Dear Self Hatred,

Could you leave me alone? I'd really appreciate it!

                                                                 ~ Sincerely, one lonely gal

Pills,
Pills,
Pills,

Every time I have a migraine, I deal with it. . .

It got really old. . .

16 extra-strength tylenol. . .

Mocking me for an attempted OD. . .

It wasn't even 16, it was 32. . .

~ Until last night, I didn't take anything to rid me of the migraine. . .
~ So I asked for 2. . .
~ The bottle was thrown at me. . .
~ It struck my right collarbone. . .

GREAT!

Now I'm reminded of my desire to actually feel my collarbones with no effort. . .

I hate you!

When you talk about me behind my back!
When you laugh at the way I turn red when I'm nervous!
When you look at me in disgust!
When you judge my weight!
When you say, "How could she get that huge?"
When you say, "I'm glad I'm not fat!"

I hate you!

When you tell me I look beautiful!
When you tell me I look good in my outfit!
When you seem concerned if I've eaten or not!
When you tell me I am perfect just the way I am!

I hate you!

When you ask me if I want your leftovers!
When you look at me asking if I really need seconds!
When you convince me to buy a salad!
When you drag me into stores that are not made for my size!
When you ask for my jacket because it's like a blanket to you!
When you look through my clothes!
When you hold my shirt to your body as if it's a dress!
When you ask me if I want a crop-top!

I hate you!

Everywhere I look, I see perfection!
Everywhere I go, I feel everyone's eyes piercing into my soul!
Everywhere I go, I hate myself more and more!

You don't care. . .
You tell me I'm being selfish. . .
You tell me to think about everyone else when in fact, I already do think about everyone!
You tell me I'm fine!

I am fine. . .

Until I don't eat for days. . .

Or my knuckles are bruised. . .

Or my throat hurts. . .

Or I just stop everything. . .

I HATE YOU!!!

This temporary pain feels as though it will last an eternity.

This temporary pain makes me feel as though I have traveled so far just to reach a destination with no outlet!

This temporary pain lingers on every inch of my body!

This temporary pain is this noise of an explosion that blew up and injured my insides!

This temporary pain is a shape-shifter that can fool and deceive every living soul that knows of my existence.

This temporary pain is silent to others until it can no longer suffice my brain capacity.

This temporary pain follows closely behind my shadow.

This temporary pain didn't want to stay in that temporary home where it was created.

This temporary pain knows no boundaries of respect.

This temporary pain engulfs my every thought.

This temporary pain is just as it is called: temporary.

My body is a canvas.
A canvas of many different mediums.
Some great.
Some awful.

How could art be awful?

This medium involved Scarlett. . .
  -Bright Scarlett. . .
Silver. . .
  -Shiny Silver. . .
Tears. . .
  -So many tears. . .

Self-harm is something I truly never thought I would find.
I never thought that I could inflict so much physical pain on myself, when everyone saw me as the "baby" of the family.

You know, it's always been easier to be the cause of the pain. That way, you can actually stop the pain. But I didn't want to. I liked feeling the "real" pain. I didn't have access to drugs or alcohol, so I found something else to get addicted to.

At first it wasn't as bad.
One cut.
Then two.
Then three.
Then one whole top of my thigh.

I still didn't think it was bad.
I was oblivious.

Then something happened.
I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder, Generalized Anxiety, Psychosis and PTSD.
So then, the cutting got worse because I couldn't stand the thought of being everyone's problem.
I couldn't stand the truth of what "I" was.
I was THE problem.

Everyone had to put their lives on hold.
For me. . .
I hated myself.

I was crying out for help, but I was invisible.
I was hidden in plain sight and I might as well have put on a show for my family.
Called, "Welcome to the Destruction of a Ghost!"
Because I was invisible!!!

Oh, but it was all my fault?

How?

I eventually started to dissociate.
Meaning, I had no clue what I was doing or where I was.
I starting waking up with more throbbing wounds that I didn't remember.
I was in danger.

