I'm continuing to learn all the time. It’s a journey of healing and I’m glad I am on it.
I was in the midst of an eating disorder, and no one seemed to be able to see a thing.
I have accepted my mental illness does not define me.
I can finally say I’m happy to be here.
I’m much stronger than my mind tries to trick me into believing.
I think of my diagnosis as a best friend.
I’ve lost everything and everyone over and over.
Everything in my psyche and soul said, “ENOUGH.”
I was afraid to be alone; I didn’t feel strong enough to be alone.
I can’t be depressed while I help someone else.
Little did I know that this was the painful beginning of becoming a new person.
I’m grateful to finally be calm and grounded in my body and in my mind.
What does a child have to be depressed about at eight years old?
Everybody saw what was happening, yet nobody said anything.
I knew something was wrong when I started waking up before 6 am full of energy.
I was my own worst enemy before the diagnosis.
Life was really good. Until it wasn’t.