Not a little girl anymore.
by Carson Monroe
A child always has a happy childhood, right? Wrong. When I was a little girl I was going through things no little girl should. My mom lost my unborn sisters to cancer and my dad left. I grew up pretty early in life. I was always there to help my mom when she cried at night and always put a smile on my face when I visited my dad but I felt this horrible pain inside. At the age of 12 my mom had another child with a man I barely knew. This was real hard on me as in some ways I'd always believed my mom and dad would get back together. Then 2 years later on Christmas day my dad announced he was getting re-married. I didn't know what to say. Me and my dad hadn't ever re-connected after he left he was almost like a stranger. But it still hurt again. At the mere age of 12 my hurt had been broken so many times I thought it un-fixable.
That day after dinner I felt horrible. I locked myself in the bathroom and cried and cried and cried. I was an incredibly inquisitive child so I knew all about bulimia. At first I shook my head and told my self never to think such a stupid thought again. But then I looked in the mirror. I was fat. To this day forward its still hard to write let alone say the word fat. So yeah, I knelt down and threw up. I wasn't very quiet so my cousins heard and I had to lie. The first lie of many. I stopped after that day and didnt continue until...
I went back home two days later and got ready to start my freshman year of high school. On the first day I got funny looks and people whispered about me. I felt like a no body. My two best friends ran off to be Cheerleaders. I was too fat to try out. That day I binged on anything I could find and then purged. This would be my routine everyday. Even after dinner I would hide away and purge. I became depressed and barely left the house. Not two weeks after the teasing and whispers continued. I wondered how everyone else was so happy and I was so sad. I wondered why inside I felt so much hurt yet on the outside I looked normal. That was the day I started to cut. At first I used a school compass because I had no idea what I was doing I just knew it helped. One day I found a sharper object and could cut deeper. As my depression grew.
I bunked lessons to purge in the bathroom and cut. One day, my mom came home from school early. It was the day before my 16th birthday. She found me in the bathroom crying on the floor my blade in my hand and the sick in the toilet. I thought she'd scold me but instead she held me and cried with me. Before she left she whispered 'Your not a little girl anymore. Not the one I used to know'
As much as my family encouraged it I wouldn't go into treatment. I was determined to do it myself. I did stop eventually but it was so hard. But it can be accomplished. I'm not gonna lie and tell you I havent purged or cut since I was 16 because everyday it is a battle. Most of the time I win it but sometimes I lose. But the most important thing is to remember its fine to hurt. But don't take it out on yourself and tell someone.
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