Oh!
That's nothing.
The worst of it all was when I would dissociate AND have a psychotic episode.
The voices grew louder each day, until I cut deep enough to need stitches.
I never got those stitches.
I was still hidden in plain sight.

I. . .Finally. . .Got. . .Help!

Two years, 11 psych wards, and so much pain.

I've been clean for 4 months.
It's a battle that I fight everyday, but I'm a warrior with the proper training.

I've gotten rid of that awful medium on this canvas.

Now I express myself through the power of words, writing music, and putting my thoughts in to illustrated art!

I get it!
I really get it!

Most days I heard, "Hey Fatty!" more than I heard, "Hello!"
Most days I looked in the mirror at my biggest enemy.
Most days I just cried.

I never understood how someone could just look at me and tell me that I'm fat.
I am not blind.
I KNOW THAT I'M FAT and I don't need you to point it out for the 20th time today!!!
I really do know that I'm fat and I wish I could change it.

I tried to change it.
By starving myself.
By forcing my fingers to the back of my throat.
By exercising until I passed out.

I GET IT!
I'M FAT!
Please stop reminding me!
Please stop haunting my thoughts with those hateful words!
Please think before you speak!
Please!

I realized that starving myself wasn't helping and I was just in pain because of how hungry I was.

I realized that making myself ***** wasn't helping either, I would just cry because I knew that the food in my stomach was getting absorbed.

I realized that exercising until I passed out wasn't right, but I wasn't going to stop.

The suicide attempts.
Just because I wasn't thin enough.
Just because I let myself eat more that one rice cake.
Just because no one believed me.
Just because I hated myself.
Just because of you!

I get it!
I really get it!
I'm fed up!

I am enough just the way I am!
I am enough no matter what you think!
I am enough because I'm me!

So please, stop calling us "FAT", we know and we see us even bigger than you see us.
Just stop.
We are nice and friendly, just give us a chance!

If you are FAT, they judge you.
If you are SKINNY, they judge you.
If you are PRETTY, they judge you.
If you are UGLY, they judge you.
If you LIVE, they judge you.
If you DIE, "***, they were such a good person. I miss them so much!"



RIP

1 word can change everything
2 wrongs don't make a right, it doesn't make anything right
3 words can change a relationship "I love you"
4 people can change the world
5 truths can make a DIFFERENCE

F
Fa
Fad
Fade
Faded

M
Me
Mem
Memo
Memor
Memori
Memorie
Memories
­
Sometimes, it just becomes too much!

F
Fa
Fad
Fade
Faded

M
Me
Mem
Memo
Memor
Memori
Memorie
Me­mories

Sometimes, it just haunts me!

F
Fa
Fad
Fade
Faded

M
Me
Mem
Memo
Memor
Memori
Memorie
Memo­ries

Sometimes, I can't escape!

F
Fa
Fad
Fade
Faded

M
Me
Mem
Memo
Memor
Memori
Memorie
­Memories

Sometimes, it hurts more than it should!

All the memories have seemed to fade, but always find its way back!

These memories don't really ever go away, they just linger.

They think that they're welcome.

They don't have a permanent home.

They shadow my every move!

Faded memories aren't very faded anymore...

Hey, My name's Destiny!
I'm a ****** up MASTERPIECE!
You know what though?
That's okay!
It's okay to feel like you're ****** up!
I can promise you though that I'm a masterpiece.
Do you know what it means to be a masterpiece?
It means that I am priceless!
I am a warrior!
A lion!
A Goddess!
I've been through ****** up stuff, but I made a masterpiece from it all!
A MASTERPIECE!

I'm just me!

Wish 1: I wish I looked perfect in society's eyes.

(I mean, I look fine but the pressure I feel every step I take anywhere makes me feel like ****!)

Wish 2: I wish I could stop worrying.

(Worrying doesn't help and at this point I'm worrying about worrying!)

Wish 3: I wish I wasn't me.

(This doesn't need any explanation.)

Let's go away.
To a place of peace.
To a safe place.
A place where there is no evil.
Where there is no fear.
Let's go.
Now!

We never went.
It got too late.
You backed out.
You were scared, which is why we were going.
You disappeared.
I have to go.
Now!

