Demons

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=mWRsgZuwf_8

12/17/13

Today was a horrible day in the life. But guess what? Someone once said, "it's just a bad day, not a bad life". Too true, and I'm so grateful for the advice because it's motivation to keep going. Yeah, I only went to 2 class periods today. Yeah, I cried when I got home. Yeah, I still feel like crap. But tomorrow will be better. It always gets better. I'm living proof that it does get better. Grades aren't everything. High school drama ends. College applications don't define your life. I'm not perfect. No one is, so all we can do is our best. If my B+ in painting is the best I could do, it's the best I could do. End of story. No one can expect more than your best. And remember, even when it seems like you're alone, there's always someone standing right next to you feeling the exact same way. Don't give up.

SOCIETY

Jennifer Lawrence

http://m.deseretnews.com/article/865590437/Jennifer-Lawrence-proud-to-promote-realistic-body-image-for-girls.html?ref=http://desne.ws/qVMt5MK
She is too legit.

My Wish...

http://youtu.be/Vyjq5SCbjQk

Battle Scars...

This is my leg. Forever scarred. Forever ugly. This is the perfect reminder to me every single day that I should treat myself with respect. "Fat" is what I used to see in the mirror. Now I still see it, but it's not me, it's the scars that are on me. This is my leg. Don't let it be yours.

Just Listen.

Have you ever had a week where you just want to give up? Everything just feels too hard? Well. Yeah, this week has been one of those. Sure, our football team killed it, danced hard, and got an actual nap, but no one knows what's in my mind. Sometimes I look like I'm having an awesome time. I might be smiling til I get wrinkles, and laughing like an idiot, but I might be wanting to cry on the inside. School is frightening right now! I'm stressed to the limits with homework and people. This week one if the most frustrating things since treatment happened. A great super smart lady came to our school and gave a fantastic assembly. In this outstanding assembly, she decided to talk about teenagers and their brains. I was expecting this nice little speech of being happy and being kind to others, but no. She talked for over an hour about what we do wrong that make us emotional. Is he also threw in a little side note of "sugar is soo bad for you". Well thanks. That is the best thing you could say right now. Kay. Yeah sugar isn't the best for you, but you can still eat it! Holy frick. I know she was trying to help, but... She didn't. On the bright side, yesterday my friend and I got to stab a pumpkin repeatedly to get our anger out. That was legit. Anyway... After my venting sesh to all of you, life goes on. I made it through this week. I just take it one minute at a time. As Bob Wiley would say, "baby steps"... Stay strong(:

October 7th 2013

Today I feel weak. I feel alone. It seems like everything is falling apart all at once. Everything is crumbling down on me. Right now I'm sitting in my bed crying, thinking about all the things that are going wrong. I know that this is not right. I shouldn't be here thinking my life is so hard when so many people in this world have it so much worse than I do. My life is very easy compared to some. But that is just the thing. Comparison. Comparison is the thief of happiness. I know from my own experience that comparing yourself to others will do nothing but make you feel worse. That's actually the reason I'm sitting here crying now. My whole life I've compared my talents, looks, strengths, EVERYTHING to others. It doesn't make me feel better. It makes me feel bad, and I need to stop. I can't compare myself or my life to anyone else's. I am me. God made me different from you. He made you different from me. We are all unique, and that is why we cannot compare.

You Are Loved.

If there is one thing that I am absolutely sure of in this life, it's that He is always there, and He will never leave you. Because he loves you.

You Are Special By: Max Lucado

"Looks like you've been given some bad marks."
"I didn't mean to, Eli. I really tried hard."
"Oh, you don't have to defend yourself to me, child. I don't care what other Wemmicks think."
"You don't?"
"No, and you shouldn't either. Who are they to give stars or dots? They're Wemmicks just like you. What they think doesn't matter, Punchinello. All that matters is what I think. And I think you are pretty special."

Do It Anyway -Mother Teresa

People are often unreasonable and self-centered.
Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of ulterior motives.
Be kind anyway.
If you are honest, people may cheat you.
Be honest anyway.
If you find happiness, people may be jealous.
Be happy anyway.
The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow.
Do good anyway.
Give the world the best you have and it may never be enough.
Give your best anyway.
For you see, in the end, it is between you and God.
It was never between you and them anyway.

