The bad days are just that. Bad days. They pass, move onto the next person, because that’s what it does. It circulates around us like a black mist. You’re not alone and trust me, I’m no expert- I’m 15 and my life hasn’t even begun. I’ve learnt so many things I’m not sure what it was that led me to these first stages of recovery. But what do I know? I know that so much one life can bring us. So much happiness and sadness and laughter and tears and anger and love. I used to feel guilty for feeling miserably anxious all the time, like it was a choice I was making to be this person, but I felt like a shell of a person. I used to feel like I was the only one that thought like I did. That I was a misprint in the whole order of things. I was stuck in a self-identifying crisis and it made me feel hollow. Like I was nothing. No one. The emptiness inside made me feel I wasn’t worth looking after- and this is what I’d describe my plunge into anorexia nervosa. I was hurting in the beginning but when I stopped feeling all I wanted was that pain back. I didn’t feel like I was worth the trouble. But I had family, I had friends- and I’m not saying they were prefect with the whole situation, they were as confused as I was empty but they stayed by me through the whole dilemma. We need people, a community around us. Even introverts like myself. Because that’s what begin human is. Being there for each other. My mum came to talk to me one night and it was the first time we’d mention ‘it’ out loud. Anorexia nervosa. She told me I could make something of my situation. She said WHEN I got through it, not if, I could help people like myself who thought they were abnormalities in society but are actually one of the most common occurrence in society. We are insecure. I never thought I’d become what I was in those two years but pushing my past away wasn’t going to work, so really if I even only help one person through this message, it will help me in a way (selfish, I know right?) This is how I cope. This is who I am. I am a writer. I hate my feelings and am as good as a cardboard box when talking about my emotions, but writing? Proof in the pancake- is that the saying? What I’m trying to say is find something that you can escape to, evolve and lift yourself up, and build on yourself. We must experience the bad to truly know what good there is out there for us. We are not weak. This illness doesn’t define you. NEVER think you are nothing more than JUST your illness… you are SO much more. Your life can only get better, SO much better… so embrace your bad times. Make plans. Make changes. Discover yourself. And climb out of the bad times. Yes it may take time. But someone once told me when you take one day at a time, each day as a new beginning to create yourself, it gets a lot easier. I’d love to hear from anybody who has anything to say, even just to vent out everything on your mind, I’ll be there. Xx

P.s. here’s a little tip, just something I tell myself when I’ve had a truly crappy day (pardon my French):

“Be a pineapple, cause why the hell not? Stand Tall. Wear a crown, and be sweet inside. “

Jess

Email: jbogle739@c2kni.net

Facebook: Jessica Bogle

Snapchat: Jessie_bogle