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.