Still a Princess

Love Me - JJ Heller

http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=PgGUKWiw7Wk

You are Worth it

This post is for every girl and boy out there who thinks they're not good enough. For anyone who thinks they're not strong enough. To all people that feel inadequate in any way. I'm here to tell you today that you are worth it. Everyone has infinite worth. I don't care what color your hair is, how tall you are, or what pant size you are... You are worth it.
It may be hard to believe sometimes that we are enough. We aren't perfect. No one is. The media gives us messages that tell us to be better, skinnier, softer, prettier, but I want everyone who reads this to know that what they say doesn't matter. Your physical appearance is the farthest thing from your worth. No matter how bad you think you are. No matter how many times people tell you that you're not good enough, you are worth it.
I used to feel like I would never amount to anything. While growing up, I believed that I was the reason for everyone's unhappiness. If anyone was mad or sad, it was my fault. I thought that I was worthless, and that I didn't belong here. I couldn't understand how someone like me could ever be loved. I later learned that no matter what you've done in the past, and no matter how bad you feel about yourself, there is always someone out there that loves you. You are worth it.

E.D.

Have you ever had a friend you thought was close to your heart? So close that it seemed like you could never part? A friend that could comfort, and make all the pain go away? And people who love you think it's bad and don't want it to stay? Have you had a friend that keeps you up at night? A friend that soon became an enemy that you constantly have to fight? An enemy that takes up every single part of your life? An enemy who makes you feel like you will always deal with this strife? Have you ever had that being that makes you feel alone? A being that takes you away while your screaming to go home? Have you ever had this demon watch every move you make? And makes you feel like you have to be perfect and can't make a mistake? Has this voice been in your head? Telling you you'd be better off dead? Has this obsession kept you always in it's sight? And is so much in your head you can't tell wrong from right? Has the voice inside tell you to skip a meal? Does it whisper that exercise is the only way to heal? Has it told you you're fat, ugly, and will never be good enough? Have the people told you that recovery will be rough? Have you ever thought you had a friend, that easily became bad? Did that friend make your ungrateful for everything you had? Did it get sobad that you always end up crying? And even when try to be good, you always end up lying? And finally when you thought you were done, did it all get worse? Did you try to pick up the pieces from the horrible curse? And then you fought the battle that you hoped would never come. The battle that made you scared and made want to run. The people made you sit, they made you eat, they wanted you to win. They wanted you to be free from the wanting to be thin. And now you are so close to winning this stupid fight. And you can almost tell what's wrong and what's right. When that friend that you had comes into your thoughts, remember that battle that was so hard, so long, that you have already fought...

Mandy Pratt

Help Me.

Land of the Free, Home of the Brave

I got admitted back into treatment on that Tuesday, and had to stay for two weeks. It wasnt as bad as it could have been, but I hated it. I hated it so much more than the first time I went in. Sleeping there was horrible. Every fifteen minutes someone would have to come into my room, shine a flashlight in my face, and make sure I was still breathing. I have trouble sleeping anyway, so this only made it worse. For the first two days I couldn't go outside or do any of the fun groups because I had to be watched. I had to meet with my therapist, dietitian, nurse practitioner, and psychiatrist at least twice a week. Other than that we had groups and free time. I was pretty bored the whole time I was there. We could watch movies during free time, but we always fought about what we would watch, and watching 4 movies a day gets pretty old pretty fast...

We could receive mail while there, but I never got any because I was only there two weeks, and everything happened so fast that no one knew that I was even there. Every night I would watch all of the other girls open that letters and packages, while I sat there feeling lonely. I compared myself a lot to all of those girls. Comparing really put strains in my relationships with the others because I often isolated myself. I didn't want to feel bad about myself because if how amazing they were and how amazing I wasn't. 

I did get pretty close to my roommate while I was in. We stayed up at night, and when they came to check on us, we would pretend to be asleep. We had some really fun times together. The hardest part about leaving was knowing that I could possibly never see any of these girls again. I finally found these girls that could relate to me and understand me, and then I had to go home. Back to the real world. 

I only had one week of school left when I got home, so I finished everything I had to do, and got to go back for yearbook day, and basically school was out. That was the end. The stress could all leave now. I was free to do whatever I wanted, except that my therapist wanted me to do intensive out patient again. I didn't want to go. I didn't want to have to spend my summer in more treatment. I told her what I felt, and she told me she couldn't work with me because it was part of my out patient treatment. I understood that she was my therapist and I should do what she said, but in the end I decided not to do it. I switched therapists again. For the third time, I had to. Today I see him, and I love going and talking to him for an hour each week. I'm still learning, I'm still a work in progress, but I am working to be free. I'm working to get rid of the voices in my head telling me that I'm fat, and not good enough. I'll keep fighting until it's done. I'll fight until I love myself...

