Dear 12 Year Old Me,
You are standing in the line at the grocery store next to the studio. You don’t really know why you’re there and you’re worried that you will be late to dance class. You have one item, and it seems really important to buy. When you pay for that package of laxatives you don’t realize that you’ve started what is going to become the hardest fight of your life.
You hate who you are. Hate, perhaps, isn’t quite the right word. Hate implies too much action; it takes energy to hate, and you don’t feel that you deserve even that. You feel that you should just disappear, and rid the world of yourself. You reason the world would be a better place without you. You are a straight A student, taking advanced courses in middle school and excelling in dance classes; you’ve known what you wanted to do since you were 4 years old (oncologist) and you are determined to achieve it, and all you can think of is whether or not the number on the scale is up or down.
Soon you become sick of the laxatives, they make you cramp and feel nauseous, and you discover that throwing up really gets rid of everything faster. By 13 you are purging everything you eat, restricting everyday to under 200 calories and binging once every few weeks. You are consumed with this feeling that you don’t deserve anything that you have. That you deserve to be in pain; that you're life and your body are in gross excess, you can barely look in the mirror without your stomach churning in revulsion; you do endless calisthenics in your room at night and you beat your stomach as it cries out in hunger, and it all seems like the right thing to do; you need to disappear.
But what you can’t see is that you are crying as you write this. You would never have thought that 8 years from now you would be sitting in your room, writing this letter and crying your eyes out because you can’t stop this cycle of hatred. You can’t see the damage you’re doing to your body. How you can’t even eat now without feeling ill. How your hair is falling out. How your skin is always a mess. How your period is irregular and disappears for months at a time. How your heart beat is irregular due to electrolyte imbalances from purging.
You don’t realize that your life will become one long succession of getting on the scale and off the scale. You can’t see that, even as your twentieth birthday looms, you will still be that 12 year old girl, sad and desperate to feel beautiful and accomplished, though you’ve graduated high school a year early, worked in a biochemistry lab for almost 3 years and won a national scholarship in your field, all before the age of 20.
But now, you will choose to change. It’s not a question of want to; though sometimes you do want to be rid of your eating disorder, other times it is easier to just curl up with it. But you can’t do it anymore. You can’t fight this losing battle with your body. You are only going to lose either way. No matter how thin you get, you can’t fix an inner problem with outward appearances.
These feelings of inadequacy are not based on size. This eating disorder is not about a number. It’s about shutting out feelings that you can’t deal with. It’s about making the miserable pain you feel inside more manageable. But it doesn’t make it more manageable; you are slowly killing yourself and you can’t go on like this anymore.
You may not always love your body. But you are going to try. You are not going to fight it anymore. Even as you write this, you’ve been in outpatient treatment for two months, seeing a therapist, nutritionist and psychiatrist. And they want you to go to an inpatient clinic. You see, that’s how serious things will become! And you will probably do it. Because you’ve come to your wit's end and you’ve lost the control that you were trying so hard to gain, to no avail, with your eating disorder. You're weight's been all over the place and you've never been happy, you've never felt beautiful, the key word is felt: you've always been beautiful!
You only get one body. This life is all you have. You’re all about being accomplished and successful. And though being perfect is not what life is about, if that’s what you want, then stop focusing on killing yourself and start LIVING! It’s not a life, what you’ve been doing for the past 8 years. You’re going to start graduate school in a year and a half; enjoy this time. Embrace life with the fervor that you embraced your eating disorder. And leave this disease behind you, so you can be a productive member of society, and, above all, happy. Think about whether this eating disorder has made you fundamentally a happier person. I think you’ll find the answer is painfully obvious. You deserve better. You deserve to live and be loved. You won’t always believe it, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less true. You are beautiful inside and out.
Love,
K
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Age 15
I look in the mirror, but who I see isn’t me.
Where am I?
Hiding beneath the self that I see.
Far away, trying to find me.
Where did I go?
The question stands still.
The tear that I see on that self before me, glitters and shines.
