Drugs, depression, disorders. 3 Di's went hand in hand.
by Majia Cain
Monday, 15 October 2012
I remember when i was younger i'd always tell myself, "i am never going to do drugs. never going to drink. never going to smoke. i am going to be a good girl."
Yes, im sure we've all been there, told ourselves we wouldnt do something, or complain how much we hate a characteristic of someone else and later on find ourselves doing exactly what we were against.
When i turned 12 i smoked pot for the very first time. I wasnt peer pressured, it wasn't to be cool, it was simply because i wanted to try it i went against what i thought when i was younger, and thought i'd give it a shot. i mean, why not, right? I smoked. That was it. Nothing less, nothing more. I just got high, and that whats i continued to do every single day after the first time i smoked. Until..
I had just turned 15, me and moms birthday are a week apart, so we decided to have a joined party at our house. My mom didnt care that i drink, hell, she took shots with me. She never cared if i smoked, she always likes to join into smoking session with me sometimes also. Anyways, after the party started to die down and the only people left were my moms drunk friends, me and my older cousin, and younger cousin went with a friend out to his lakehouse. It was far, so far that i didnt have service. We got there and we started to smoke. I was pretty buzzed from all the shots i took and really high, from the corner of my eye i could see him pull out a little baggy with white powder. I thought to myself, "there is no way that this is what i think it is." I couldnt believe it. These things dont actually happen in real life, not in my life, there isnt any way.
I think we all know what im referencing to, yes, it was cocaine. To make a long story short, that night i snorted two lines of coke. i absolutely loved it. The way it made me feel, the tingly numbness it gave me, everything. After that night i started to hang out with my cousin a lot more. The guys house we had went to that night soon became her boyfriend, and thats when it all began.
It was the summer time now, so i was able to stay there as long as i want. I didnt have to go home to my mom, i rarely saw her, i was free to do whatever i wanted, with no consequences, or so i thought. My cousin was on probation so she couldnt smoke weed for a couple months, to improvise we moved to the newer synthetic weed, "spice". Even though it was all over the news, blasting stories of how teens were sent to the hospital, some even ended in death, i stll carried on.
I was introduced to the commonly known pill Adderral. I snorted it through that straw for the first time, and i fell in love. Out of all the drugs i used Adderral was the best. From acid, cocaine, spice, etc.. Addies were my addiction. I loved the way it made me feel, how it would keep me up for days. The fact that Adderal gives you the illusion that you're not hungry, was just a perk. After being on Adderral for weeks on end, only eating when i had to so i wouldnt get too sick, i had lost so much weight. I felt so comfortable with my body, i felt wonderful.
Even though the fact i was on Adderral was perfectly fine with me, my girlfriend wasnt so please with me. I needed to stop or i knew i would lose her, and thats the last thing i wanted. So with help and a lot of hard work i ended it. I strictly smoked weed, and that was it. I didnt do anything else. Now that i was off Adderral and i had starting eating regurrally, i noticed i started to gain the weight i had lost back. The more i gained, the more my confidence went shooting down. As you can already guess, i started starving myself. I tried making myself throw up, but it never worked for me. Nothing would ever come up. I later found out nothing would come up because i simply wasnt eating enough.
One day, i was starving. Not the regular growl of the stomach, appose to the usually sinking in feeling, i got the caving in, like its going to break down into a fine powder. Remembering what i had learned, i ate. I ate an actual full meal, way more than my usual X or less calories, but a full meal. I knew that it would make me sick from going to eating barely nothing, to having a meal, but it would just help the process. Now that i had eaten enough i figured i could just throw it all back up and move on. I was wrong. After stuffing myself, i quickly went to the bathroom. Trying once more what i had desperately tried before, it still wouldnt work. No matter how far i would put back, no matter how hard id stab my throat...nothing. it kilt me.
I beat myself up a lot for it, but i kept telling myself how good it felt to eat. To have a full stomach, not feel like my stomach was going to collapse at any moment. With help from my girlfriend, i slowly began to eat more and more, before i was back to my regular diet. Everything was going fine, i was making it through. I still worried about my weight, and found healthier ways to try and maintain an ideal weight, and i thought everything was going good. That lasted approximately 2-3 weeks.
I told myself i was stronger than this. I told myself that i had a girlfriend who loved me for who i was, so why should i need to change? why should i harm myself? i was perfect in my own way. I was gaining weight, even if noone else saw it, even if i was imagining it all in my head, i saw it, i felt it...and now here i am. back to where i started.
I eat about once a day, and if more than once its tiny little here and there things. I dont allow myself to go over the maximum of X calories. I need help, and i know it.
When i starve myself it instantly makes me feel skinnier. Even if i havent lost weight yet, even if i havent jumped down a inch, in a sense it builds my confidence a little more, just for it to be knocked back down with my, "not good enough." thoughts.
Following those thoughts, are other thoughts...much darker and hurtful kind. For me, an eating disorder and depression goes hand in hand.
I am stronger than this. i will get through this. i WILL get better.