Dear Friend -Mia Magistro

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GBgBqbJXBw8

Forgive and Forget

Treatment was definitely one of the best and the worst times of my life. I'm so grateful for the experiences I had, and the people that I met. But a lot of really hard things happened while I was there too. I had a lot of family issues going on at the same time, and behind the scenes I was being sexually harassed. Although I didn't get along really well with my first therapist in treatment, I am forever grateful for her encouraging me to talk to my dad about the way I felt. I had family therapy every two weeks for a while, and it changed my life. I became so much closer to my parents than I could ever imagine.
 After a while I couldn't work with my therapist anymore. I felt bad when I messed up, and I found that she made me feel even worse about it. I switched to another therapist, and started all over again... I felt really comfortable by now telling people my life story. I told her everything, and she quickly realized that I was really hard on myself. She had me doing assignments to improve my body image, and self esteem. They helped a little, but I couldn't understand how I could ever love myself. I had always hated myself. Why should I suddenly love myself? I was worthless, there was nothing to love. I'm sure it would have been easier to love myself if I wasn't constantly being harassed, but I still never told anyone. No one knew until Mother's Day of 2013...
I remember the day before Mother's Day. It was the day of Prom. I was so excited because I was going with one of my very best friends. I got to feel like a princess for the night, and be with all of my friends. When we got to the dance, the first people we saw were my older brother and his girl friend. We walked in with them, but split up once inside. We walked around looking for all my friends while music blasted and the floor shook. I found my best friends and stayed with them the whole time. I felt great! People everywhere dancing, saying hi, and yelling out the lyrics of the songs. It was a huge party, and I had so much fun until the dance was over and I went to get my bag. Of course, the first thing I did was check my phone. I had a few really long texts. The second I saw the name my stomach dropped. It was my ex-best friend. I knew I was about to feel horrible about myself... I quickly read the texts while my heart raced. She was mad because someone had told her that I said that I hated her. That 'someone' just happened to be the boy who sexually harassed me, and hated me for rejecting him. I honestly have no idea how they even knew each other, but I knew this was going to cause huge problems. I explained to her that I didn't talk to him anymore because of certain things he had said to me. I told her why he hated me. I told her that she ruined my Prom, and if she was only going to text me to make me feel bad, to never text me again. She felt bad for everything she had said, and wanted to hear more about what happened with my family and with the boy. I told her I didn't want to talk about it, but that I would see her at church the next day.
That day at church I just sat there feeling anxious beyond belief. As soon as our first meeting ended my brother and I came home to eat before going to the next meeting. While walking home I got a text from the kid. The kid who hated me more than ever now. He asked me why I told the girl all of the things that I did. I replied with "cause it's true...". He was really mad, and I understand why. I pushed his buttons a little too hard. We fought back and forth for a while until I decided I was done. I remember saying in my mind "I'm done. Nothing is worth how I feel right now." Right then and there I decided to end my life. I took as many pills as I could find, and sent a text to my best friend saying goodbye. I sat in my room hating myself. I cut myself and burned myself worse than I ever had. I laid there shaking and bleeding, waiting for my death to come. I wasn't afraid at all. I was ready to be done.
The next thing I knew my parents came running in and flooded me with questions. Half an hour later I was on my way to the E.R. I was admitted, and got a whole lot of needles in me. I had to drink charcoal to absorb all of the drugs I had taken. I can honestly say that it was the grossest thing I have ever tasted. I was there for the rest of the day. I had ruined my mom's Mother's Day all because I was being selfish. It ended up okay because she got to be with my whole family. But we were also all together in the emergency room.
My social worker came in, and two days later I was put back into my treatment for eating disorders, this time I had to stay there overnight...
I'm not saying that I have completely forgiven everyone in my life for the pain that they caused me, but I am working hard to do so. I understand that no one is perfect. I cannot expect them to be, and they shouldn't expect it of me.

My Hero

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jo9flkW0FFc

Changed For the Better: Part II

After all of the drama, things turned around. I didn't hangout with the guys as much because I had made some other friends. I started to hangout with one girl in particular, and we instantly became best friends. We did everything together. We got in a lot of fights, and we had tons of drama, but we were still best friends. She is a gorgeous, skinny, funny girl, so obviously I compared myself to her a lot. I always felt like that "hot girl"'s best friend. I was nothing more. My self esteem was headed back down at this point. I felt worthless again. I wanted to be someone else. One Sunday I remember sitting in my room just crying. Crying out tears of hatred towards myself. I thought I would never amount to anything. I felt like I couldn't be forgiven for messing up so many times. I was hopeless. My parents came in a while later and I just yelled at them telling them how ugly, fat, stupid, and worthless I felt. That day my parents decided that I needed more help. The next day they called the treatment center where my therapist worked, and they talked about admitting me to a higher level of care. They couldn't get me in for another week, so I sat at home depressed. When I could finally be admitted, my parents and I walked in, I said goodbye, and they left. It really wasn't a big deal because I could come home every night to sleep, and I got to be home on weekends. My first day seemed like a week. They had so many rules, there were people everywhere, and I was so overwhelmed with it all. It seemed like all we did was go to therapy, and eat. Probably because that is all we did. We had group after group, and meal after meal. And we didn't get to choose how much we ate, (because we all had eating disorders) we could eat, or we could drink a substitute drink to make up the calories. We couldn't flush out own toilets, and we had to wait half an hour after each meal and snack before we could use the bathroom. It seemed really hard at first, but I knew that every rule was for my own benefit. The girls that I met while I was there are some of thee most amazing people I have ever met. These women had been through so much, that I couldn't even imagine. I was the youngest of everyone in my program, and it was kind if a culture shock. Although the girls I was with had tons of problems, had lived through Hell, and hated themselves as much as I did, they are still my heroes. They are amazing, and I love every single one of them. They changed my life...

