I’m not going out without a fight.

Tomorrow morning I’m going to my first counseling appointment with a counselor of my choice who specializes in the areas I need help with most. Scared and anxious are words that don’t even do the situation justice. I’m beyond terrified, but I will be strong and I will not resist help like I’ve always done in the past. I wish I had just one person standing by my side, telling me I’m making the right choice and I will be okay, but I don’t. In the end we have ourselves and that has to be enough.

I have suicidal thoughts pretty much everyday that will not go away.
Each day college becomes a closer reality, my anxiety gets even more unbearable.
I’ve gone from weighing 127 to 121 just this week by restricting calories.
I’ve also thrown up more times in a week than I did in the entire first 16 years of my life.
I’ve cut myself because I wanted to control at least some of my pain.
I’ve kept it all a secret and I’ve taken special steps to cover it all up.

I need help. Whether I want it or not, I need it. Sitting in a room with a stranger telling them all of the above listed items sounds like Hell. Then again, continuing to live the way I have been, eating barely enough to stay alive and dreaming of death also sounds a lot like Hell. We all have the power to turn our lives around. It’s a hard concept, I struggle with it daily. I keep thinking I need to be skinnier and sicker before I get help, but why? My family doesn’t support me receiving counseling, they don’t acknowledge mental health in general. Just because they don’t support me doesn’t mean it can’t be done. I’m the one living with these problems, I know they are real, and it doesn’t make me weak for needing help.

I wish society knew what it was like to live wanting to die. I’m not crazy, a coward, illogical, weak, or stupid. I’m a fighter. Sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to do, that’s why I’m going to counseling.

So yeah, I’m scared, but it’s not going to stop me from recovering. I deserve to recover.