Happy Christmas everyone!
I know it’s a few days late, but I spent all of boxing day throwing up so I didn’t really have a chance to write. It never fails, almost every year I spend boxing day hugging the cooled porcelain bowl that devours my sickness.
I am feeling so much better than I did yesterday, and I actually ate some crackers today, and I kept them down.
Now, as everyone knows, the new year is coming up quite soon, and we all have resolutions we’d like to keep. Many people want to lose weight, become healthier, more athletic, vegan, blah blah blah. My resolution is to continue to be as happy and healthy, mentally and physically, as I can be.
I am finally in a good place, passing my classes, loving myself and my life, and truly believing that the love of family and friends is louder than any pressures in life. I have no issues talking to therapists, family, friends, or anyone when it comes to my happiness, unhappiness, concerns, or whatever it may be. I take medications, I stand up for myself, and I love myself more than I ever have.
Only this year did I begin to love myself, and realize the importance in it. I grew up with four sisters and every single one had self-loathing actions. Two had full blown eating disorders, one went overboard with becoming healthy and “active”, and one was a normal human. The normal one had depression and anxiety, and because of that stupid stigma, didn’t think she needed help, didn’t realize just how much better life could be if she spoke to someone/took medication/ whatever she needed.
After looking at these girls that I thought to be strong, smart, beautiful women hate themselves, I didn’t realize that this is not normal. (Well, actually it is, in today’s society. The amount of hate and self-loathing that exists is ridiculous, and no one should ever go through this alone.) After past traumas, I began to hate my body more, using it as a form of protection, to keep anything similar from happening again. My weight plummeted; I lost pounds, relationships, dreams, and most importantly, self-love. I began self-harming, and up until the day I became clean, I never thought I was doing anything wrong.
Self-harming is not just burning yourself with cigarettes or cutting your wrists and thighs. Self-harm is the eleven days you kept yourself from eating, the nights when your only “meal” was a beer and the cigarettes you smoked on the way home from the bar. Self-harm is the nights you ate one too many slices of pizza and made yourself purge everything in your stomach, wishing you were different. You think appearing a certain way will create a new feeling of self-love, but it doesn’t. Only you can regain the self-love needed to be body-positive, and only you can choose to recover.
Honestly, I don’t know why or how I began to love myself, but once I did, it was life changing, because being your biggest enemy is the worst thing you can do to yourself.
Just remember that love is louder. Than anger, depression, self-loathing, the voices in your head that say you’re not good enough. The love of family and friends is louder than the pressures to be perfect.
Hopefully everyone had a lovely Christmas, and will have an even more exciting New Year.