Soldiers.

Different Devils

Changed For the Better: Part I

It was in May of 2012 that I decided I wanted to switch highschools. I had already dropped out a month early, and after that I felt like I could never go back. My parents and I talked about all of the options. I could move in with my cousin in Washington, I could be homeschooled, or I could go to another local highschool. At this point I didn't care. All I wanted was to start over. My mom really worried about me being homeschooled because I was already so isolative. She also didn't like the idea of me leaving her for 10 months. I considered the options for a long time, then decided I would go check out some of the other highschools nearby. The first one I went to was Pleasant Grove. I walked in thinking that I wouldn't fit in there either. I waited in line at the front desk with my mom until we could talk to the secretary. The lady in front of us turned around and nicely just asked what we were waiting for. We told her that we were trying to decide if this was a good school to transfer to. She started telling us about how great the teachers were and how her daughter had a great sophomore year. We talked for a while and somehow the conversation led to how both this woman and my mom thought that they each looked familiar. When this lady said her name my mom gasped. She said really loud, "your husband was my son's mission president!". That pretty much sealed the deal. For us that was a confirmation from God that this was the right school. I started up school in August and immediately loved it. The kids were so different from the others I knew. They weren't afraid to talk to you. I felt so welcome and secure. I made new friends really fast. I hungout with a group of boys at lunch, and would say hi in the hallways. I found out that we all had seminary at the same time, so we walked together. The second day of school, I talked to one of the boys that I sat with at lunch, and I loved his personality. He was so nice, and rumor had it that he thought I was cute. To me it was a big deal because where I come from, I was not cute. After that, we liked each other. It just happened. He asked me to homecoming, and we hungout everyday. It was all fun until there was drama and more drama, then I was just done. We were never going out or anything, but I told him I didn't really like him anymore, and that was the end of it.

Fat is Not a Feeling.

I went to therapy weekly with this therapist. She honestly became one of my best friends. I could tell her everything, and bound by law, she couldn't tell anyone. I learned a lot of things about my eating disorder and about myself. One thing I learned that I will never forget, is that 'fat' is not a feeling. I would have to check in with my therapist and tell her how I was feeling. I often said "fat" or "ugly". I quickly learned that those are not feelings. Those were cover ups for what I was really feeling. I was really feeling sad, angry, frustrated, or stressed. I used the words fat and ugly to describe how I thought I was feeling. One thing I learned about myself during my therapy sessions was that I was a huge perfectionist. I had never really thought of myself that way until it was pointed out, and I realized I obsessed over everything, I had to have perfect grades, I had to look perfect, my room had to be perfect. It was all about being perfect. My perfectionism was one of the leading factors of my eating disorder. I thought in order to be perfect, I had to have the unrealistic perfect body. During this time of my life I learned alot about my eating disorder, but I still wanted to keep it. People would ask me if I was proud that I are that meal, or ask me if I wanted to recover. No. I didn't want to recover. I wasnt proud of myself. I wanted to be happy, but I wanted to keep my eating disorder. Those two things do not mix. I wasnt happy because I was alone. I would isolate from my best friends. I wouldn't tell anyone how I was really feeling. I couldn't find joy in anything. The things I had once loved, were now boring and just tired me out. Happiness cannot come with an eating disorder. It's the exact opposite of happiness... Another thing I learned about myself was that I couldn't see clearly. Glasses couldn't fix this problem. Today I still don't understand how I don't see what others see, but I just have to accept the fact that I don't. One day in therapy my therapist pulled out a jump rope. She asked me to let it out on the floor and make it the size that I thought my waist was. I looked at her like she was crazy, but I did it anyway. I made the circle the size that I though I was. She put a clip on it and marked it. Then she picked it up and wrapped it around my waist. I don't know how, but what I thought I looked like was actually twice as big as what I looked like. Honestly I still don't understand it. I don't know how my mind could have made me think that I was twice as big as I was. Scientifically it doesn't make any sense. Your eyes see what is there, but somehow my eating disorder made me see what wasnt there. It made me 'feel' fat. And it wasn't real, because 'fat' is not a feeling.