Could it be that I finally found myself.
Where am I?
Hiding beneath the self that I see.
Far away, trying to find me.
Where did I go?
The question stands still.
The tear that I see on that self before me, glitters and shines.
Could it be that I finally found myself.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Age 32
Dearest Body,
We have had a love/hate relationship over the years. I must admit to it being more hate than love at times, and I don't know whose fault that is. I used to blame you and me (the body and the spirit), but I also blame society. When I was a little girl I didn't think about you - you just were. I lived in my body and I never thought you would be anything other than beautiful because I felt like a beautiful person. At some point people started telling me that you weren't beautiful. Since me and you are really two halves of the same coin, that hurt a lot. They always said you were too fat, even when you probably weren't. They were so cruel to us. They beat us up in school, they teased and shouted and threw things and made us feel like nothing. And the worst part is that we believed them. Deep down, we knew we were not ugly, deep down we knew that we were brilliant, in fact. The person in the body felt like the body was a prison, and that God, if there was one, was a cruel god for trapping such a loving spirit in an unlovable body. Those feelings may not be right now, but they were part of growing up.
Because I was told these terrible things over and over, I started to believe them. I tried to punish you, body, for making me feel this way - for being the reason I was treated as a sub-human. I starved you. I was glad to feel hunger pangs because it was a punishment on you for the suffering you inflicted on me. But it didn't help. I still wasn't skinny. I was skinnier but not skinny enough for the world. I saw only my fatness; I saw only the flaws, because that is what everyone else saw. Every bully in school reinforced these thoughts, and I am sure they did so gladly. I didn't see the beautifully small nose or the eyes the color of the sea. I didn't see the gorgeous breasts or muscular and shapely legs. I saw only a stomach that wasn't flat enough and arms that sagged at the top.
I tried to love you when I went to college. I dyed my hair funny colors to distract people from my extra curves. I tattooed you and pierced you in order to make you my canvas - a living work of art on which I could let some beauty shine through. And I dieted, of course. I kept you from eating meat, but you grew bigger. I restricted everything, and yet, no luck...you just wouldn't shrink. I began to resign myself a little to the thought that you might not ever be small. I learned how to buy clothes that looked better on you. I dressed sexy, despite my size. I learned to let the girl within come out - the bon vivant, the fun girl, the girl I had always wanted to be (had always been) but had hidden. And I had friends, for the first time. Lots of them. But body, I never did love you. We had a truce. That was all. We stopped fighting so much and tried to accept each other.
Later on, other people decided that they loved you, though I never really believed them. I'm still not sure I do, although I have a husband who thinks you are ravishingly sexy, no matter what you have on. I still have my doubts. Sometimes I wonder how anyone can think you are even remotely attractive! Sometimes I wonder why men flirt with me, or are not embarrassed to be with me, because of you. Of course I am thinking only of a little fat, and not of the brilliant girl with the vibrant spirit that lives in that body.
You did do some good things for me, body, or at least WE did them, when we were cooperating. We learned how to run long distances, and we enjoy doing that frequently. When we are running, you usually surprise me with your endurance and speed, and I feel more at ease with you when I can put you to the test do something that demands toughness. You've always been muscular and strong, so I've been able to lift things that other girls can't. I like that, because you make me feel capable.
You also made me sick, as you have an illness that can't be cured. Thanks a LOT for that, though I suppose genetics gave it to you, so I should be thanking my parents first. But the illness has changed my life. You can't process a lot of foods, and now that I know, I have to eat a very different diet than most. That really bites the big one, because food is no longer a source of pleasure for me. As sad as it is, I have been pleased that my new diet has shrunk you. You are finally slimming down, and I am maybe getting my wish, at a high price. Maybe someday I can really come to terms with you. Maybe I can love you for real, or truly be proud of us both. Maybe. Someday. I guess we'll see.