I stayed.
To visit you.
To share my love with you.
To hold your hand.
Let's go.
We can still go.
Now!

We went.
Both of us.
You left before me when you jumped.
I came to where you are when I swallowed them all.
We are together.
Now!

Hey mom, you are TOXIC.
Hey mom, you are EVIL.
Hey mom, you are BITTER.
Hey mom, you are SAD.
Hey mom, you are ANGRY.
Hey mom, you are GUILTY.
Hey mom, I FORGIVE YOU.

It still hurts though!

Hi, it's me again.
It's your daughter.
I know you are in Heaven, but do you remember me?
Do you remember when you would sing to me without mom knowing?
Do you remember that last time I told you I loved you?
Do you remember THAT day?
The day that it all changed?
The day that I was pulled off you?
I miss you.
I really miss you.
I need one of your hugs!
I need you.
Sincerely, Your Daughter

Honestly, I'm not really sure what I'm feeling.
Anger.
Sadness.
Betrayal.
Shame.
Guilt.
Confused.
Numb.

That last one is weird. Feeling numb is like feeling so many emotions all at once, you're not sure what to feel.
Every time I need a friend to talk to they are too busy for me.
They're hanging out having the time of their lives with other friends or even better, they're drunk.
Sometimes I feel like people are too nice to me.
It's like they're super sorry for me.
I don't want people to feel sorry for me anymore.
It made me feel too comfortable and I don't want to constantly feel sorry for myself.
I'm too nice to people.
People that take my kindness and use it against me.
I've felt like I've been the problem all my life.
I am not the problem, but I still feel the pain.
I'm better than this.
I'm stronger than this.
It just hurts so much!
Sometimes I look in the mirror and I feel like I'm looking at a stranger.
I feel like I'm staring at the very definition of a dissapointment.
I don't know where I went.
I disappeared.
I'm getting so much better.
I don't want to go back!
I know that those who really love me will support me.
I feel so jealous sometimes.
Why can't I have some of the things others get so easily?
My brother and I just can't ever catch a break.
It's always something.
Sometimes I want to not feel the pain.
Sometimes I think about getting drunk so I can feel at ease just for a little while.
But I can't because I could easily become and alcoholic like my dad.
Sometimes I want to do the worst drugs so that I can "feel" okay, just for a little while.
But I can't because I could easily become an addict like my mom.
I love college!
I will continue to stay motivated and not let this pull me back into the darkness.
I want to stay happy and close to those who really care.
My heart is hurting.
I've been thrown to the wolves for my weakness'
Being ***** by my older brother and being told tonight that I "wanted" it.
That I "asked" for it.
I'm just in so much pain!
Will it ever end on it's own?
Everyone seems so ******* perfect!
Even though I know they are not.
I want to stop feeling so alone.
I want to seem perfect in other people's eyes.
I'm always the one who ******* up!
I'm always the problem!
I'm the weak one!
Mental illness *****!
Having major depressive disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, PTSD, and the newest diagnosis of bipolar all *****!
In a perfect world, only those who really love and support me would exist.
That would put me out of the world though because I hate myself more than anyone.
I've so much more progress in my life than anyone in my family.

It's been a couple nights sense my hatred and anger felt threatening.
I was asked if I was homicidal.
I said only slightly passive thoughts.
I could never hurt someone but the thoughts made me feel like I was an inch away from committing ******.

Expectations.
Standards.
Rules.
Conditions and Catches.

Listen up Eating Disorders!

Your expectations are contradictory! You want girls to feel so ashamed of their bodies that they starve and shove their fingers down their throat so that they'll live to be happy. You know better than anyone though that really, you just want us laying in our deathbeds.

Your standards are stupid! You think you can put each individual girl into one category. A category that is labeled "so-skinny-each-individual-bone-pops-out-with-no-effort."

