My Past.

My facebook status at the moment reads:

"I've learned a lot in the past few years, most importantly that I am not ashamed of my past. You can judge me for it, make assumptions about me, or even lose complete interest in knowing me, but I'm not embarrassed anymore. I have overcome great struggles and completely changed as a person into someone I can be proud of and respect. My past has made me stronger and incredibly awesome."

I just thought I'd lead this post with that statement, because it's the truth. I feel like I have spent my college career hiding my past and everything that I've been through. While I still maintain a few secrets because I really just do not want the world to know about them, my biggest issues I've realized are not something that I'm ashamed of.

I have Bipolar 2, OCD, anxiety, and EDNOS, as obviously everyone who reads this blog knows. When I first got extremely sick my freshman year of college, it was the biggest secret in the world, yet of course, everybody knew. Back then, since I was so sick, people were concerned with getting me the help I needed, but I also felt repeatedly judged as they would talk about me behind my back and one of my friend's would make jokes about it. She wasn't making the jokes to be cruel; that's just how she handles her feelings. It still hurt though.

I was trained then to consider my eating disorder and other mental conditions as something of which to be ashamed. I fought to hide my problems and fear them, especially as I reached huge steps in my recovery. It seemed as though whenever someone, especially a romantic interest, found out about these problems, they lost interest. My boyfriend of three and a half years could not handle my mood swings and my, lack of a better word, insanity. I'm not insane, but I felt it and I know he considered me to be it. The next guy I dated, never a boyfriend, talked to me all of the time, even from across an ocean. I went into treatment during this time period and felt compelled to tell him, as it was a huge part of my life. In retrospect, it was probably the overwhelming amount of letters and other signs that pushed him away, but I convinced myself it was because he couldn't handle an eating disorder. I went through a bunch of problems with one guy, and it pushed him away. My next boyfriend realized that I was weaker than he thought and more emotional, not this fun-loving strong girl. He thought he could handle my issues, but he couldn't. A boy I went on a few dates with this summer suddenly lost interest upon seeing my recovery posters.

I've mentioned all of these issues before and I realize that chances are, it wasn't the eating disorder that pushed them away. We just weren't meant for each other.

I even had a friend who used what she knew about my eating disorder to hurt me. It was more than something to be ashamed of; it became a weapon for the other side.

I think we all consider our eating disorders to be somewhat of a secret illness. There is such a negative stigma revolving around them. People with them are thought to be vain, stupid, weak, impressionable, insane, and just plain crazy. I think we all think that way about ourselves sometimes too, but we also know better.

I know that the people I've lost did not necessarily disappear because of me. However, even if they did, that doesn't make it my fault or my problem. If they couldn't handle my past and my issues and my struggles, then I didn't want them in my life anyway. Marilyn Monroe said it best: "If you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best."

We are so fucking strong and incredible, all of us who battle different disabilities and diseases. We keep going and try so fucking hard. No one who hasn't been here can even begin to realize what it is like to live day after day looking in the mirror and seeing a stranger, or having these voices in your head shouting insults and lies at you. We have to learn to ignore and suppress these voices and these urges and these images so that we can better ourselves. And we are amazing! We have other problems that have led to our eating disorders and we do our best to cope with whatever has happened in our past. It is not our fault and we should not be ashamed. We should be proud of ourselves and recognize our illnesses and do our best to fight them so that everyone else can be proud of us too and learn the truth about this horrible disease.

I am writing this because I was drinking Saturday night and, as I so usually do when I drink (which is why I don't very often anymore), I spilled this intimate secret about myself. About how I had to go to the hospital and get help because I was sick and I wasn't eating and I had a mental breakdown and I thought I was going to die one night. I shared all of this and it was terrifying, even as I was doing it. I was terrified that I was scaring people away or losing friends or losing a future. But why? This is who I am. Not my eating disorder, no. I am most certainly not my eating disorder, nor does it define me. But my eating disorder is way too big a part of my life to pretend never existed. I would never be who I am today without it.

So ladies and gentlemen, embrace your past and be proud of yourself. Use it to make you stronger, and don't hide behind it anymore. You are glorious.