Reliving Moments

I'm going to preface this by saying that this blog hasn't had a post in almost two years. So, I am running on the assumption that nobody is going to read what I write next. But if you are reading this...that's okay. I'm choosing to put it on the internet.

When I was 9/10 my grandfather was really sick and lived in my basement. One day I went downstairs to try and find my mom. My basement has two parts to it and they were in the back part where he was living. I can still picture them fighting. They were yelling. I was standing behind the tiny pole in the front part. It's one of those times that you don't feel like you can move from your place. I remember hearing my poppy crying that he wanted to die. He wanted to kill himself. He didn't want his grandchildren to see him that way. He wanted to be with my grandma. My mom was yelling back at him that if he killed himself, she wouldn't bury him next to my grandma. She sounded so mad. But she was crying too. She turned around at that point and I thought she saw me so I ran. I knew I wasn't supposed to have heard that. Another day, I was in the kitchen and my poppy was in the family room eating popcorn. He started choking and coughing. One of the staples in his head popped out. My mom yelled for me to bring paper towels because his head was bleeding. I can still remember squinting so I wouldn't see too much of it while handing her the towels. It was so scary. I thought he was going to die. An ambulance came and took him away. After a while, ambulances became normal. They came a lot before school. He would fall or nobody would be able to get him out of the basement. I found out he was sick the day after my ninth birthday. He had a really bad headache on my birthday and the next day, my mom took him to the hospital. I was having my birthday party in the basement when my mom came and told me that he had a brain tumor. I remember pulling one of my best friends at the time aside and telling her. It was weird. The only other moment that I can picture in my head is the day he passed away. My whole family was sitting in his room at the assisted living place that he was living in. I had made friends with a couple of other kids there and when they stood by the door, I waved them in. Like any other ten year old would. My aunt got really mad and told me to leave the room. That night he was gone. I can only hope that he knows how much I love him.

At this point, I can't actually write anymore because I can't see through my tears.... so yeah.

I Like To Play Model With My Friends

This is one of the first times in forever that I felt truly comfortable in front of a camera. And I actually really like these photos. It sucks because I know I've gained weight since I took them. But idk. Things are never what they seem I guess.

Petition

Hi everyone! I would really appreciate you considering signing this petition that my friend and I put together. Only as a group can we get "Red Band Society" and its harmful messages about eating disorders off the air.

https://www.change.org/p/fox-broadcasting-company-remove-red-band-society-from-primetime-television-3?just_created=true

Stay Strong
xo Aria

There Is Nothing Beautiful Left

It is 11 pm on Sunday night. Midterms start tomorrow. Most of my friends are pulling all nighters to study for the tests they are worried sick over. But me? I'm pulling an all nighter. But not to study for my midterms. I'm staying up because my body physically won't sleep. It's shaking and freezing. The physical showing of the racing of my mind. I ate three meals and two snacks today. I haven't done that in a week. I never planned on doing it again. I planned on starving for as long as my body would hold out. But today I didn't have that option.  I had to eat. And now I can't sleep. Because there is nothing beautiful left. I lost a friend tonight. Not physically. She's still here, doing whatever it is that she does. But I had the wonderful opportunity to find out that she had been lying to me to make me feel better. Because she thought that lying was better than being honest. And when I called her on it, she pulled the card that she has been busy "navigating her own mental issues". Which struck me because when she needed me to save your life after he overdose, I didn't turn her down or any other time she needed help because I have my own issues. No. I did more research to be able to help her more. But you see, there is nothing beautiful left. My brother took time tonight to call me a fucking bitch. To point out how much time he wasted caring about me. To tell me how my eating disorder has ruined his life. It drove me to almost breaking my 23 months of being self-harm free. That is right. Tonight, I was completely ready to tear open my body. I didn't care. I still don't. I want control. I want to feel something. I want to be in charge of who gets to hurt me. And the only person who an do that is me. There is nothing beautiful left. There is nothing beautiful in an 18 yr. old girl staying up all night because she ate, She should be staying up for last minute cramming. But she can't. She's too busy adding calories and shaking out of sheer panic. There is nothing beautiful about a body that has dropped its pulse to below 60 and it's body temperature just to maintain basic functions. There is nothing beautiful about anorexia or about relapse. There is nothing beautiful about the destruction of friendship. The destroying of trust. The lack of regard for those who trust too easily. The fact that is okay for friendships to be one-sided. There is nothing beautiful about brothers hating their sisters. There is nothing beautiful about self-harm. Feeling an intense need to see your own blood, to cause your own pain  or to need to have that much control. There is no beauty in self-destruction. There is nothing beautiful about any of this. There is nothing beautiful left in this world. I should be studying and partying and having fun. But instead I shake and go to therapy and have to worry about numbers. There is nothing beautiful about this. Nothing.


I take it back, there is some beauty. here is the beauty in that I am alive and all my friends that are suffering are fighting their hardest. There is beauty because we refuse to let it all fade away. There is beauty because we fight the darkness every day we open our eyes and eat breakfast

The three musketeers

Beautiful by Bethany Dillon

(on a side note, I hate thunderstorms...so when my eyes get big...yeah...)

I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO

Things are going wrong at the moment.

- school (I'm basically failing half my classes)
- religion (I'm eating on Yom Kippur)
- recovery (I was literally just told that I'm a hopeless case)

I don't know what to do anymore. Part of me really really wants to go away to treatment and get away from everything and focus on myself. Hell. I don't even want to be in college right now. I never wanted to go from high school directly to college. But that's life. So here I am. Assignments are taking me twice as long as they are supposed to. My mind is beyond tired. I'm working. I'm practicing. I'm trying to keep some sanity. But it's not working. I can't just up and leave life tho. I've made commitments to myself and to other people. My team doesn't think I need treatment. So obviously I don't. Ugh. I feel guilty as fuck for eating today. Like it's not even remotely allowed. And just no. A therapist basically pointed out how history proves I can't recover. Which really didn't help my slightly ambivalent mindset. I just want to sleep. I want everything to stop. I want to be back in high school and just be a student and a gymnast. And I was actually offered a semi opportunity like that. But it's in Texas. And that doesn't work. I don't know what to do anymore. I really need a hug and someone to talk to. Or something like that. Asdfghjkl. Oh and to top it all off, someone in class the other day asked if I knew that I am what every American should want to be. Which apparently meant "smart, skinny, pretty and athletic". Look at that a pure bred American. Awesome. It was an awful conversation.