Your rules are torture! Rule 1: Exercise until you pass out. Rule 2: Start off "in reason" with restriction. Rule 3: Cut out all processed foods. Rule 4: "You like what you see?" Keep going! Rule 5: Why not cut out all food? Rule 6: Develop fear foods. Rule 7: Eat everything because you're so hungry your insides are burning. Rule 8: Oh no! You can't gain weight! Go shove your fingers down your throat! You must get rid of the food! Rule 9: Restrict again because you can't see anything but a monster when you look into the mirror. Rule 10: Speaking of mirrors, do at least 3 body checks a day. How big is your waist? Can you wrap your fingers around your wrists? Do you have a thigh gap? Rule 11: Cry for hours because you "accidentally" looked at the scale for the 20th time today. Rule 12: Start over and repeat until you end up in the hospital. "You'll never be sick enough though!"

Your conditions and catches confuse us! You have these conditions, but there's always a catch! "You can have that one candy bar, but you must lose 13 pounds this month!" "You will be happy when you reach your goal weight, but you should set a second and third goal weight just in case!" "You will have so many friends when you're actually underweight, but you must lose all the ones you love now first!" "You can get help, but it'll make you feel worse because then you'll see that you're weak!"

ENOUGH!

I'VE HAD ENOUGH!

What do you want from me?
Why am I not good enough now?
Why do I have to wear a size 00?
When will you stop killing all these sweet girls who just want to love themselves?
When will we stop hearing you yell at us because we want to go out to eat with our family and friends?
Why can't you stop casting all your imperfections on all these perfectly imperfect girls?
Why do you feel like you're not enough?

                                           Sincerely, We-Are-Enough

I'm enough.
I'm enough at any size!
Yes I'm obese.
Yes I want to be smaller, but I have to do it healthily and without the guidance of "Ana" or "Mia" or "Ed!"
Ana, Mia, and Ed will only tell you lies.
Lies that will tear you apart!
You must listen to those around you who want to help you!
I know it's hard, but it's worth it.
Happiness is real and possible, but these eating disorders don't know what happiness is!
You are enough!
You are perfect at every size!
You are so much stronger than this illness!
You are not weak for eating a granola in fact, you're not weak for eating a pint of ice cream!
It'll all fall into place.
This illness will not take you!
I promise, you are enough!

I was 15.
I was a freshman in high school.
I had just moved to a new school for the last 6 weeks.
I had just moved in with my adoptive family.
I was very vulnerable.
I was quiet.
I was scared.
I was a joke to everyone.
I was a disappointment.

Some context would be nice I'm sure.

I was *****.
I was in pain mentally and physically.
I was terrified of people.
I was taken advantage of because I was a ******.
I was once clean.
I felt *****.
I felt numb for the most part.
I was called a liar.
I was just a kid.

The worst part was that it was family.

I was the sister.
I was misunderstood.
I was confused.
I was ashamed of myself.
I thought it was the end for me.
I wanted to know what death felt like.
I tied things around my neck.
I swallowed hand fulls.
I was one wrong move from actually jumping.

Nothing I did made me happy anymore.

I went to a hospital.
I went to another hospital.
I went again.
I went a fourth time.
I went a fifth time.
I went a sixth time.
I went a seventh time.
I went an eighth time.
I'm sure you get the pattern.

It all literally made me a waste of space because I was a zombie.

Medication.
Sleep.
Hatred.
Anger.
Sadness.
Fear.
Disappo­intment.
Shame.
Confusion.

You name it and I felt it.

I didn't think that things would ever get better.
I didn't love myself.
I cared way too much about the number on the scale.
I starved myself.
I made my throat a new home for my fingers.
I sliced my skin.
I gave myself bruises.
I banged my head against the wall.
I tortured myself daily.

It never crossed my mind that I was hurting those I love.

I felt like the world was crumbling at my feet.
I felt alone.
I thought my life was in slow motion.
I stopped smiling.
I couldn't hear the birds sing.
I always just saw gray.
I couldn't smell the rain.
I didn't want anyone to be happy.
I wanted everyone to feel what I was feeling.

The journey was long, but worth it.

I'm living life.
I see that my body is imperfectly imperfect.
I don't focus on my flaws anymore.
I got rid of the scale.
I learned to love.
I'm in college.
I'm living in my own place.
I have support.
I am enough.