Beautiful People

Stay Strong.

Dove Onslaught

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uueYISh1snA

Seemed...

"Seemed" was the key word in my last post. Recovery "seemed impossible". A few months after talking to my mom, we decided that we couldn't do it on our own. I had just gotten mouth surgey and was really depressed when my mom told me I needed more help. I didn't want to accept that I needed it, but I knew I did. The day that Breaking Dawn Part 1 came out was the first day I saw my therapist. I was scared to death. I thought therapy was only for crazy people. Later I found out that I was one of those crazy people. I couldn't see myself clearly. I had all or nothing thinking. I would find ways to get out of things that normal people do, like eat. I went to extreme measures to get my way. I wasn't all the way convinced that I had an eating disorder. I wasn't emaciated, I was a healthy weight. Most of the world thinks that in order to have an eating disorder, you have to weigh a certain number to qualify. That is not true. Anyone could have an eating disorder. I learned all about this in therapy. I learned a lot about myself. I learned that the world's perspective is not rational. The media tries to kill people to make money. Although some things "seem" important now, don't forget the things that really matter, because everything is not as it seems...

Life is Hard. But Worth it.

Facing Reality

After a few months I was doing even worse. I wasnt feeling any better. If possible I was even feeling worse... In September I got in the biggest fight with one of my friends I had ever gotten in. We were texting and I was trying to be a peace maker and be nice, but other friends got involved, and we had more problems. After that we made up, but lots of tears were being cried for a few nights. After that things were never the same with us. The good part about that fight was that I talked to my mom about it, and I became a lot closer to her. I'll never regret that. That stupid fight helped to save my life. The night that my friend and I talked, lead to me telling my mom about my eating disorder. I sat out on my front porch with my mom and sister-in-law. I cried and cried before any words would come out. I didn't know how to tell her that I was literally killing myself from the inside out. Telling your mom that you hate the life she gave you is the worst feeling that you could ever feel. Luckily my mom had already caught on. She knew I was struggling, and needed help. We talked about it for a while and decided we would try recovery on our own. I couldn't do it on my own. It was not something that you can just stop. It is an addiction, and it's the hardest addiction to fight. People with eating disorders face their addictions everyday. Alcoholics and drug addicts can just remove that substance. We have to face food everyday. If you eat too much you have an eating disorder. If you don't eat enough you still have an eating disorder. It seemed impossible.

All of the Fresh Men. And Sophomores.

Summer of 2010 was pretty good with all of my new friends. 9th grade started and I was a freshman. Still at the junior high, but we ruled the school. Ninth grade was the best out of junior high school. When you're a freshman you get more field trips, less homework, more partying, and better teachers. This was the first year I actually liked all of my teachers. Some of them I'm even friends with on Facebook (shhh). Mercedes, Kadie, Nadia, Ashley, and Reggie were by my side the whole time. We hungout everyday at lunch, and every single weekend. We always had so much fun watching Pretty Little Liars, and having dance parties in basements. We were stick like glue. During all of this time I was really struggling, but no one knew... I hated myself to the point that I would just look in the mirror and cry. I would cry myself to sleep at night. I wouldn't talk to anyone about how I was feeling. I knew no one could understand. This kept on through the summer. Not only did I stop eating certain foods and past a certain time, if I was too full I would make myself throw up. I thought I was so fat that I didn't deserve to have what others had. By the time 10th grade hit, I was almost at my worst. I was throwing up almost everything I ate and still barely eating anything. I was a huge perfectionist too, and had to get a 4.00 to live, (so I thought). I think that my friends eventually caught on to what was happening. One day my friends and I were getting ready for a dance and one of them said something about anorexia. She turned to me a few seconds later and said "You're not anorexic, are you?". I immediately responded with a no. I ignored it during the dance, but after I felt like I had to tell someone. My brother who's closest to me in age already knew, but he didn't know how to help. So that night when I got home I called my best friend and told her that I was struggling with an eating disorder. She tried to tell me that I was beautiful and I wasn't fat, but nothing could convince me. I knew the truth, and everyone else was just lying to me...

Bad to Worse. Better to Best.

