect me. I had gotten used to him not caring about the things I did, I had done them for me. I hated fighting with him, the things that he would say to me, and the things that I would say in return were designed to hurt... It never did any good. He would tell me that I was just like my mother, that I should go live with her. I won't tell you what that is about, because it's too personal, but that's just about the lowest blow he could make.
After every fight, I would run to my room, crying, put my headphones in and try to do something to distract me from the things he said. I knew he just wanted to hurt me, and that he was hurt himself. It's the theory of projecting onto someone else your fears, and though I tried so hard to prove to him that I was not going to turn out like my mother, that never stopped it.
So I began venting to the one person I could trust, A. She helped me, listened to me, understood what I was going through. She herself had been going through some of the same with her parents, and we could vent to each other, plan things that we would do once we were old enough to be on our own. We would plan things to do when we could get away from our parents. When we could finally be happy. But I can only take so much of that.. Because see, I have this possibly irrational fear that if I open up to someone they're going to listen while it suits them, but then as soon as they're finished, they're going to turn on me. And if you pair that with the fear I have of bother people with my problems, then you see what that meant. I hated opening up to people, because it was seemingly more trouble than it was worth. So I tried not to do it, and failed. I still try to this day.
I joined Colorguard my Sophomore year as well because it seemed like something fun to do that would help improve my transcript for college. It turned out to me more than that - I loved it. And we had an amazing season. We took first in all of our competitions, except for one, and then in state, we also took first, despite one of the judges wanting to disqualify us for using baby powder. I didn't really fit in there either, or at least it didn't seem that way. But I had a blast, and liked most all of my team!
This was a huge step for me, because now it's given me a new purpose, a love for a sport that keeps me in check, and also the confidence to be more social, though not in a bad way. It's hard to explain, but it's like Colorguard is my life now. It is what's helped me so much, and something I love to do! I finally started learning the rifle, and it's hard and painful, but so much fun!
All in all, this is what's made me who I am, or at least contributed to it. Things may not be the best, but they are getting better, and I realize that if I want anything to change, then I have to make it that way. I can't just sit by and wait for something to come along. Instead, I have to invent it, make it, and follow it. This is what makes me, me. (:
Friday, July 27, 2012
Walking alone
In school, I've always tried to do the best that I could. To be the best at what I did. I'm pretty smart for my age, and I had an insatiable desire to learn. I fantasized about what I would do when I grew up, what great things I would do, how I could help people and make an impact on someone. Just one person, and that would make all the difference. And this gave me a drive until I started High School. Everyone says that those are your prime years, and that that is when you're supposed to discover yourself.
Right before I went into 7th grade, my dad got remarried. I was excited to have a mother. Someone to teach me things, help me deal with all the mean girls, all the drama, help me out in school, teach me how to be who I am - someone to be my role model. And for a while it was great.
I got in trouble like every other teenager, dealt with the drama of who didn't do this right, dealt with the rumors, the gossip, the put downs, being an outcast. I was eager and willing to give her a chance to be the mother I'd always wanted, but that I'd never had. She helped me to know how to do things without being angry when I did them wrong, as it was when it was just my dad, my brother and I. He worked late hours, didn't have time to really be with us kids. That was fine, it seemed to be normal, and I adapted. I got used to being by myself, and learned to enjoy it. I preferred it then, as I do now. But having a mom around was like finding something you had lost and didn't think you'd ever find again. It was great.
Then the summer before 8th grade, she decided that she had had enough of us, of dealing with the shit that we had to go through, because she realized that she didn't want to have two other kids - it was like we meant nothing. We didn't really know as a family how to deal with it, or how to help.
But again, I was the good kid. The one that always had to take up the responsibilities, try to make things as best as I could. Or at least that is the way that I saw it, how I felt.
Some part of me must have known that she wouldn't stay, and that having a mother again was too good to be true. When she left, I think it didn't hurt me as much as it could have, because I had never really let her in. It was really easy for me to pick up and move on, and to get excited about going to High School. that is the time of your life when you are supposed to figure things out, find out what you want to do, and that's when colleges start looking at you. It was something for me to look forward to - a way for me to shine.That was really the only thing that I could control - school and academics.
I was nervous of course about starting a whole new school than I would have gone to before. It meant that the kids I had gone to middle school with wouldn't be around anymore, and that I would get the chance to finally be who I wanted to be. Anyone.
I had started self harming, and had a low self image by then, but if I acted like I didn't care on the outside, then maybe that would eventually become who I was on the inside. This worked for a while, but the bullying continued. I still had a low self image, I didn't belong, and at the time, it seemed like the only option I had to cope was self harm. Big mistake.