The road is so very long, but not everlasting.

You'll get through this!
You'll find who you are!
You'll learn to love yourself!
You'll enjoy life!
You'll impact others who need you!
You'll find the love of your life!
You'll find where you belong in this world!
You'll grow through what you go through!
You'll make it, I promise!

I am a survivor!
You are a survivor!

It's so difficult to go through the motions of life knowing that I'm a stereotype...
It's so difficult to have dreams of becoming "something" and then have them crushed...
It's so difficult to wake up daily terrified of making the smallest mistakes...
It's so difficult to be alive in this generation.

I want to be known for things other than being a foster kid once to becoming adopted to being chronically depressed to intentionally and unintentionally suicidal to being anxious everywhere. IN MY MIND.
I want to being an artist or a therapist or a musician.
I want my brain to know that it's okay to make mistakes.
I want to thrive in this generation.

Once upon a time, I hated myself...because I wasn't normal
Once upon a time, I starved myself...because I thought the number on the scale mattered more than getting energy to live.
Once upon a time, I use my body as a canvas of hate...because I felt like I deserved real pain.
Once upon a time, I really thought the world would be better without me...because I didn't like myself and I thought everyone else hated me just as much as I did.
Once upon a time, I lied...to protect those who were supposed to protect me.
Once upon a time, I was a victim to ****** abuse and never told a soul until I was given an ultimatum...because I thought I was going to be killed if I said something.
Once upon a time, I thought my life was normal...until I was shown what love was.

Telling my story over and over again never makes me feel awful...It usually means that I'm impacting someones life. I've always thought very low of myself until someone showed me what It was like to be a normal person. If I have to tell my story 100,000 more times before I die, I'll do it because I know that it changes lives.

I never actually thought that I would be in college...NEVER! I felt unworthy to follow my dreams. I felt discouraged by my own thoughts. I never thought that I would be an Aggie for Christ...but here I am after dreaming about being like the Aggies I met living at a children's home for over a year! I can testify! I can changes lives daily...I just have to make my brain calm down.

I'm not perfect: no one is, but I can say that I am a walking testimony of God's Wonderful and Merciful plans!!!

Age regression?
Confusion?
Creep?

These three words follow me inevitably everywhere. My mind was forced to develop much more rapidly than most my age. Somewhere though, my mentality as I'm walking down the Barbie isle got stuck. Stuck at the age of 11 or 12. I get euphoric when I see the children's toys. I wish that I could just have them all! I remember this one time when I would strategically limit how much money I would spend on Barbies. It was kinda ridiculous how much thought I put into picking and choosing which one I was going to get. Ugh...the memories. My niece is 10 now and she loves when I go to the store with her! I'm usually the one to volunteer to go browse the toy isles, It brought me so much joy and I get self conscious sometimes. People just don't understand!!! My mind gets stuck at the ages of 11 and 12 all the time...just stuck.

Anyways, the proper term for this is in fact called age regression. It's when your mind regresses into an age that makes you feel safe.

I'm not confused!

I'm not a creep!

I'm just a traumatized young adult.

This world is cruel, but please keep your head up!!!

I don't think that there's a day that goes by that I'm not told to try. Everyday someone that crosses my path, tells me to try.
"Try to smile."
"Try to laugh."
"Try to be optimistic."
"Try to love harder."
"Just try..."

One of the hardest "tries" is to live. To continue to live in a world that is so filled with hate, judgement, evil standards, confusion, and too many expectations.

I'm not even attempting to exaggerate when I say that my mind is so clouded with the mental pollution that the world shoves into it. A daily battle that is not something to joke about. A biohazardous waste land just waiting for the right amount of "hazard."

I have "tried" to feel like I have purpose here.
{Good news; I have a huge purpose!}

I have "tried" to make everyone happy.
{I've learned that it's impossible and I need to make myself happy for a change}

I have "tried" to live.
{I'm living; finally!}

I am "trying."