We have had a love/hate relationship over the years. I must admit to it being more hate than love at times, and I don't know whose fault that is. I used to blame you and me (the body and the spirit), but I also blame society. When I was a little girl I didn't think about you - you just were. I lived in my body and I never thought you would be anything other than beautiful because I felt like a beautiful person. At some point people started telling me that you weren't beautiful. Since me and you are really two halves of the same coin, that hurt a lot. They always said you were too fat, even when you probably weren't. They were so cruel to us. They beat us up in school, they teased and shouted and threw things and made us feel like nothing. And the worst part is that we believed them. Deep down, we knew we were not ugly, deep down we knew that we were brilliant, in fact. The person in the body felt like the body was a prison, and that God, if there was one, was a cruel god for trapping such a loving spirit in an unlovable body. Those feelings may not be right now, but they were part of growing up.
Because I was told these terrible things over and over, I started to believe them. I tried to punish you, body, for making me feel this way - for being the reason I was treated as a sub-human. I starved you. I was glad to feel hunger pangs because it was a punishment on you for the suffering you inflicted on me. But it didn't help. I still wasn't skinny. I was skinnier but not skinny enough for the world. I saw only my fatness; I saw only the flaws, because that is what everyone else saw. Every bully in school reinforced these thoughts, and I am sure they did so gladly. I didn't see the beautifully small nose or the eyes the color of the sea. I didn't see the gorgeous breasts or muscular and shapely legs. I saw only a stomach that wasn't flat enough and arms that sagged at the top.
I tried to love you when I went to college. I dyed my hair funny colors to distract people from my extra curves. I tattooed you and pierced you in order to make you my canvas - a living work of art on which I could let some beauty shine through. And I dieted, of course. I kept you from eating meat, but you grew bigger. I restricted everything, and yet, no luck...you just wouldn't shrink. I began to resign myself a little to the thought that you might not ever be small. I learned how to buy clothes that looked better on you. I dressed sexy, despite my size. I learned to let the girl within come out - the bon vivant, the fun girl, the girl I had always wanted to be (had always been) but had hidden. And I had friends, for the first time. Lots of them. But body, I never did love you. We had a truce. That was all. We stopped fighting so much and tried to accept each other.
Later on, other people decided that they loved you, though I never really believed them. I'm still not sure I do, although I have a husband who thinks you are ravishingly sexy, no matter what you have on. I still have my doubts. Sometimes I wonder how anyone can think you are even remotely attractive! Sometimes I wonder why men flirt with me, or are not embarrassed to be with me, because of you. Of course I am thinking only of a little fat, and not of the brilliant girl with the vibrant spirit that lives in that body.
You did do some good things for me, body, or at least WE did them, when we were cooperating. We learned how to run long distances, and we enjoy doing that frequently. When we are running, you usually surprise me with your endurance and speed, and I feel more at ease with you when I can put you to the test do something that demands toughness. You've always been muscular and strong, so I've been able to lift things that other girls can't. I like that, because you make me feel capable.
You also made me sick, as you have an illness that can't be cured. Thanks a LOT for that, though I suppose genetics gave it to you, so I should be thanking my parents first. But the illness has changed my life. You can't process a lot of foods, and now that I know, I have to eat a very different diet than most. That really bites the big one, because food is no longer a source of pleasure for me. As sad as it is, I have been pleased that my new diet has shrunk you. You are finally slimming down, and I am maybe getting my wish, at a high price. Maybe someday I can really come to terms with you. Maybe I can love you for real, or truly be proud of us both. Maybe. Someday. I guess we'll see.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Age 19
When I look in the mirror at age 19, I don't see an insecure girl anymore...I see a confident woman who is in almost every way sure of herself. I don't see society's standard of "beauty" - I see ME. Even though society tells me that all my "imperfections" should make me self conscious, I don't see my curves, small breasts, scars, un-dyed hair, tummy, freckled face as "imperfections"....I see them as blessings. These "imperfections" are what make me unique. As I look in the mirror, I KNOW that I don't need to rate myself according to society's standards of "beauty"...what is "beauty" anyway? YOU decide. I did, and it was the best decision I ever made.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Age 19
I looked in the mirror two years ago and didn't recognize the girl on the other side. I did everything I could to make that girl go away, yet the more I tried, the more I seemed to be greeted with failure.