I was invisible to mostly everyone. Nobody ever thought that I might end up self harming. They never thought to check, because I got straight A's, I had goals, I was very driven. I'm a very good liar, and every time someone even suspected it, I was quick to dispel it. Until one day when a very good friend I'll call A caught on, and refused any excuse I could come up with. She didn't want to believe that I was okay, and I have to say that I am grateful to her because she helped me through it. She had no way of knowing why I did the things I did, but she tried her best to help me through my depression. And for a while that worked. I shifted my focus to school, not being social. I was doing the best I could to try to make things easier for everyone else. If I got good grades, then that was one less thing that people had to worry about. I was the good kid. I wasn't too interested in making friends anyways, because people never stick around, and I didn't want to be hurt again. I was having enough to deal with, I was better off on my own. Or so I though. But that couldn't stop what was to happen, it could only break the fall a little bit. I made one very good friend that year, and she still sticks by me to this day. We have our moments where it feels like I'm on my own, or like she's gonna leave and I'll be left alone, but I'm working on that.
Even though I vowed to never let people in again, that didn't stop me. All was good in life, for a while. I had survived Freshman year, and overcoming the self harm that I had suffered with for 2 years helped me become a lot stronger. Though I may never truly forgive myself for that, my scars remind me every day that I can overcome anything. They remind me that even when I had sunk so low and thought I was alone, I came out through it and am a stronger person because of it. I am me.
Right before I went into 7th grade, my dad got remarried. I was excited to have a mother. Someone to teach me things, help me deal with all the mean girls, all the drama, help me out in school, teach me how to be who I am - someone to be my role model. And for a while it was great.
I got in trouble like every other teenager, dealt with the drama of who didn't do this right, dealt with the rumors, the gossip, the put downs, being an outcast. I was eager and willing to give her a chance to be the mother I'd always wanted, but that I'd never had. She helped me to know how to do things without being angry when I did them wrong, as it was when it was just my dad, my brother and I. He worked late hours, didn't have time to really be with us kids. That was fine, it seemed to be normal, and I adapted. I got used to being by myself, and learned to enjoy it. I preferred it then, as I do now. But having a mom around was like finding something you had lost and didn't think you'd ever find again. It was great.
Then the summer before 8th grade, she decided that she had had enough of us, of dealing with the shit that we had to go through, because she realized that she didn't want to have two other kids - it was like we meant nothing. We didn't really know as a family how to deal with it, or how to help.
But again, I was the good kid. The one that always had to take up the responsibilities, try to make things as best as I could. Or at least that is the way that I saw it, how I felt.
Some part of me must have known that she wouldn't stay, and that having a mother again was too good to be true. When she left, I think it didn't hurt me as much as it could have, because I had never really let her in. It was really easy for me to pick up and move on, and to get excited about going to High School. that is the time of your life when you are supposed to figure things out, find out what you want to do, and that's when colleges start looking at you. It was something for me to look forward to - a way for me to shine.That was really the only thing that I could control - school and academics.
I was nervous of course about starting a whole new school than I would have gone to before. It meant that the kids I had gone to middle school with wouldn't be around anymore, and that I would get the chance to finally be who I wanted to be. Anyone.
I had started self harming, and had a low self image by then, but if I acted like I didn't care on the outside, then maybe that would eventually become who I was on the inside. This worked for a while, but the bullying continued. I still had a low self image, I didn't belong, and at the time, it seemed like the only option I had to cope was self harm. Big mistake.
I was invisible to mostly everyone. Nobody ever thought that I might end up self harming. They never thought to check, because I got straight A's, I had goals, I was very driven. I'm a very good liar, and every time someone even suspected it, I was quick to dispel it. Until one day when a very good friend I'll call A caught on, and refused any excuse I could come up with. She didn't want to believe that I was okay, and I have to say that I am grateful to her because she helped me through it. She had no way of knowing why I did the things I did, but she tried her best to help me through my depression. And for a while that worked. I shifted my focus to school, not being social. I was doing the best I could to try to make things easier for everyone else. If I got good grades, then that was one less thing that people had to worry about. I was the good kid. I wasn't too interested in making friends anyways, because people never stick around, and I didn't want to be hurt again. I was having enough to deal with, I was better off on my own. Or so I though. But that couldn't stop what was to happen, it could only break the fall a little bit. I made one very good friend that year, and she still sticks by me to this day. We have our moments where it feels like I'm on my own, or like she's gonna leave and I'll be left alone, but I'm working on that.
Even though I vowed to never let people in again, that didn't stop me. All was good in life, for a while. I had survived Freshman year, and overcoming the self harm that I had suffered with for 2 years helped me become a lot stronger. Though I may never truly forgive myself for that, my scars remind me every day that I can overcome anything. They remind me that even when I had sunk so low and thought I was alone, I came out through it and am a stronger person because of it. I am me.
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