Dear Mia,
You took my life from my hands and decided which path i would follow. I’ve never had a closer relationship to someone else in my life. You were my best friend, you were my everything. I trusted you. I pushed others away for you. I let you control me. I let you in on my deepest secrets. You were encouraging, supportive, and confident. You always had me feeling like i could do it. I was capable of anything with you. You told me it was okay, when it wasn’t. You held my hand through all those years.
I guess our relationship hasn’t ended quite yet. I thought i was breaking up with you the day i sat my parents down and told them what we had been doing. I was wrong. You struggled to stay in my life and by my side whilst i was going through treatment. But like always, you tend to get your way. You convinced me yet again that i needed you. That my life was worth nothing without you. I listened and obeyed. All those nights you kept me up, sneaking for food. The majority of my days spent hovering over a toilet with you right by my side encouraging me. Listening to you when you said that popping 4 pills before breakfast was a good idea because i’d concentrate in school and i’d stay away from food. You were there telling me it was worth it when i was crying from the pain at night and in the morning when i was tired because of the restless sleep i got. I trusted you. I listened. I obeyed. I did it all because you told me i’d be happy. I’d be beautiful. I’d be skinny. I’d have a perfect body. You lied. I pushed you away after my relapse. I realized i didn’t need you to be happy. I didn’t need cocaine, ecstasy, or adderall. I needed food. I needed to respect my body.
It’s almost been two whole years that i’ve lived without you now. I’ve eaten loads of food to the point where i felt like i was going to burst, but i stuck it out and let my body deal with it instead of me running to the bathroom for a ‘quick fix’. I’ve been offered drugs, and i said no. From time to time though you’d be there. Checking up on me seeing if i needed you. Truth is sometimes it would’ve been easier to let you hold my hair back, and listen to your soothing voice when i felt like i was getting to ‘healthy’. But i didn’t. I stuck up for myself. I had my best interests in mind and not yours. I wasn’t going to let you control me the way you used to.
Today you came back for a visit. I was surprised to see you. I was hurt as the same time that i was elated. Elated because the comfort of having you when no one else was there, hurt because of the fact that i’m letting you into my life. You shouldn’t ever come back. I shouldn’t have these feelings about myself. I shouldn’t look down on what i’ve become. I should be proud and happy to say that i’m almost two years recovered from bulimia and substance abuse. As well as i’m living without Prozac. I know you’ll be back for more visits in the future. And i know i’ll still have the hostile feelings towards you, because when your around you make me want to turn back. Turn back to what i used to be. You make me want to be somebody else and i cant be that somebody anymore. So i’m sorry i turned you away today, but it’ll happen again. It’ll happen every single time you pop around for a visit. Because i dont need bulimia to make me strong. I dont need to throw up into a toilet to make me feel happy. I dont need to take pills, or do stupid shit to make me feel like i’m living, because i am alive. My body is healthy, and i am healthy. Yes, i may not be happy with my weight or the way i look, BUT that does not give you the right to bully me.
So goodbye mia, until next time,
My
im locking myself away from people. im hiding. im pushing away. i dont want them to know that i feel like bursting out crying every minute of the day. the fact that i could easily cry myself to sleep every night feels pathetic enough. i dont want to show that im hurting inside. that im falling apart. that i took my clothes off to shower and saw my stomach and thighs and broke down and cried for half an hour. that every time i think about eating i want to hurl. that i hate my body. i hate myself. university is still shit and now i actually have to keep going if i want to keep my place at EBS for the fall. i broke down today. after working hard all day and then my plaster for my model went everywhere i gave up. i ripped it apart and told myself to leave it. i fucking hate that bullshit they call coursework. its not. its a waste of my time and i cant believe im doing it. it makes me so furious, i get upset and i end in tears every time i try to work. i absolutely hate it. i want to throw in the towel. i want to leave it behind me but i cant. the same way i want to walk away from my eating disorder, but i cant.
I don’t feel the way I used to anymore. Nothings changed, yet I’m not happy. I feel fat all the time. I hate myself for letting go. I know I shouldn’t feel like this but I can’t help it. A negative comment sends me swirling downhill. Maybe it’s finally all out of my system. Maybe the Prozac has let me go. I’m standing on my own two feet and hurting on my own two feet. feeling the pain, sadness, and hurt. Knowing I can change it at any time. Yet that’s not how I want to go about it. I don’t want to be sick. I want a healthy life. I want to be able to love, feel the ups and downs, live, and fucking eat a meal without thinking of where it’s going. I’m not happy with my body.
wish i could go back to that time in my life and make different choices. not because i regret it, only because its affected me so much. it affects me everyday. i have to live with what i did. i thought i had accepted who i was back then, but its still as hard today as it was yesterday.
i want to go to therapy again. i dont know if this is a step backwards or what it is. maybe its the fact that prozac doesnt pick me up anymore when im down. maybe its the fact that i have gained weight again and im just too lazy to do anything about it. i dont want to rely on working out too much either because i know where that will end. i cant be bothered with this depression bullshit anymore. i dont want to be fucking unhappy. ive got so much to be happy about yet im sitting here at 2 am on a tuesday night crying because of what? no fucking clue. nothing! so sick of myself. i cant sleep because im so damn irritated. i know i have to get up for uni tomorrow as well. irritated. irritated. upset. sad. mad. pissed off. bipolar.
when i was in mexico i wrote this on the first day in my bikini. i cant still feel it..
