(Note: this does not include everything "traumatic" that's happened to me, partially because I'm not done living.)
My name is Sam. First off I'd like to say that my life is not only sadness and what is contained in the following text. I also have many loves. Those are my dreams (writing and directing movies) my friends, family, books, music, and Kyle. That being said, I'll continue with my thoughts.
Last October I started skipping meals, but the end of November I went 3 (nearly 4) days straight without eating a single thing. These behaviors continued until late December. I lost 20 pounds in those weeks , but in my eye I was still gigantic. In the eyes tinted with an eating disorder, you will always look fat. People don't realize how strong a disorder can be until they get one.
What happened next has often been described by my boyfriend (Kyle) as a miracle. I woke up from my nightmare, it was only for a few weeks. But I saw a glimpse of a persons life without an eating disorder. This glimpse was all thanks to my religion- buddhism.
But slowly I've started creeping my way back to old habits. I started puking the little food I would eat. And every single calorie that I put into my body was counted, and screamed at me by a little voice in my head.
Feeding the little voice with my insecurities is what led to my climax.
I was diagnosed with bipolar in 6th grade. My mother took me to 3 other psychiatrists who had the same results, and then I never went back again. (she doesn't like to admit it, and since then I've never admitted to these dark feelings to her).
Being bipolar sucks. Even when you're in the extremely happy part of being bipolar you know it's fake, and it's not even real happiness. It's just being crazy hyper. You also know that the agony of the depression will be coming soon.
The depression is unbearable. No matter how many people actually do care about you, you have a little voice telling you that it's all lies. That everything happy in your life is a lie. You know the voice is deceiving you, but that doesn't stop it from screaming.
Listening to the little voice is what led to my climax.
I haven't cut since December. And I'm unbelievably proud of that. But there is no denying how bad it had gotten. I cut a lot last year, but I stopped for several months. And when I started again in late November (my first day back into the addiction) I made 49 incisions onto my thigh spelling the words "Am I pretty yet"
Now I have well over 100 scars on various parts of my body.
Taking actions because of what the little voice said led me to my climax.
A few nights ago I attempted suicide again.
Why recovery is worth it:
Recovery is the hardest thing I've ever gone through. Not listening to the little voice that has run my life- it's not easy. You have to fight unbelievably hard, and keep fighting for almost the rest of your life. And if you get tired of fighting? Nights like my climax happen.
You have to keep fighting, and remain strong. And if you need to borrow strength- get it from things that make you happy.
I know this story is choppy, and not well written. But I felt like I needed to document it in some way. It's also a sort of apology for not being online as often as I should be. If you ever need to talk, I'm always here for you.
Tagging the people I should probably respond to more often:
((Also in the self mutilation section I mentioned my "Am I pretty yet" here's a picture a few hours after it happened http://www.polyvore.com/tumblr/thing?id=70861618 )