I thought I'd write a post today on one of my friends, Mimi.
I've known her even since we were 4 but I rarely see her anymore.
Mimi had a tough upbringing and started to struggle with an eating disorder from when she was about 12.
But it was not just an eating disorder. Mimi had severe depression.
Every since I'd known her there was always something that wasn't quite right. She always panicked about being fat, despite being underweight, and always felt so low.
But she would try to stay positive.
A few years ago that stopped.
She didn't want to go out anymore. She just wanted to stay home all the time.
I didn't know what to do. I just told her not to worry, that she didn't have to come out if she didn't want to.
That was probably the worst thing I could have ever said.
A few years on Mimi now stays home every single day.
She developed agraphobia and hasn't left her house in almost a year.
Everyday she wakes up and does nothing. She's lost almost all of her friends.
I feel so terrible for her but in a way I'm angry at her.
She has had so much help offered, but she won't accept any of it.
She could get better, she just chooses not to.
Her story kind of makes me think; by not eating aren't I just choosing not to get better too?
In a way, by not eating I'm acting even worse than her.
I still have the motivation to help me recover, but she doesn't.
Seeing her makes me think of how my life would be if I didn't recover.
She's lost everything, and I would too.
I love her but I've given up hope that she will ever recover, she's too deep into the illness.
And if I don't work hard I'll become too deep into ana.
I have no excuses anymore.
Recovery is hard, but that's no reason to give up on it.
There's no choice to be made anymore; I have to recover.
I miss the times we had together :(
(she's in the middle in the red cardigan)