6th grade started out like every other school year. I was terrified of my new teacher. Mr. Jolley. He was probably the scariest teacher in the school. I dreaded the first day. Once it came, everything changed in my mind. Mr. Jolley was hilarious. He wasn't scary at all! My class was also hilarious! I could tell this would be a great year. I made a whole new group of friends now. I hungout with girls and boys. I was in the school play, Aladdin. I actually had a social life. I had friends, and I got to hangout. In 6th grade we got to make paper machae monsters. We got to make gingerbread houses for Christmas. We got to go toThe Space Center. It was without a doubt, the best year of my elementary years. It was all fun and games, until my friends didn't like me anymore. They thought I was annoying. They didn't think I was cute or fun. They stopped calling, and when I called they wouldn't answer. Suddenly what was the best year ever, was now the worst. I didn't have close friends for a while. I talked to people, but I never hungout with them. One day I became friends with a new group. There were 4 of us. All girls. All just wanted to make the best of life. They didn't judge me, and we hungout everyday. These were my new friends. All through the summer we hungout. I thought we were inseparable, until we had to go back to another year of school. And not just any year, we were going to junior high. We had been prepared for 6 years now to be able to go, but I was scared out of my mind. We would have 8 classes, 8 teachers, and 8 times the amount of homework. I think it's safe to say that 7th grade was one of the worst. I lost my close friends I made because I didn't have classes with them. I couldn't make any new friends because I had too many classes. My teachers did not like me. I'm not just assuming, they really did not like me. By this time, I got over my fear of being loud. I talked to anyone and everyone. Teachers hate that. I thought 8th grade would be better, but it wasnt. It was just as bad as the year before. My teachers were better, but I really had no friends. Mikkia was my only friend. All of my other "friends" talked about me behind my back and thought I was annoying. Right here is where I started to slip. I realized that there was something wrong with me. Boys never liked me. I didn't have good friends. I was fat and I was ugly. From this point on everything changed, and I still don't know if it was for the better or worst. Even though I hated life, and myself, I was able to make good friends that are to this day some of my best friends I've ever had. I met Mercedes, Kadie, Nadia, Ashley, and Reggie. They were true friends. They didn't talk about me. They always invited me places. They loved to have fun. These are the girls that helped to save my life.

Trying Hard

After the first few weeks I finally got used to my new home. I didn't like it, but I was used to it. I got made fun of for clothes and other things. I was used to that too. I eventually made friends who lived near by. Jaisi and Catie were my first best friends in Alpine. We walked home from school together everyday, and got to play almost everyday. I remember making up games like "Mystical Creatures", and other things that 7 year olds like. After second grade I mostly just played with the girls in my ward. They were always close, and easiest to play with. That summer all we did was live the best lives we could. Next thing I knew I was going into third grade. I got Miss. Hadfield as my teacher. Not that I cared, I didn't have any idea who she was... That year was great. I have limited memories from third grade, but I remember meeting one of my best friends Mikkia. She was in my ward, but I never got to know her until we were in the same class. We then walked home together everyday. I also met Aimee in Miss. Hadfield's class. She also became one of my best friends. We both liked the same boy, so we related to each other alot. Fourth grade was an amazing year. I had two teachers, Mrs. Pendleton and Mrs. Olsen. I will never forget the impact they had on my life. These two teacher helped me gain more self confidence than I had ever had. I was one of the most shy girls in the school at this time. I never talked, and when I did, no one could hear me. Mrs. Pendleton always called me "Quiet Mandy". I knew I was quiet, and I didn't care. Once I met some of my friends in this class, I didn't want to be shy anymore. They were all really pretty and really outgoing. People seemed to like them. I tried to be myself, but I couldn't get myself to do it for a long time. I eventually got a hold on how to do it, but not for a long time. This year was a struggle for me, because my dear brother left on a two year mission to Rome, Italy. I wasnt used to not having my oldest brother around. At the end of fourth grade I found out that most of my good friends were switching schools. I was really sad because I had just recently become good friends with all of these girls. Even the girls in my ward were going to a new charter school. I was upset, but there's nothing I could do. Life goes on. My 10th birthday was that summer, so I got to see all of my friends again at my party. It was only one day, but I felt so popular. I was still shy, so at my own party people didn't notice me much. Unless the spotlight was on me, someone else was always getting the attention, which was fine with me. The rest of that summer I don't remember, but I know lots of things stayed the same. Starting fifth grade was a huge deal to me. I had Mrs. Largie for my teacher. She was new at our school. The first day I met her, I liked her. She was super nice to all of the kids in my class, and was good at teaching. I didn't like my class alot, but I still had a few friends that I could always talk to. To be honest, fifth grade wasnt a very significant year of my life, and I barely remember any of it. So I'll move on to the next chapter of my life. That summer was the best and the worst. Here's why it was the worst. A week before my 11th birthday my Grandma and Grandpa Hymas went to visit my uncle in Alambama. The Sunday before they left my grandma told me they would be back on that next Monday to celebrate my birthday with me. The next thing I knew I was sick in bed with strep throat. This isn't the bad part yet... I was used to getting strep. I got it almost every year, and it was normally around Christmas and my birthday. It wasnt a big deal. While lying on my parents bed I got the worst news I had gotten in my life up to that point. My mom came in and told me to pray for my grandma. She to me that she was in the hospital and they didn't know what was wrong. Me, being a ten year old girl, freaked out. My grandma was one of my best friends, what if something happened to her? I don't remember much else, but my mom coming in again later telling me that my uncle called and said that the doctors didn't think my grandma would make it. She had a brain hemirage, and was in a coma. I immediately started crying, and I don't think I stopped for a few days. Next thing I knew, it was my birthday. My grandma said she would be here, but she wasnt. She couldn't come that year. But my parents announced to me that they were also leaving. They had to drive with my bishop to Alabama, and get my grandparents. Wow, great birthday for me. The good part is that I got to go sleep at Josh and Sarah's house until my parents got home. To most people, it would seem like my birthday was ruined, but it wasnt. It was Josh and Sarah's little brother Jake's birthday too. Their mom came and picked me up, and off we went. I still got my party. It wasnt what I would have expected, but it was still a great birthday. Plus I got to live with my best friends for 4 days! Later that week my parents were home. I was at my clarinet lesson when my mom rushed in and told me that my grandma had stopped breathing. I got dropped off at my neighbors while my mom and grandpa worked things out. My grandma ended up dying on June 22nd. Although this was the hardest thing my family had been through, we knew that God could help us through. And He did.

