As I sit here on this beautiful day, I realize just how wonderful life really is. Sure we all have struggles and hard aches but in the end, we’re all alive. I’m thankful for being rid of my eating disorder for a whole month. For finding my peace with my unfortunate circumstances and for the undying support of my family and close friends. We each have a destiny to fulfill and if we can just try to weed out the negativity, we can accomplish what we’re meant to. I was told that it might take up to 5 years for me to get a kidney but that’s ok. 60 years ago, I would have been dead already. I’m happy that I have more time to walk this earth and inspire those who feel like giving up.
After I came out of jail, I took a medical leave of absence from school and went home to south Florida. I lived there for around 3 months but I wasn’t getting along with my parents. So in April 2012, I took the greyhound bus for 22 hours to Columbus Georgia to be with my mom. 2 weeks later, I fell into a coma.
It started with a fever that just kept getting higher. Now before this, I was pretty much done with life. I kept asking God to do something to help me. I kept crying out that I couldn’t take it anymore. That there must be a reason as to why I go through so much hell. There had been so many times that I contemplated suicide but something always held me back.
No one knew why I was in a coma or even if I would wake up. My soul laid in emptiness for 2 weeks.
I awoke to my mother smiling with tears in her eyes. I was really confused. I had no memory of anything that happened. I tried to get up but I couldn’t walk. They had put blood pressure cuffs on my ankles so they wouldn’t clot. So my feet were swollen. I was sad and still really confused.
I turned over and realized there was something in my chest. I asked my mom what it was and she said for dialysis. What? Did I hear right? Apparently my last functioning kidney, broke down and they had to put me on dialysis.
All I could do was cry. Cry to God begging him to just take me and put me out my misery. Crying to my mother “why?”. Just crying for the unexplained. I was done with life. But instead of giving up, I searched for a deeper meaning.
I feel as though the world around me is moving at a fast pace while I’m standing still, too small to stop it. Too eager to drop it. I feel as though things in my life are missing and my soul can feel their absence. God help me. I feel as though I’ll be perpetually unhappy. God hold me. I feel as though no one will truly understand the cries of my heart. My being longs to break free and my rays of sunshine long to warm the hearts of others. God save me.
My manias got so bad that I guess my boyfriend couldn’t take it anymore and broke up with me. I was a little sad that I just lost a boyfriend but more upset at having lost a person that was helping me with my problems. I tried to soften the pain by doing a ton of drugs. Weed, cocaine, shrooms, pills, etc. I spent ally school money on drugs. I just felt like giving up.
So one day I texted my now ex, saying I wanted to kill myself and I do believe that I was honestly going to do it. So he called the cops once more. Next thing I know, the cops arrive and ask me for all my drugs. I gave them everything and was then put in cuffs. They took me off to jail for 12 whole days.
The cops came and I was shocked that my boyfriend had called them. They saw the cuts on my arm and took me to a mental institution for 3 days. I met some really interesting people in there and faked my way through. When I came out, I was really mad at my boyfriend but super happy to be out. So I carried on with life as if nothing happened. The doctors diagnosed me with having bi-polar disorder but I never got meds. So I just continued life with a fake smile on my face. Until I went to jail….
The time came where I had to go home. I was secretly still purging but then my parents somehow found out. They tried to get me help but I wouldn’t let me them go bankrupt to put me in a treatment center. Or maybe I didn’t want to let go of my best friend. Either way, I was convinced that I was still in control. Until I went back to school.
I went back for the fall of 2011 and immediately started dating someone. I felt on top of the world that someone could like me with all my flaws. I continued life as normal as possible and was even starting to gain weight (from outside sources). But the fact of the matter was, my boyfriend annoyed me. Everything he did was annoying. But I enjoyed having someone to vent to. He was always so positive and I so negative.
I started to really experiment with drugs and pills and eventually, just stopped going to classes. I was trying really hard to not give up cause my parents didn’t want me there to begin with. Over the course of me and my boyfriend’s relationship, I had a lot of manias. Lots of nightmares and cutting. I remember he physically had to restrain me from hurting myself. It got so bad one night, that he called the cops.
I’m taking a break from storytelling to express my thoughts for today. Everyday is a struggle. Everyday is filled with laughter and tears. Joy and fears. I’m ready to be whole again but I know that will take some time. I miss my friends and I oddly miss school. But I have to work on me first before I can think about anything else.
I was starting to really lose weight and I thought I had everything in control. But I found myself crying over and over again. And I really started to drink. My day would go like this: wake up, take care of the baby, purge, take care of the baby, purge more, and finally when my sister would get home, I’d lock myself in my room and drink till I passed out.
Not only was I drinking but I had started to cut my wrists too. I was a mess. I called my sister in Arizona one day crying and saying how I can’t handle everything and before I knew it, she was on the next flight there. When she came, she took all the alcohol out the house and even followed me to the bathroom so I wouldn’t purge. I was annoyed that I couldn’t get to escape. So I planned differently.
Instead of purging, I started counting calories. One teaspoon of tuna here, one sip of tea there. 12 bottles of water a day and a rigorous exercise routine that consisted of 100 sit ups 3 times a day.
My sister watched me and tried to help but I was too far gone. One day, I got mad at her for not letting me purge and we got into a physical fight and I pushed her down a few steps. She called the police saying I was having a mental breakdown. But when they came, I pretended to be ok, even hiding my wrists that were now covered in cuts. After they left, I went upstairs and I could hear my sister crying downstairs. I knew I was causing her distress so I went down and told her she could take me to the hospital to see what they say.
We went and they just gave me a bunch of pamphlets on treatment centers but I didn’t have the money for those kinds of places. I felt hopeless and scared and really bad for getting my sister involved. I didn’t know what to do so I kept losing weight.