Today, I look in the mirror and see a girl who has overcome struggle. This girl knows why she is here and will to whatever it takes to help each and every girl who lives on the other side of the glass.
I will be kind to myself, I will listen to myself and I will believe in myself.
Today, I look in the mirror and see a girl who has overcome struggle. This girl knows why she is here and will to whatever it takes to help each and every girl who lives on the other side of the glass.
I will be kind to myself, I will listen to myself and I will believe in myself.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Age 17
Dear Body,
What I see when I look at you in the mirror varies greatly. Most days negativity overpowers any morsel of acceptance that I have for you. I see fat some days, while others I am able to decipher the slightest hint of beauty - a healthy body that has come a long way from its days wasted on an eating disorder. But ultimately the image that I see every time I look at you in the mirror is an image that is not good enough.
My eyes have grown to become critical, enabling you to be subjected to unwarranted scrutiny. It is as though you are modeling clay. Perhaps with these negative thoughts I will begin to transform you into a body that is good enough. A so-called perfect body. My legs will become impossibly long and lean, my slightly convex stomach flat as a board and oh, what the heck, I will grow a few inches and then make my boobs a bit bigger.
Whose body is this? It is not you and will never be. The sad part is, this description resembles a mannequin - an image that I feel has been shoved down my throat leaving me to wonder why am I not the same. When it comes down to it, you are my home. You should be respected and recognized for your amazing existence. Body, I know that an apology is in order. I am sorry for abusing, belittling and loathing you.
With that, I acknowledge that today is a new day; it is a day to break free of all body negativities that berate me. Lets face it, if I don’t come to terms with my body sooner than later, when will I?
What I see when I look at you in the mirror varies greatly. Most days negativity overpowers any morsel of acceptance that I have for you. I see fat some days, while others I am able to decipher the slightest hint of beauty - a healthy body that has come a long way from its days wasted on an eating disorder. But ultimately the image that I see every time I look at you in the mirror is an image that is not good enough.
My eyes have grown to become critical, enabling you to be subjected to unwarranted scrutiny. It is as though you are modeling clay. Perhaps with these negative thoughts I will begin to transform you into a body that is good enough. A so-called perfect body. My legs will become impossibly long and lean, my slightly convex stomach flat as a board and oh, what the heck, I will grow a few inches and then make my boobs a bit bigger.
Whose body is this? It is not you and will never be. The sad part is, this description resembles a mannequin - an image that I feel has been shoved down my throat leaving me to wonder why am I not the same. When it comes down to it, you are my home. You should be respected and recognized for your amazing existence. Body, I know that an apology is in order. I am sorry for abusing, belittling and loathing you.
With that, I acknowledge that today is a new day; it is a day to break free of all body negativities that berate me. Lets face it, if I don’t come to terms with my body sooner than later, when will I?
Monday, July 26, 2010
Age 25
Dear Body,
I must admit I have a love/hate relationship with you. When I was in elementary school, I hated being the tallest in my class. Yet when I was in high school and I was stuck playing point guard instead of center, I hated that too. I hated how quickly my womanly hips showed up after I stopped playing college soccer, and how quickly those curves turned to apathy and disregard toward my wish to take care of myself as I had known how to my whole life. I didn’t even want to step on a scale or look in the mirror.
When I ended college as a size 12, I hated myself. But I missed the physical pain I could put my body through via exercise and the subsequent pride I felt upon completing a challenge. I put on the cleats again, as well as the running shoes. Now, a year later, I am proud of my physical fitness, my ability to run 10 miles and play soccer with ease. I like how my legs look, how my arms have toned and my ass. Yes, my ass looks great. I look at myself naked after exercise or a shower and think, “Damn, I look good.”