The Next Chapter

Driving away from my home in Orem was the hardest thing I had been through at this point. The night we got home I didn't help unpack. It was a snowy night in January, and nothing seemed better than a warm fire. I curled up in my Raggedy Anne blanket, and sat next to the fireplace in my new house. I watched as my family, mostly mom and dad, carried in hundreds of boxes. All of my precious things packed away in these pieces of cardboard. It hit me that we were here to stay. This was my new home. Many neighbors came over and greeted us in the first few weeks we were moving in. I met a few girls, but none my age. All of the girls in my neighborhood were a little older or younger than me. I remember getting invited to our neighbors house for dinner the first Sunday we were there. I came home from church that day because I was feeling sick. While my parents were at church meeting our new ward, I was at hone throwing up. I had bacon that morning for breakfast, and I could taste it every time the vomit came up. When my family got home, they were getting ready to go to the neighbors for dinner. I felt sick still, but I couldn't miss out on a chance to meet new people, so I went. We had a nice dinner, and talked for a while after. Their 6 year old and I got bored quickly, and run upstairs to play. Her older sister wanted to make a movie, so we helped. I have no idea what the movie was about because I was busy trying to keep my dinner down the entire time. The girl I was with kept punching me in the stomach... I still don't understand why someone you just barely met would punch you in the stomach, but she did over and over and over again, once we were done filming our movie, I ran downstairs. I went straight to my mom to tell her I was going to throw up. She was quick, and grabbed her glass of water. Yeah, that didn't do it... I puked everywhere! All over our neighbors floor. What a way to get to know people. Let me tell you, if you want someone to remember you for a good story, just puke on their floor the first time you meet them. It really works. I have not eaten bacon since that day. Not sure if it was just because of the flavor of my vomit, or what, but I cannot stand to eat it. After this experience I became good friends with the girl that punched me in the stomach. I went over to her house alot. She was the only person I knew until I went to school. The first day at my new school was horrible. I was still sick, but I had to go. I started at 8:00. My mom, brother, and I drove down the road until we got there. We went to meet the principal, and then dropped my brother off to his 5th grade class. Next was my turn. I got to my new classroom, and all I saw was boys. I was the only girl in the early schedule. I later found out that there was one other girl named Kira, but she was gone that day. Great... So I spent that first morning trying my best not to get Cooties, but try to make the best of it. My teacher did a great job if trying to help me feel comfortable, but I was really shy, and I didn't talk to her when she asked me questions. At 9:15 all the other kids came storming in. To my delight, every single one was a girl. Well, besides the two boys. But I finally had girls to talk to. They all asked me about myself, where I was from, where I live now, what my favorite color was. All that jazz. The day got better as it went on, but I honestly don't remember much of it.

