I have this friend, her name's Alexandria. She'd kill me if I she knew I put that. Let's call her Al, she likes it better. She's a lesbian, and we dated. She said she fell in love with me, and she was good at forming lies quickly. We broke up, were on and off for a while, and now we're best friends. It still stings a little when I see her with her new girlfriend- she's a player. She tells every girl she dates that she loves them, then just completely throws everything away. Anyway, we're friends. And she jokes around a lot- calls me fat and a whore and stuff. And I try desperately to act like it doesn't hurt, and some times I can get myself to say it back. Cause honestly, even though she's joking, it hurts. I struggled with my weight, even though I'm around 100 lbs. I was anorexic with bulimic tendencies, and I almost died because of it.
Yeah, I know what you're thinking. "This chick's 15, and she's already attempted suicide(twice), and has been anorexic? So young to be depressed." Yeah, I get that a lot. Depression doesn't put a specific age limit on itself.

Let me tell you- it sucks.

It creeps up on me when I least expect it- and BAM- I have a meltdown. Anyway, back to the story. I really struggled. I had a tumblr, and I posted pictures of myself. I got so many anonymous messages telling me how fat and ugly I was. How I should kill myself. It tore me apart, and at some point, it managed to break me down enough to be anorexic.
Anorexic with bulimic tendencies- that's how my doctor described it when we talked. I was put in the hospital after passing out at school. They had me in there for a little over a month with a feeding tube. And then I went to a psychiatric hospital- which I then went back to several more times after that. I starved myself, and sometimes I ate so much and then threw it all up. And I would go to school, scared to talk to people, the voices told me I was too fat to talk to them. Wasn't good enough.

And then, I was diagnosed with mild schizophrenia. I was labeled crazy at my school.

And she know that I struggled. So why on earth would she joke about it? She knows my whole story, and that's what scares me. She knows.
I don't get why she doesn't realize she's hurting me all over again. Let me tell you this-

Even if it's a joke, it might hurt someone more than you know.

                                                                             Sanely Yours,


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