With everything happening today, you don’t know whether you’re coming or going but you think that you’re on your way. Life lined up on the mirror don’t blow it.

Look at me when I’m talking to you. You looking at me but I’m looking through you.

I see the blood in your eyes
I see the love in disguise
I see the pain hidden in your pride
I see you’re not satisfied
…and I don’t see nobody else

I see myself, I’m looking at the mirror on the wall, here we are again.

Through my rise and fall, you’ve been my only friend. You told me that they can understand the girl I am, so why are we here talking to each other again?

I see the truth in your lies, I see nobody by your side but I’m with you when you’re all alone and you correct me when I’m looking wrong.
I see that guilt beneath the shame, i see your soul through your window pane. I see the scars that remain, I see you.

Looking at me now I can see my past. I see the change, I see the message and no message coulda been any clearer.
So I’m starting with the girl in the mirror on the wall.

i am however hurt, and in all honesty i don’t know how to move on from here. where do you start over when you’ve lost trust in someone, when you’ve lost trust in a relationship and question if it can even work anymore. is it worth starting over?

so like i wrote before American Apparel told bondai they were going to send me some clothes, but naturally never sent anything. i guess they’re still figuring out who sent what and why and when and where, but seriously what the eff? im just gunna write them off my list, the clothes aint coming. i just think its ridiculous that a company would get a girls hopes up by saying that they were going to send some products and then dont end up doing it.

this Postsecret just taunts me. it reminds me of how little i achieved through my bulimia. i never got to be as good as i wanted to be. i was never skinny enough. i would never be good enough no matter how much i purged. no matter how much i restricted. at the same time though it reminds me of how sick i was, how mentally challenged it made me. how horrifying every day of my life was. i hate eating disorders. i still to this day have a hard time accepting the fact that yes, i was bulimic. its all so surreal, as if it never happened. i was so used to lying, getting away with things, that owning up to the fact that i was sick and had to get help didnt exist in my world. i hate the person it made me. i hate the fact that i had to go through hell. i had to put my family and friends through hell too. i had to be stuck in a fucking hospital for throwing up. i mean no wonder people dont understand eating disorders. it sounds ridiculous. but i promise you its not. its not something i chose to do. i used to lay on the bathroom floor crying because of the shaking. i was hungry and i felt the need for food but i wouldnt allow myself to keep anything down. sleep was harder than staying awake in school. i would lay in bed holding my stomach, trying to stay strong. the dizziness was insane. the diets and pills, the binges and purges. all of it. i hate it. the only way for me to own up to the fact that i had issues is to be honest about it. i meet a new person and they ask why im here or why i finished school early i tell them the truth. sure it might scare away some people. but it keeps me accountable for my actions. i cant hide, i cant make the same mistakes again with these new people. i fucked up, i fucked up MANY times. no i fucked up more than many times. but i made it out alive, and im happier than i have ever been before. i wont stay quiet. people who are in trouble need to know that it will get better, and it does, you just have to work hard. you cant expect life to just be great, you gotta take the downs and ups as they come but you cant let the downs define you. you are the greatest you can be. you will not let down. be strong. stay courageous. eat a pizza!

