The Flower Project

Just a support thing I have started.


1. Intro as to Why I'm starting TFP

I wanted to let you all know that I am on the road to recovery, yet again.

A lot has happened. 

So, in 6th grade, I was really depressed and my mom was on chemo therapy at the time, the pill form and i could get easy access to it, There was this big pregnancy rumor started about me at school and people were believing it! I had enough, so I started starving myself to look skinnier so people wouldn't believe it, if i was pregnant then i would have gotten fat but if i got skinnier then people wouldn't believe it, then i started to purge.But at the same time I started to binge. Binge eating disorder is where you feel like you are in an addictive relationship with food, you feel so lonely that you eat away your fears, pain, grief, depression, anxiety and all of those other addictions. I felt so horrible because of starving and puking all the time, so I would binge to take the emotion away and that didn't work. I got bullied sooo bad that I just wanted everything to end. It got to the point to where I couldn't feel the blade anymore, the blade being everyones words, but even though I couldn't feel it, it still hurt worse than ever, it got to the point it got to the point where I hated to feel anything, I hated loving and caring and breathing and waking up every morning, It got to the point to where I didn't see the point in trying, in breathing or living. I screamed at everything and I hated to feel, I got tired of people believing my fake laughs and forced smiles and people not seeming to care and i got tired of being bullied, I just wanted everything to end, I was done with life. I grabbed a paper and pencil and even wrote a suicide note and everything, I grabbed a bottle of vodka my parents had and the chemo pills and took them up to my room, I was gonna do it late at night. I got so anxious about it so I watched t.v. and it had Demi Lovato's story on. The one where she is on 20/20 and she talked about cutting herself for the first time and it inspired me and I thought that if she could be okay and overcome everything then I would be able to do it too, so I can honestly say that if it wasn't for Demi that I would've committed suicide that night. My parents know a few things about this. They know I have eating disorders and they know Demi saved my life ad they know I wanted to overdose, they don;t know about the suicide part to it though. My mom knows that I did struggle with an Eating Disorder and she knew about the rumors but I just told her it didn't effect me. 

I was doing really well until a year ago.

It was the day after Thanksgiving and I looked in the mirror and I felt so disgusted with myself. I thought I looked like a fat, ugly, cow. I wanted to change my appearance as much as I could. Demi's story had always popped up in my mind and I always said that if it wasn't for her that I wouldn't be alive. I started asking for piercings and different hair just to change as much as possible. I felt horrible. I felt ugly. I felt gross. I felt like I wanted out. I then again started starving myself. I went 2 days whole with out having one single bite to eat. Sounds impossible but it happened. But that night I was laying in my bed at 2:00 in the morning and I just passed out. Literally, like passed out dead. I don't remember much but all I know is that I woke up the next morning by the grace of God. But I was stupid and continued to starve myself. I went days without eating a full meal. No one noticed. Or they did notice but were just scared to make a move. It felt like no one wanted to help. It felt like no one cared. It felt like they were scared of me like I was some sort of freak. They were scared to make a move and ask if I'm okay. No one would look in my eyes and see that I was screaming the words 'broken' 'need help' 'be my friend' 'i'm alone' 'i hate myself' 'i have an eating disorder and i want your help' all they would do was buy the act I would sell. Believe my fake laughs and forced smiles. They would believe me when I said I was fine. My family from Ohio came to see me and the first thing my cousin said to me was "Are you okay? Do you need to talk?" I was so happy that she saw through me. But I was stupid and said "No, I'm okay." I have been starving myself ever since, for more than a year. My family has been living in hotels. One day last October, I just broke down crying. I couldn't hold all of it in anymore. I just let it out, sobbing into my mother's arms as she held me telling me I was okay and asking why I was crying. "I don't know" Is what I told her, I didn't really know, being a 14 year old who has un-diagnosed anorexia, bulimia, and binge ED and can't escape her suicidal thoughts and can't escape the anxious feeling and is abused by her own mind, you don't really know what's going on. My mom took me to the E.R. that night, the nurse asked if I ever had thoughts of hurting myself or others. I lied like a pro and said No. I have never ever had a thought of hurting others but I have had many thoughts of hurting myself. I told my parents that I was depressed in the end of October. I told them that I have been covering it all up with forced smiles and fake laughs and have been selling a big act. My dad didn't believe me, all he said was 'You're fine, stop being a drama queen, Depression is a lot harder to mask, especially for some one your age.' I was looking for help. I talked to them about going to a therapist and going to rehab even. I was trying to change, I was trying to look for help. But knowing that your own family, your own blood even bought your act is devastating. It's the worst felling to ever have. It hurts you more than having one of your family members die. It is a horrible thing to experience.  But that day, I went to my friends, I talked to them about how I was feeling and how I felt and how I told my parents and what they said. They told me that I'm strong and that they want to help me, they said that they loved me and would be devastated if something happened. They told me that they wanted to help. I listened to them, they took away every blade I had. They took away ever poster of skinny girls to remind me of what I thought I had to look like. I have since then, ate meals and not cut. But it would be a lie if I told you that I haven't starved my self, or that I haven't self-medicated since then. I have, but that's part of recovery. You aren't fixed over night, it's a process to untangle the mess you've made of your own mind. I am currently sober, if that's what you wanna call it. I still get nervous every time my parents want to go out to eat, I still get nervouse about any food. I still have the thoughts of starving myself. In fact I have starved myself since then, but it's hard to stop when you know the emotional pain, mental pain and physical pain you are going to go through one you do eat something. My parents never figured anything out because I don't look anorexic. I have come to terms that I have eating disorders, my family knows, all my friends know, but that's part of recovery. But the next chapter will tell more about The Flower Project

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