Yet, somehow, even though I love my commitment to physical fitness and the joy of the addiction to my runner’s high, I am a bit afraid. I am afraid that this might go overboard. You see, a year later I managed to fit comfortably into a size 2. I’ve never been that skinny, even in my prime days as a three-sport high school athlete and a college athlete. Am I just exceeding what I thought my body could do or abusing it in a way that I just now am developing a mild consciousness of doing so?
I love how I look right now. Love it, love it and want to flaunt it. But I still hate the possibility that it is not the best way for this to be done.
Love and hate,
The inhibitor of you, Body
I must admit I have a love/hate relationship with you. When I was in elementary school, I hated being the tallest in my class. Yet when I was in high school and I was stuck playing point guard instead of center, I hated that too. I hated how quickly my womanly hips showed up after I stopped playing college soccer, and how quickly those curves turned to apathy and disregard toward my wish to take care of myself as I had known how to my whole life. I didn’t even want to step on a scale or look in the mirror.
When I ended college as a size 12, I hated myself. But I missed the physical pain I could put my body through via exercise and the subsequent pride I felt upon completing a challenge. I put on the cleats again, as well as the running shoes. Now, a year later, I am proud of my physical fitness, my ability to run 10 miles and play soccer with ease. I like how my legs look, how my arms have toned and my ass. Yes, my ass looks great. I look at myself naked after exercise or a shower and think, “Damn, I look good.”
Yet, somehow, even though I love my commitment to physical fitness and the joy of the addiction to my runner’s high, I am a bit afraid. I am afraid that this might go overboard. You see, a year later I managed to fit comfortably into a size 2. I’ve never been that skinny, even in my prime days as a three-sport high school athlete and a college athlete. Am I just exceeding what I thought my body could do or abusing it in a way that I just now am developing a mild consciousness of doing so?
I love how I look right now. Love it, love it and want to flaunt it. But I still hate the possibility that it is not the best way for this to be done.
Love and hate,
The inhibitor of you, Body
Friday, July 23, 2010
Age 20
When I look in the mirror, fully clothed, I think I might look beautiful. I dress well, have nice makeup, blonde hair. I'm thin, but not too thin and have curves in all the right places. But if I take those clothes off and stand in front of the mirror, I'm horrified at what I've done to myself.
After 6 years, I've cut, burned, sliced or stabbed every area on my body that looks so well when fully clothed. The skin on my bare arms, chest, breasts, stomach, hips and thighs is no longer a creamy, smooth, white surface. Instead, it's puckered, bumpy, discolored and ugly. My constant need to hide these self-inflicted imperfections has brought on the paranoia of being found out, the pain of rejection when I am found out, the need to leave early due to panic, the addiction of archaic blood-letting and the fatigue of anemia.
I'm angry with myself and with my naked body. But the thing that angers me the most is that I have suffered no heartbreak, loss, physical ailments or family trouble. If I had, then I would have something to blame. But because I have been blessed with what many would call a perfect life, the blame is mine.
How pathetic.
After 6 years, I've cut, burned, sliced or stabbed every area on my body that looks so well when fully clothed. The skin on my bare arms, chest, breasts, stomach, hips and thighs is no longer a creamy, smooth, white surface. Instead, it's puckered, bumpy, discolored and ugly. My constant need to hide these self-inflicted imperfections has brought on the paranoia of being found out, the pain of rejection when I am found out, the need to leave early due to panic, the addiction of archaic blood-letting and the fatigue of anemia.
I'm angry with myself and with my naked body. But the thing that angers me the most is that I have suffered no heartbreak, loss, physical ailments or family trouble. If I had, then I would have something to blame. But because I have been blessed with what many would call a perfect life, the blame is mine.
How pathetic.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Age 17
Dear Eating Disorder,
I’m writing to say how much I hate you and how much I want you out of my life.
I hate the way that you make me feel and I hate the control you have over me. You make me feel like such a failure. You make me feel like I am so out of control. You make me think such bad things about myself and you make me feel so hopeless and worthless.
