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.