“after recovery I still loathe my body. Im in mexico. A paradise. In a suite. My own bathroom, two balconies. All inclusive food and drinks. Yet I still Felt like bawling when I went into the bathroom and put my bikini on. So unflattering. Tried another one on, even worse. Put a dress on to cover my stomache. Nope. Arms still made me look horrific. Could feel my stomache touching the fabric of my flowy dress, that shouldn’t happen. Walking I could feel the fat in my stomache and thighs jiggiling. Disgusting. Disgusted with myself. With what I’ve let myself turn into. Had the same feelings 5 Years ago in Florida. Looked back at the pictures from then and feel gross and ugly. I let myself go, I stopped feeling. I stopped living. I took drugs, I drank. I did anything not to think about the fact that I was gaining weight. Anything to take me away. Anything to take my mind of the fact that I was fat. My stomach hangs over my pants, my shirts fit too tight. Naked I don’t even dare look into a mirror or down, cause it’s gotten to the point where all I want to do is return to my old ways. My favorite shirt no longer fits the way it should. I hate it. I know what it is. It’s the unhealthy food, the alcohol. Yet that’s what gives me comfort. Drinking lets me forget. Lets me not care. Yet it all makes me depressed. Makes me gain more weight. Working out isn’t as easy alone. Walking around the resort I see people, sometimes bigger than me.. Doesn’t make me feel better about myself. Skinner, I’m just jealous. It’s not about someone being better looking than me or uglier. It’s about the fact that I’m unhappy in my own skin. I don’t like looking in the mirror. I don’t like getting dressed in the mornings, and I don’t like getting undressed at night. Not even going to lie, if I had the money I would pay stupid amounts to fix myself. But even that wouldn’t work. I don’t think I’ll ever be good enough. And I honestly don’t see what others see in me. I’ve got nothing to offer. There’s nothing special about me. Theres thousands of girls better. Why stick around a girl like me when im just going downhill? Just wish I could at least be okay with myself. Not hate myself for everything . I’m taking steps backward, but this time I’m going to work at taking steps forward alone. No medicines, no hospitals, no therapy. Just me. Just be.”
it hurts. it hurts to be honest with yourself. it hurts when others are honest with you. and it hurts when you honest to other people. certain things i dont want to hear. i just dont. i dont care what you mean by saying it i still dont want to hear it. it doesnt matter if its a positive thing, its just some things are better kept to yourself. things are great right now. except for the fact that im in daycare instead of university. but i dont know what i want for next year anymore. im thinking about taking another year off and finding myself again. things have changed so much. i know nothing will be the same next year. things will change and it hurts to think about it. i dont want to give up on school but at the moment ive got absolutely no drive at all. i couldnt give less about the shit im doing at university right now. its all a waste of my time. why should i even bother wasting my time caring about it? its not like i get real grades or anything. sometimes i wish everything would be so different. the same goes for the people here. i loved some people when i moved here, and i hated some. its like thats all changed. the people i disliked are the ones i like now, and the ones i liked im not too fond of anymore. im just tired of thinking and caring about my future. i just wanna do some business degree and get it over with. im not gunna find what i love in life by doing things the way i am now anyways. things are really starting to upset me and i wish i didnt have certain feelings. i wish i could feel nothing like i used to. i wish i didnt care. i want someone to push me in a direction where i have no control. its easier. do the work. hate school. still do the work. do it. and be done. just like high school. cant be bothered giving a fuck anymore. if im studying architecture then why the fuck do they expect me to turn in a photography assignment? if i wanted to do that i wouldve gone photography. fucking idiots. i swear to god im so pissed off with the choices ive made. i shouldve stayed another year in high school and then taken a year off now. but i didnt because i got sick. not even sick, i was mentally fucked. substance abuse. really? bulimia. really? what the fuck. i dont understand how i could fuck up so bad. and at the same time it is good that i didnt stay. i never wouldve gotten better in plano. i know it. and i know i can never move back because of the temptations. i just dont know anything at all anymore.
It’s funny how a girl can say all she wants about me and you know what.. I couldn’t give less. Tells me I’m a slut. I’m worthless. I’m a bad friend. I’m selfish. I know it’s not true. She’s worth less than the toilet paper I wipe my ass with. I can’t be bothered dealing with bullshit anymore. I’ve done it for years. I’ve let it tear me apart as well. No more. I know who my real friends are. However someone who I truly truly care so much about makes one comparison and I fall apart. It tears me to shreads. It hurts me in places I never wouldve known possible. It makes me feel smaller than I’ve ever felt before. Am I worth nothing? Do they really see me that way? If so, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. Im hurt. Disappointed. Aggrivated. I’m sick. Sick of being vunerable, wondering if this is really it? Am I gunna be this sensitive the rest of my life? Am I going to care so much about others opinions? It hurts to be compared to someone you despise. Knowing that someone thinks your alike. Knowing that person thinks I’m alike with a person i wouldn’t mind having out of my life completely. For forever. Someone who’s been a complete waste of my energy and time. Someone I wish I never wouldve known existed. Its like telling me I have no standards. I have no respect for life. For friendship. Tearing down my selfesteem with one sentence. Tearing apart feelings of accomplishment that have taken years to gain. Recovery. Therapy. Medicines. All of it down the drain. Making me feel like I’m the smallest piece of trash in the world. I’d rather you tell me i’m like a piece of shit. I’ve dealt with bulimia. Substance abuse. Severe depression. Bad friends. Bad company. I’ve dealth with so much more and been through so much. So don’t you dare ever tell me something so ludicrous as that ever again. I know I’m worth more than that. Don’t hurt me.
When the wind is blowing in your face, sometimes in life you don’t see straight. Wait for him, he will show. When your head is in a certain place nobody around to make you say stand strong and you will go. wait till you see my smile, wait till you see your smile. Don’t they love to see you down, kick you while you are on the ground. Don’t let any emtions show, people always make you late. Don’t let them get in your way, see they say things they don’t know. Wait till you see my smile. Hey, so don’t you look better now, everybody comes around. cause you don’t really need much. cause your stronger and your better and your ready for whatever.
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