someoneunidentified-blog

[someoneunidentified-blog]

Source: https://yourteenmag.com/health/teenager-mental-health/teen-depression-and-anxiety

“My name?”

The man nodded.

Right. This was an interview.

You chose to do this. You chose this.

“B-Brynn.”

“Last name?” the man asked. Jotting down my name.

“I, er, can we not do that?”

The man looked me in the eye before sighing and nodding.

“Alright. You can start now.”

“H-how?” I stuttered.

“From the beginning.”

Right. From the beginning.

I took a deep breath.

⋆⋆⋆

I was always quiet.

That kid in the corner.

Makes sense no one noticed when I burrowed deeper.

I got what? Two, four hours a night. I barely ate. Felt so…

….Worthless.

I became more and more convinced this was just how I was.

Help.

I thought about asking. But, wouldn’t that make me a burden?

⋆⋆⋆

“You aren’t a burden.”

I look up. “Huh?”

“You just said you were a burden. You aren’t,” said the interviewer.

“Oh…” I didn’t think…. He would care.

“I’m human you know. I care. I have feelings,” he put his hand over mine. “You’re okay now.”

Sure.

“Can we get on with the interview?”

“Of course,” the man nodded for me to keep going. “Continue.”

⋆⋆⋆

I constantly thought my family didn’t want me around. I woke up crying feeling a weight on my shoulders everyday.

I think I’d be a good actor. No one noticed what was happening.

My parents mostly just called me overly sensitive.

That winter.

I thought about hurting my self.

I finally told my mom. She thought it was just PMS.

(The interviewer snarled and wrote something down while muttering something.)

My confidence was shattered. My symptoms only got worse. My relationship with my family turned to dust.

It took so much energy to get through the day.

Summer rolled around and I confessed to my friends how I was feeling. They didn’t do much. How could they? We were sixteen.

As the summer went by I became fixated on my body. That didn’t turn out well.

⋆⋆⋆

I stopped talking for a moment.

“Brynn?”

I looked up.

“You can go home. We can pick up on this tomorrow,” he stood up looking at me expectantly.

“O-okay.”

“See you tomorrow.”

[someoneunidentified-blog]

Source: https://www.alustforlife.com/personal-stories/my-story-as-a-teenager-coping-with-self-harm-and-anxiety

I’m 17.

I suffer from panic attacks.

My name is Alexis.

ღ

Alexis was always very honest.

When she was fourteen that is.

She very open about everything. Except her anxiety. Why worry them? She was already going to counseling and she was taking her medication. Everything was fine.

Except when it wasn’t.

Nothing helped. Nothing.

Soon, she began thinking of cutting herself. She resisted. She was so ashamed of these thoughts…

It took three months for her to tell her parents.

ღ

The thoughts were becoming louder.

Louder.

LOUDER.

Screams resonated through my head.

Just do it, it’s fine.

Relax, this is normal.

Grab that knife.

Make a cut.

Make a cut!

Cut!

I did what I had to, to silence the screams.

It’s fine. Normal.

Nothing’s wrong.

It hurts, but thats-

My brother.

He knocked patiently on the door.

“Dinner’s ready! You coming Alexis?”

I looked at the pool of blood surrounding me. The knife in my hand.

“Alexis? Are you okay? Need me to come in?”

“No, it’s fine,” I hollered.

The worst lie ever told.

“I’ll be right down Jacob.”

Right after I tell Dad.

ღ

Alexis blamed school. It only made sense.

Everytime someone so much as talked to her.

Not getting that perfect grade.

Getting called on.

Deep down she knew it wasn’t school.

It was the people.

Talking to them.

Being unique.

Being perfect.

3rd grade was so bad.

The school library was where she earned her scars.

Scars that were now permanent.

Five. They went up and down her arm. How had she gone out with blood stains on her arm? She wasn’t going to school next year. Maybe 5th grade.

ღ

I sat back. Did I really need to say more?

Will I subject myself to more of this torture?

Yes.

This needs to be said.

“A few weeks ago I went to the Kodaline concert with a group of friends.”

Deep breath.

“The crowds were huge and completely threw me off. I ended up in the bathroom cutting to try to stop a panic attack as ‘Walking On Cars’ opened with their first few songs. Luckily I was wearing a hat and sunglasses so I could hide my tear stained face from everyone. Once we were in the crowd the panic attack came full force.”

“Deep breath in. Out. In Out…” I muttered. I wasn’t saying this to someone IRL. Why was I so…

...Afraid.

Relax. Relax.

“When this started I never thought that friends, family and peers could be so understanding and truly supportive, we don’t give people enough credit. Most are willing to help if we let them.”

“At the end of the day this is an illness, not a choice.”

[someoneunidentified-blog]

Based off a true story

𝑀𝓎 𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝒦𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃𝒶.

Saffran.

My name is Kristina Saffran.

I should start like that.

Yet I don’t.

“To avoid monotony, and provide a basic framework for my story, I’d like to get the basic facts out of the way.  I developed anorexia nervosa at ten years old.  The weight loss was quick and drastic, and when my parents’ friends began asking if I had a terminal disease, they got right on the phone to make an appointment with the nearest specialist.  I was diagnosed at the beginning of my fifth grade year, and fought and cried and saw three treatment providers weekly.  By the beginning of the next school year, however, I was better.  I thrived in middle school, and even remember joking with friends about how ‘I couldn’t even be anorexic again if I tried.’”

