Dear Fourteen Year Old Self,

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I swear. I was only trying to be okay. I didn’t know this was what I chose to be in peace with my demons. I wanted to shut the voices that have taunted us away. I wanted to be pretty. I wanted to be good enough. You wanted to be accepted. I know and that’s why I went through depths to try to know how it felt to love yourself. But I did it wrong, apparently. I tried to destroy myself instead thinking if I did it would destroy the voices too.
But I’m sorry. I swear. I feel shitty. Because you were hopeful. You cared about silly crushes and crappy friends. You cared about your parents being proud of you. You were full of dreams. And I’m sorry but you no longer exist. And I don’t think you ever will.
Your Growing Self
(P.S, I’d say I love you but I don’t think I can since I don’t even love who I am right now.)

Growing Up: Cold

There’ll be days where your fingers will be cold but you’ll just curl them into your palm and keep them from getting too cold. Those are your good days. But then there’ll be other days where your heart will feel cold. Where you’ll feel cold all over and wish to feel some warmth though it seems like an impossibility. There’ll be days where you’ll curl up in bed and smile that no one is bothering you today. There’ll be days when you wear a warm sweater but wish to be held by someone that fell in love with you and you did unto them. There’ll be days where hope is something that has become apart of you like the cold wind all around you. There’ll be days that hope is just like warmth in your body during a winter season; hard to find.

I’m fucking valid.
I’m not worth pitiful looks and stares.
I’m not worth tired sighs and rolling eyes.
I’m not worth neverminds and endless shrugs.
I’m not worth generic advice.
I’m not worth stories of how you have it worse.
I’m not worth fake smiles and ignorant help.
I’m not your student. I’m not your servant. I’m not a doormat to be walked on.
I’m not worth your shitty attitude.
I’m fucking valid.

“Its none of our faults,” you yelled with such conviction. No its not. Its not your fault. Its all mine. I shouldn’t have let the voices get into my head. Maybe I wished you could listen to me instead of me having to listen to you. But that’s not your fault. Now I have to nod and apologise for making you feel something other than pity for yourself. You’re amazing. I love you so much. But fuck you. I needed you so much. And you just yelled saying that I keep making it hard for you.

My Courage Keeps Emptying Out

A few years ago, eating for me was just like any other activity. It made me happy and it kept me going. But then things started spiralling down and suddenly eating was a sin. It made me feel guilt and made me purge. Keeping the food in meant me being a waste of space. It was my dad that made me start. He had his side comments about my weight but of course as a girl, if I showed that I took it to heart it would mean I was too sensitive. And then it started with friends, being smaller than me and yet complaining about how big they were. But aside of all that it was all me. My therapist says my eating disorder is not me and is a monster just needing to leave me alone. No one told me that before, people just assumed it was a problem they needed to fix within me. With fake compliments and telling me to just be happy. But fuck it didn’t help. It never did. Recovery is an odd word. How much of a warrior can I be?

Growing Up: Reality

But as I unravel my mysteries that I don’t even understand, I realise how real everything is. How real it is when someone leaves you. When your friend is in front of you but they are actually not and the friendship had ended days ago but you’re sitting there watering a dead plant. How real it is when someone makes a small mistake and you secretly distance yourself because you’re scared they will make it again and it’ll be your fault since you let them. How real it is when you feel lonely. But you also realise that you will always go through crap. And you will fall seven times and stand up the eighth time. Cry if you will, yell if you must but remember that reality is a theory caused by the mind and you’re going through yours.

Is Time an Illusion?

The past is a remorseful and nostalgic place. You wonder about how it all ended or began. You wonder where in all those memories did things start getting bad. The past is a dangerous place to keep yourself there. Because too much time living in the past will mean you’re only surviving and not living.

The present is a bunch of things. Its fast, sad, happy, full of pressure, timeless, and significant. They say the happiest ones are the ones that live in the present and forgive their past selves.

The future is a scary illusion. You’re constantly wondering what will happen to you in a minute, or a day, or a week, or a month, or a year. You’re wondering if one wrong step can cost your whole pathway to success. But the future is never what you think it is to be. It is an unexpected adventure. Or a nightmare.