I hate always wishing to be thin. You always make me feel so incredibly fat, even when I am so underweight I have to be put in the hospital. I hate feeling like I constantly have to compare myself to everyone that I see. I feel like I am striving to be perfect, but nothing I do is ever good enough. I never want to hear your voice again. It is so difficult trying to go through life with your voice always nagging me in my head. I HATE YOU, I really do.
Every single thought that goes through my mind is that I’m not good enough, skinny enough, pretty enough or smart enough. I’ve dealt with you for over seven years now and it has been the longest seven years of my life. When I was little, I had no friends, no social life and no fun. I always tried to keep a smile on my face, even though deep down inside, I was hurting so badly. I wanted to be beautiful, like all the models and actresses. I wanted to be thin so badly that I would rather die than be fat. You told me that I was being strong by not eating. I have never cheated, lied or hurt anyone more than I have when I was with you. I have hurt my entire family and all of my friends. I have pushed people away when I needed them the most. You ruined my life and you were the worst thing that ever happened to me.
I thought I was doing the right thing by restricting, purging, exercising, cutting, taking diet pills, laxatives, diuretics - anything that I could get my hands on. I thought I was doing something good by losing weight and hurting my body. I now realize how wrong I was by thinking that. I thought that by becoming thin, I would become happy; that was the biggest lie you have ever told me. I lost so much weight and was so unhappy. You hurt me so much. I wanted to feel pretty, to be popular and have a lot of friends. I wanted to make the perfect grades, get accepted to the best college and impress everyone I knew. I wanted people to think, “That girl has it all.”
I felt like I needed you most of my life. You were my only friend that I could turn to when no one else was there. When my life was falling apart, or something bad happened, you were always there to bring me back up. You were constantly there by my side through everything. You gave me comfort and control, and that’s what I wanted. It is so hard to let go of you, because you were my best friend. I have to be strong now and let go. You have made it so hard to get close to people. I feel like I don’t deserve anything anymore. You took away my life from me and now I want it back. You took away my friends, my faith, my family, my happiness and you filled it with self-hatred, depression and sadness. You took away every good opportunity in my life that I had. I couldn’t do anything anymore because I was so worn out over you. I want to get rid of you completely.
I have felt a little taste of life without you and I was never happier. I smiled and laughed so hard when you weren’t in my life. Once everything seems to be okay, and in its place, you keep coming back into my life and taking everything from me again. You tore me to pieces. Every night that I cried myself to sleep, I was in so much pain and just wanted you to stop coming into my life and telling me all these negative things. I want you to stop and never come back again. I am finally starting to let go of you and let other people back in my life. People need me, and I need them more than ever. I have Jesus in my life, and He has helped me more than you ever did. I don’t need you anymore, and I never will.
You have been in my life for way too long and I don’t want to hear your voice in my head again ever. I am drawing a line between us, and you may try to cross it multiple times, but I will never let you. God has shown me what great things I can do and I completely trust Him now. No matter how hard you try, I will never let you back into my life. You destroyed me and I cannot be destroyed ever again. You may try to feed me lies and let me try to think awful things again, but I won’t believe you. I am better than this. I am trying to become a better person. I am starting to like who I am.
It takes work, but I am really trying. I am so much better than what you ever told me. I realized that if I am going to be happy, then I need to be healthy and I am not becoming your version of happy anymore. I need to end this now. I would like to say thank you though, because you have made me such a stronger person, and I can see reality now. I am so much happier without you and I am so much closer to God than I was ever before, so thank you for that. You have made me realize who I want to be.
Although those are good things, the bad you have shown me outweigh the good. I am such a better person than this and I realize that now. I hope and pray every day that you will never come back into my life. Please stay away from me. I am stronger than ever and I am going to beat this.
I am such a better person now and I couldn’t be happier.
I’m writing to say how much I hate you and how much I want you out of my life.