When it Changed

To start off from where I ended, I'll say that first grade was a blast. During the summer before second grade I had many adventures. Playing Pizza Ogre, and earthquake across the street everyday. We didn't care what you looked like or how old you were, we just wanted to play. My entire neighborhood came outside to play together. My cousins live across the street from my family at this time also. Sierra, who is two years you get than me, was one if my best friends. She was born with a different shaped throat, so I remember alot of the time my cute little cousin being in the hospital for surgeries, and different speech classes. Though she was a good friend, Sarah and I were often rude to her. She was often left out and made fun of, and now I regret every second of that. She moved to Heriman, Utah sometime around this time and I barely got to see her. When second Grade started I was so excited. I had heard from older friends that second grade was their favorite grade. I had Mrs. Joyal for second grade,and she was the coolest. She was young and beautiful, and she liked to have fun. At this time in my life I remember girls being rude a lot. I included in 'girls'. I remember lots of drama, and lots of reading fairytales. It wasn't very far I to the school year when I found out I was moving. This news was heartbreaking for a seven year old. I didn't want my life to change. I couldn't move away from my best friends. I wanted to stay in that little house forever. My brothers and I argued with my parents for a long time, but in the end we lost. We were to move in January to Alpine. Alpine? I didn't even know where that was. It was 30 minutes away! That was so far, I couldn't do it. I couldn't leave Josh and Sarah. But I didn't have a choice. My parents had bought the house, and I was leaving. I didn't tell anyone that I was leaving until the day of. At school I gathered my things and told everyone I wasn't coming back. No one really cared since we were only in second grade. That day I remember driving past some of my friends houses on the huge moving can, as they looked at me in confusion. Even the girls in my ward didn't know I was leaving. The only good part of Alpine was that my Grandma and Grandpa Hymas lived there. Other than that, nothing else was good. There would never be anything for me in Alpine. As a second grader, nothing was good about moving.

Still the Beginning

Life was perfect back then. I had problems with my brothers babysitting, (like my brother locking me in my room, or picking me up by my hands and feet,and throwing me again the couch on the count of three) but it usually ended up being okay. When I was 4 years old I got to start preschool at The Little Red School House. I was so excited. I remember going there and being dropped off with Josh my best friend. I was wearing a dress like I normally did, and had my Barney backpack on my shoulders. I don't remember much of that year except we had playtime in the back with all of the little dogs. I thought they were evil, (dogs weren't my thing back then). I also remember reading out of alphabet books to help us learn to read. For my preschool graduation we all wore red caps and gowns, and we got to read from the alphabet books in front of everyone's families. Once preschool ended, Josh and I were headed off to the big kid school. We finally got to go to Orem Elementary. All of our siblings went there too, so we got to be with them at school. We only lived a few blocks away from the school, so we walked home everyday after school. Josh and I got the same teacher that year. We were put in Mrs. Davis' class. Kindergarten was the best because we learned more than just the alphabet. We got to learn history, math, and art too. When we had recess, we had the whole place to ourselves. None of the big kids got to go out at the same time as us. I remember playing "kissing tag", and other games that 5 year-olds played. Josh was still my best friend, but in kindergarten you meet a lot of new people, so I had a lot more friends now. I remember Gabby, Rachel, Katlyn, Maren, and Josh's older sister Sarah. All of my friends were in my LDS ward. I got to see them everyday because we all lived so close, and I even got to see them at church. After kindergarten it was time to move on to first grade. Josh and I were, again, put in the same class. We had Mrs. Stock this year. Most of first grade was a blur, but I do specifically remember having one week where each student was spotlighted. I do not remember my own spotlight, but I do remember Josh's. His had a huge picture of our friend Daniel kissing me on the cheek, and Josh sticking his tongue out at Daniel. It was so embarrassing. I'm sure I was made fun of for a whole hour. Like I said before though, much of first grade I can't remember. But I know life was still pretty easy back then. Besides getting made fun of for maybe an hour because of a picture of me being kissed, and picking which crayon to use next, life was great.

How it Began

Well I'll start by saying that my life began on the 18th of June, of 1996. I was the fourth child born into my family, and the first girl. For my parents it was exciting to finally have a girl, but also very different from having boys. I don't remember much from when I was young, but I remember my cute little house, and my crazy older brothers. Most people think that I, being the youngest and only girl,was a spoiled brat. Yes, this is the case in many families, but not in mine. I believe that while growing up, my brothers and I were all treated pretty equally. They didn't get the torture and teasing that I got from older brothers, but our parents lived all if us just the same. I had what seemed like the perfect life. I had all the toys I wanted, I had a fun backyard, and my best friends lived right across the street from me. Life was a dream back then. Outside everyday playing process and prince. Coming inside for Dino nuggets and ketchup for lunch. Nothing could be better. I suppose this is the beginning of my life. The easiest part. Back then I would have never imagined all that I would go through in the next few years.