oj oj oj. the hell i went through to get my life back. first step was telling my parents i was sick. the response i got wasnt what i expected, but then again can you expect anything? i told them i was sick and that i throw up a lot, so they naturally asked if i had gotten food poisoning. through my tears i told them that it was worse than that. i throw up several times, every day, for a while now. naturally they were shocked. i dont think my dad knew how to respond, he was quiet. mom asked me ‘what’s wrong with you’. i was mad at her at the time for being to careless and it took a while before i realized she didnt mean any harm by what she said and that she as well was shocked. i mean how can you not me? im sitting there telling them that i have been slowly but surely willingly killing myself everyday for the past couple of years. the first step was seeing a psychiatrist. she sucked. so why do you throw up? have any siblings? do you do well in school? oh you throw up THAT much? thats quite often. no shit you dumbass. im sitting here crying my eyes out trying to explain to some old lady why i have bulimia. if i knew i wouldve fixed myself. idiot. so after several tests they kindly explained that i was SEVERELY depressed and that they were sorry but they couldnt help me. great. now what? they recommended we try Children’s Hospital in Dallas. to me this sounded a bit far away and weird. by the time all this had happened things at home only got worse. my compulsive lying sure wasnt making things easier. i told my parents that some foods were easier for me to eat than others, lie. i never admitted to the drugs, another hidden lie. no matter what they tried, they tried so hard to help me. i still threw up. i think the first time my mom fully realized i was sick was when we bought a loaf of bread one afternoon, and when she woke up in the morning it was gone. i went on a binge and lets just say its like flushing money down the toilet. i couldnt control myself. it wasnt me in my body. it was like my eating disorder came into my body and mind and pushed me aside. i wasnt hungry, i didnt want to eat. yet in the middle of the night there i am standing with the fridge open shoving things into my mouth and sneaking food upstairs. im not going to say what i did to throw up because i dont want to trigger anyone or give any ‘suggestions’. i in NO WAY want this to help someone reach their ‘bulimic’ goals. its sickening and wrong, i suggest you get help before its too late. it doesnt have to consume you and your life. you can live happy. you can be free. all im going to say is that after all the years of throwing up, i didnt have to do anything anymore. all i did was bend over and it all came flowing out. mom took me to our family doctor one day and of course i had taken adderall that day. i didnt think about anything and they took blood tests and i had to pee in two cups. afterwards i realized, shit they are going to drug test me. it was too late to worry about that. mom got a call from the doctor saying they found non-normal amounts of various substances in my blood and pee. i tried to lie my way out of that too. ‘i only take adderall because it helps me study’, ‘its not a drug’, ‘i dont even feel it’. it didnt work. i dont remember all to well these months blurred together for me since i wasnt at my best state of mind and my body was not feeling to well. i did stupid stuff, i stole alcohol from my parents, and then when they found out and took it back, i took it back again. they found out and yelled at me and i tried to get out of it by saying it was my bulimia and i hate them for blaming me. wtf? what was i thinking. school was nonexistent. i sat there, and thats about it. i didnt talk to anyone, i just sat. i was a zombie. the morning of going to Children’s i got dressed in my normal school uniform. got ready, got in the car, had my backpack and everything. drank my daily red bull (sugar free of course). once we got there we had a meeting and everyone decided that inpatient would be the best thing for me. so i figured we’d choose a date when i could come back. no. thats not how it went. they stripped me of my belongings. no phone. no purse. nothing. mom and dad left and i was left alone in a scary place. we ate six times a day and at first i refused. i wouldnt do it. whenever my parents came i would bawl. tell them to take me home. i hated it there. it was ten times worse than hell. all the girls asked me whats your name? why are you here? and all i could do was cry, and cry, and cry. over time though things got easier. at the end of my ‘stay’ i was healthier. i could say my name and bulimia without even thinking about it. i was okay, i was going to survive. i would not let my disease get the best of me. it was the hardest thing ive ever been through my entire life, but i wouldnt be who i am today without it. i worked hard to get better, i did it with the help of my support network, family, and friends. i hope everyone out there suffering realizes that it doesnt have to be a lifestyle. you can change. you can live again. i hope you get the help. if you need help and dont know where to get it, leave a comment.. leave your name anonymous and just write your email. ill send you an email and try to help the best i can.

i ran away today. ran from the noise. chose not to listen. chose to do it my way. forgot about the lies running through my head. listened to the truth. its hard knowing sometimes which is right. ignored the voices. decided to be strong. didnt fight. didnt put up my walls and bring out my armor. just let it be. i didnt decide i wanted to be someone else. i dealt with my issues. yes i am not perfect. but who is? theres no medicine that can fix this. there is no easy fix. the hardest part is recognizing it. im past that. im to the point where the voices dont even matter anymore. i know they only want to bring me down. theres nothing that beats being honest to yourself. lying only becomes a bad habit, which gets you into a bad circle of habits. been there. not fun. i think writing on here has helped me a tremendous amount. i cant lie. i cant lie to myself, my friends, or my family. i cant lie to the people i dont know. its sort of a way of keeping me on track. ive made it this far, i cant let anything get in the way now. i will never ever again let bulimia tear me down. im better than bingeing and purging. im healthy. for all you girls out there who still are having problems, healthy doesnt mean im fat. it doesnt mean ive gained weight. healthy means im living life, without Ed constantly on my back or in my head. im getting to happy. one day i will be fully recovered for forever. i will never again turn to Ed.