I hate the way that you make me feel and I hate the control you have over me. You make me feel like such a failure. You make me feel like I am so out of control. You make me think such bad things about myself and you make me feel so hopeless and worthless.
I hate always wishing to be thin. You always make me feel so incredibly fat, even when I am so underweight I have to be put in the hospital. I hate feeling like I constantly have to compare myself to everyone that I see. I feel like I am striving to be perfect, but nothing I do is ever good enough. I never want to hear your voice again. It is so difficult trying to go through life with your voice always nagging me in my head. I HATE YOU, I really do.
Every single thought that goes through my mind is that I’m not good enough, skinny enough, pretty enough or smart enough. I’ve dealt with you for over seven years now and it has been the longest seven years of my life. When I was little, I had no friends, no social life and no fun. I always tried to keep a smile on my face, even though deep down inside, I was hurting so badly. I wanted to be beautiful, like all the models and actresses. I wanted to be thin so badly that I would rather die than be fat. You told me that I was being strong by not eating. I have never cheated, lied or hurt anyone more than I have when I was with you. I have hurt my entire family and all of my friends. I have pushed people away when I needed them the most. You ruined my life and you were the worst thing that ever happened to me.
I thought I was doing the right thing by restricting, purging, exercising, cutting, taking diet pills, laxatives, diuretics - anything that I could get my hands on. I thought I was doing something good by losing weight and hurting my body. I now realize how wrong I was by thinking that. I thought that by becoming thin, I would become happy; that was the biggest lie you have ever told me. I lost so much weight and was so unhappy. You hurt me so much. I wanted to feel pretty, to be popular and have a lot of friends. I wanted to make the perfect grades, get accepted to the best college and impress everyone I knew. I wanted people to think, “That girl has it all.”
I felt like I needed you most of my life. You were my only friend that I could turn to when no one else was there. When my life was falling apart, or something bad happened, you were always there to bring me back up. You were constantly there by my side through everything. You gave me comfort and control, and that’s what I wanted. It is so hard to let go of you, because you were my best friend. I have to be strong now and let go. You have made it so hard to get close to people. I feel like I don’t deserve anything anymore. You took away my life from me and now I want it back. You took away my friends, my faith, my family, my happiness and you filled it with self-hatred, depression and sadness. You took away every good opportunity in my life that I had. I couldn’t do anything anymore because I was so worn out over you. I want to get rid of you completely.
I have felt a little taste of life without you and I was never happier. I smiled and laughed so hard when you weren’t in my life. Once everything seems to be okay, and in its place, you keep coming back into my life and taking everything from me again. You tore me to pieces. Every night that I cried myself to sleep, I was in so much pain and just wanted you to stop coming into my life and telling me all these negative things. I want you to stop and never come back again. I am finally starting to let go of you and let other people back in my life. People need me, and I need them more than ever. I have Jesus in my life, and He has helped me more than you ever did. I don’t need you anymore, and I never will.
You have been in my life for way too long and I don’t want to hear your voice in my head again ever. I am drawing a line between us, and you may try to cross it multiple times, but I will never let you. God has shown me what great things I can do and I completely trust Him now. No matter how hard you try, I will never let you back into my life. You destroyed me and I cannot be destroyed ever again. You may try to feed me lies and let me try to think awful things again, but I won’t believe you. I am better than this. I am trying to become a better person. I am starting to like who I am.
It takes work, but I am really trying. I am so much better than what you ever told me. I realized that if I am going to be happy, then I need to be healthy and I am not becoming your version of happy anymore. I need to end this now. I would like to say thank you though, because you have made me such a stronger person, and I can see reality now. I am so much happier without you and I am so much closer to God than I was ever before, so thank you for that. You have made me realize who I want to be.
Although those are good things, the bad you have shown me outweigh the good. I am such a better person than this and I realize that now. I hope and pray every day that you will never come back into my life. Please stay away from me. I am stronger than ever and I am going to beat this.
I am such a better person now and I couldn’t be happier.
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