by Katie Anderson
When I found that self-harm was no longer “enough” pain, that’s where you came in. You seemed inviting at first, like you were going to help me through the emotional hell I was suffering in. You lied to me. You told me this was just another way to lock away the past. Another way to hurt and mutilate my body. I loved you, but you hated me from the start. I didn’t think you would take over my life and my thoughts, but you did. There was no way to please you, the only time I would be pretty enough for you was if I was lying in my casket.
You have stolen my family, my friends, and my will to live. I wanted to die because of you. You made me skip out on lunch with my friends, on holidays with my family, and popcorn at movies. If I wasn’t done with your crap you would have eventually taken away my breath. I’m not ok with that fact. You could have killed me, but that doesn’t matter to you. You only cared about how tiny my waist was. You didn’t care that when I walked I could not breathe.
If it weren’t for you I could have gone out to eat. If it weren’t for you the nurse wouldn’t have caught me. If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t spend 20 hours a week going to treatment, and I wouldn’t have to explain to my teachers that I didn’t do my homework because I was getting help for my eating disorder. I’d be able to go on bike rides and go swimming with my friends, and you couldn’t tell me that I looked too fat to wear something. You could not say that I wasn’t good enough because I would love myself for once.
You have such a tight rope around me that I still don’t know if I should keep you around or not. I like that you kept me from cutting, but you hurt me in so many other ways. It physically hurt to have you around, and emotionally drained me of life. I turned into a hollow shell, the only thing about me that remained the same was my hair, but even that eventually started to fall out. My nails broke off and my skin paled. I felt my life slowly slipping through my fingers. I thought I was going to die because of you. The sad part is I was ready for death to drag me away from your cruel grasp.
You have ruined my life and just in the course of writing this I have realized something. I’m done. I am done with you controlling my life and trying to maim my body. I know I am beautiful. I might not feel beautiful, because you are a parasite that attached itself to my thoughts and still hang around me, but I know I am. You fed off my insecurities and made me feel incomplete, and now it’s your turn. I hereby disown you. You no longer control me. I declare my independence from your atrocious ways. I now resent you, and am proud to say I am content knowing you are now deceased. Good riddance.