Things are tough again and I’m struggling really hard to make it through the days. Sometimes I think about letting myself sink into it again because I know that giving in to the disorders would be so much easier, but I can’t do that. There was a time in my life when I didn’t have anything left to lose and when it didn’t seem to matter anymore whether I’d keep going or just give up on everything, but things have changed and now I have a lot to lose and can’t risk it. I’ve fought for way too long to just surrender now and make everything I’ve been through completely useless, and I have my son I love so much that I’m willing to sacrifice everything to make sure he grows up with a mother who’s always there for him, no matter what happens. Besides, even though my future still scares the shit out of me, today I believe that there’s at least a chance of making my dreams come true even though they’re only dreams so far. I’ve seen how much I can do when I stay strong. There is so much more to accomplish in this life. I don’t want mental illnesses to take away my possibilities of going to college, graduating, getting a great job and building a life for me and my son. This shit in my head isn’t worth sacrificing everything for. Everything I’ve been through is getting me closer to where I want to be. Who I want to be.


Right now, I’m a total mess. My mood constantly goes up and down, I don’t think I’ve hated my body this much in years, eating is torture as well as the mirror in the bathroom, I keep losing my shit and my hope, get depressed and angry and doubt and criticize myself more than anyone I know. Right now, I feel awful, but there’s a difference between feeling awful now and before having a kid: Now I keep going regardless. I keep fighting. That’s the difference.


I’ve now learned that you can’t choose how you feel when suffering from depression, but how you handle the feelings: You can either let them take over and pull you down or you can force yourself to move on even though they make you feel like there’s nothing left to do that for. It doesn’t matter how often we fall. I feel like falling all the time. But I’m getting back up.

No, I can’t handle all of it. I can’t put on a bikini and it’s pathetic that I’m sitting in our apartment when there’s a great pool in the garden where my family spends their entire vacation without me. Am I a coward for not facing my fears and body image issues and wearing that bikini to defeat what I’m afraid of? Yes. But am I weak? No.

I’m just not ready for it yet. And that’s okay.


Maybe I won’t make it through this vacation. Maybe I’ll have to ask my mom to borrow me the money to get away from here sooner with Jamie and get home because I won’t be able to stand being here anymore. Maybe.

But no matter what, I know one thing for sure: Even if I can’t handle this, I won’t give up on recovery. Relapses hurt like hell and they occur all the time, but I carry on. 

This is not over yet. Dear mental illnesses, prepare yourselves for the fight that’s coming because I won’t go down without one. I’m not the little girl anymore I was when you came to me. I know you’re still able to pull me down every day a few times, but I’m getting stronger as I get back on my feet every time. 

Nobody ever said this was easy.

No one ever said it would be this hard.

I’ll break down, but will I give up? Hell no. Yeah, I’m depressed, but I can assure you of one thing: I’m not weak.

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