O-ut
L-ived
D-esire

Ever since I was a little girl, I never called anyone old.
I referred to older people as elderly.
One day, out of nowhere I decided that a person is "old" when they reach the age of 70.
My grandmother, who I call nana turned 70 last year.
Now I am morally allowed to call her old in my mind.
She thinks it's hilarious and she loved her mockery of a cake!

All jokes aside though, being "old" scares me. As I'm sure it scares many. To me "old" means; out lived desire. The desire to live becomes almost invisible; non existent. My mother is fighting two battles. Mental and physical. The mental aspect of her brain is fueled by her children's emotions and her physical pain. She is constantly worrying about her children and if they are okay mentally and physically. She has had her share of mistakes but she will always be my momma. Her physical battle consumes her whole body. Pain 24/7 with little to no relief. She is a strong women but because of her mental battle all her life, her body is that of an older woman. Medicine only goes so far and sometimes it feels like my prayers hit the ceiling and fall. My mom is not "old" but sometimes I feel like she "out lived desire." She continues to fight these two battles with a smile on her face [most days.]

Today you are 18,036 days old, but today, you are stronger, braver, and wiser than when you were 18,035 days old!!!

1...
1...2...
1...2...3...
Stop. Breathe!
1...
1...2...
1...2...3...
DESTINY! BREATHE! IT'S OKAY, YOU'RE SAFE!

I relive that very session pretty frequently. My therapist was absolutely amazing and I'm so glad she knew how to get me out of that moment. I can't really express how it felt other than feeling paralyzed, but not actually being paralyzed. PTSD is what is was and it was terrifying. Actually it was beyond terrifying. I didn't want to leave her office. I didn't want to walk to my ride. I didn't want to do anything. It shocked my whole family because they were confused as to why I was all of a sudden afraid to be alone. That's where the anxiety really started to become major anxiety. That's when I actually had to spend a whole day in the ER because my chest was hurting so badly, I thought I was dying. It was there I was told it was just a bruised sternum. Now I know so much more about my surroundings and how to find the inner me where I don't really experience that level of terror anymore, which is great.

Psychologists are amazing if you are willing to stick it out and find the right one.

I'm starting college soon and I actually want to be a Psychologist because of all the trauma in my life.

Thanks to all those who support mental illness's and I hope that the stigmas will change.

Okay.
I love my family, but they are the most toxic people in my life.
I love being happy, but being happy only means that bad things are to come.
I love my smile, but that's the only thing I like about my appearance.
I love having friends, but that only means I have to socialize and show my body in public and how awkward I am.

Okay.
Now that I have you all intrigued at the fact that I am trying to impress myself within society, here's the real deal...

I do love my family and they are toxic, but what does that mean?
That means that even though I wish to escape the abuse, I have to stick around because of my attachment issues that come with having severe anxiety when I can't make them all happy...it simply means I'm trapped.

I do love being happy and it is true that it means bad things will come. I'm also really terrified of being happy though because all my life it's been confusion and chaos that I've gotten comfortable with. Hospital stays, suicide attempts, medication changes, and staying in bed until I was sore!

I do love my smile and it is the only thing I like about my appearance. Hmm...why? " You are so beautiful just the way you are!" "God made you how he needs you." Look, I get it, I shouldn't worry about what I look like but how can I help it when everywhere I look I see "perfect?"
At first, I didn't eat for one meal, then two, then a whole day, and then 36 hours. It slowly turned into me eating "normally" and then getting rid of it by shoving ******* down my throat hoping my gag reflex would wake up...now I gag just swallowing food. I don't get rid of the food anymore, I'm getting help and realizing that food is not bad. I'm trying to accept myself for me...not for anyone else.

I love my friends...I really do, but society scares me into thinking that my friends don't love me. Social anxiety is something that I'm actually not diagnosed with but I should be. I mean when I have to take a tangle into the grocery store just to get milk and I skip plans with friends because I'm afraid of getting hurt by other people...I think I have social anxiety along with generalized anxiety where I'm scared and worried about everything!

a suicidal soul.
a lost soul.
a hopeless soul.
a dumb soul.
a useless soul.
a forgotten soul.
why would heaven want this soul?