I can remember that. Thinking about how easy it was. How I thought it was like a disease. Get it once, live through it, become immune.

God. I was so naive.

“False.  At thirteen, a few months before middle school graduation, I relapsed.  It was slow, and it was gradual, but my eating disorder came back with a force that I hadn’t even remotely felt when I was ten.  On my first visit back to my old specialist, in early August, I was admitted directly to the hospital. That year, my freshman year of high school, was marked with three more hospitalizations, bringing my total time spent in the hospital, and not spent in school, to seven months.  I was discharged from my last hospitalization in late June, when all of my friends were finishing their final exams of freshman year.  I continued to fight and struggle, probably even harder than I had in the hospital, to get healthy.”

“I want to share what it’s really like to live with an eating disorder – beginning to end, no glitz, no glamour, no vain teenage girl who wants to be skinny.   Most people think eating disorders are sociocultural illnesses caused by the media. While our societal obsession with thinness can certainly exacerbate the illness, in reality, eating disorders have some of the strongest genetic and neurobiological underpinnings of any mental illness. For me, what started off as a simple diet quickly set off a very different reward and motivation system, and my behaviors became compulsive rather than logical.  Further, when most people think of eating disorders, they think of  white, young, rich, skinny girls.  Unfortunately, this stereotype is wildly inaccurate. Rates of most eating disorders are equal across socioeconomic brackets, in white, latino, asian, and black communities, and rates of bulimia can actually be higher in black and latino communities. One in three sufferers are men.  Roughly 30% of sufferers struggle with an eating disorder for their entire lives, so we’re not just talking about teens.  And the majority of people with eating disorders are not underweight: you really can’t tell just by looking at someone.  The one thing I am certain that all sufferers would all agree on is that there is absolutely no glamour in suffering. I hope I can provide concrete evidence of this.”

And so it begins.

⚜

Kristina at age 10: What are you doing?

Anna (Babysitter): Eating.

Kristina: That’s baby food.

Anna: Of course it is! It’s a new diet called the Baby Food Diet, all you can eat is Baby food.

Kristina: Why?

Anna: So you can lose weight.

Kristina: Why?

Anna: So you’ll be pretty and skinny.

Kristina: Why?

Anna: *Sighs* Let me eat in peace Kristina.

Kristina: *Stares at Anna* Can I try?

⚜

Kristina, now older, stands in front of a mirror.

Kristina takes a good look at herself.

Words flash through her mind.

Imperfect.

Fat.

Ugly.

Why can’t you just be perfect?

Can’t you just be perfect?

Be perfect?

Be perfect.

She had gained a few pounds during puberty.

She hated that.

Why couldn’t she lose them?

Simple enough.

Don’t eat and you’ll be perfect.

You’ll finally be perfect.

At first, everything was okay.

She felt great.

She set a goal and achieve it quickly.

She didn’t feel different.

She was still social.

No one said you weren’t.

You panicked in class when the teacher called on you.

You call that “social”?

You were so tired today.

You slept for eight hours.

But, its okay.

You need to be perfect.

⚜

You hear yelling from your parents room.

They’re fighting.

Again.

Be rational and go to your room… [Error#8254: NUMBER NOT FOUND]

Cry… [Error#8254: NUMBER NOT FOUND]

Skip lunch… 

1.) You don’t want to.

It’s not healthy.

You’ll ruin everything.

But it’s just too much.

You can’t put food your mouth.

Doesn’t matter what you want. Eat…. [Error#6435: NO]

Please stop it’s bad for you!... [Error#6435: NO]

Nothing’s wrong. Keep going… 2

2.) Your parents serve you food.

They watch you.

They want you to be healthy.

They give you a drink.

Coke.

Or at least it looks like it.

You brought a diet can and switched the label.

No one can tell the difference.

Stop! This is bad! Stop!.... [Error#8371: BE PERFECT]

Congratulations… 3

3.) You weigh yourself multiple times a day.

You aren’t perfect enough.

You are never perfect.

Your parents threw away your scales.

Listen to them! They’re trying to help you!.... [Error#8371: BE PERFECT]

Buy a new one…. 4

4.) Your mom took you to her hairdresser.

She wants to make sure you’re eating.

Eat! Make her happy…. [Error#9235: FEAR FOOD]

Pretend to eat…. 5

5.) Doctors tell you over and over again:

“You might never be the same again.”

“You might go to a treatment center.”

“You might be a 50 year old and still have Anorexia.”

“You might be going through Anosognosia.”

Cool. Let’s be like them.

Let’s be perfect.

Don’t hide.

Just be you… 6

6.) Get better!

Get better!

Live life!

You have nothing to lose!

Please think!

Please think.

Live.

As yourself.

Live… 7

Be perfect!... [Error:#0234: WHAT CAN I LOSE]

⚜

I look at what I’ve written so far.

I remember recovery.

The hell I went through.

“Think of things other than your disorder.”

“It’ll help!”

That was a lie.

Every day.

Same thing.

Wake up.

Go to the bathroom.

Mirror.

Go downstairs.

Food.

Go to the bathroom.

Mirror.

Scale.

There was no escape.

Really I had to wipe the slate clean.

But I got there.

I smile.

I got there.

https://www.theprojectheal.org/kristinas-story/