Swallowed my fear; where it will take me, nobody knows.

Sitting here alone today, I perched on the edge of my chair before my laptop. My new kitten, Astra, is sleeping in my lap. I hear the distant rumble of the television downstairs, presenting some violent action film that seems just a tad too plausible for my nonchalance. It is Sunday afternoon and the images of this week float around in my head like a swarm of angry bees tipsy off of hundred-day old wine. I cannot seem to stop one, even to analyze it, and it frustrates me to no end. The week began with the awful drone of another “holiday.” However, to my utter and complete relief (sort-of) my family did not have our usual family-get together. In our family, our gatherings consist of mounds upon mounds of food, drinks, and socializing. I always feel the stairs upon me as my family members watch my every move, wondering if I will finally go for my childhood favorite of the potato salad, or resort back to my corner, munching quietly on the carrot sticks I insist cutting up into tiny forkable bites. This year, though, my family stayed home, and grilled out on our porch. After much planning, I had restricted my intake that day just enough to be able to allow myself a few bites of lobster with my father. By the time dinner rolled around, however, I found myself ultimately unable to even go into the kitchen, eventually taking some medicine and going up off to bed. Tuesday went by in a blur. At this point, after much trying and calls, I came to the awful realization that residential treatment was out of the question: the cost was too much, no matter what financial offers the places could offer, because insurance was bound and determined to see to my illness. So, with a heavy heart and clouded mind, I called the numbers of the research universities my OP doctor had given me. After one-too-many questions, the monotonous voices of each facility rejected my eligibility, either for the factors of my age, level of need, or depression/self-harm activeness. Pathetically broken by the harsh reality of it all, I went to bed that night convinced of my inevitable death. My doctor’s appointment that afternoon had suited well in assuring these worries, as a concerned and slightly annoyed team of professionals chastised my severe dehydration, weight loss, and low heart rate. It was in these moments, however, that something hit me. I awoke and started rummaging through old and current photos, watching my transformation right before my eyes. I watched all the family/life moments I had missed out on, either out of the camera’s scope alone or sitting inside on the particular occasion. As I came across a picture from this year’s prom, one where my sisters and I are standing together in front of my mother’s flower bed, a crippling pain shot through my entire being. It is then that I decided I was going to fight, and sure enough, I had a plan. I started to make YouTube videos to document my battle, in hopes of further reaching out/inspiring those around the world. The amount of encouragement and support, the people whose stories I was told, and the utter inspiration from it all was so overwhelming, so surreal, that it helped me in insurmountable ways. I have currently been videoing my every day for four days now. Along with my videos, I have been talking to a number of people who are in desperate need, and helping them get the help they need has been my goal. I adopted a kitten yesterday, after deciding that taking care of something could really prove to my, and her, benefit. I went into this whole activism thing with the mindset that my problems would simply vanish away; I am finding to this to be unbelievably far from the truth. The past few days have been full of struggles, and the depression and self-harm still are burdening each hour, but my mindset has changed completely. I may not be making any progress in my weight or food consumption, but the fact that I am now focused and determined more than ever is progress in itself. That is something that I must admit. I am still very sick, and very, very weak, but I have hope now for the future—my future is set to save the lives of a lost world.

~ by candyshele1204 on June 3, 2012.

8 Responses to “Swallowed my fear; where it will take me, nobody knows.”

  1. I have been hoping and waiting for a new post from you. I am glad to see your words on the screen because that means you’re still fighting. Your focus is progress. I am extremely proud of you in your willingness to fight.

  2. There you go again, on the path which people are afraid to travel by, writing a story with each step that you take, a story that inspires many.

    You are a brave one, we all know it, and are proud of you. Your work on youtube and facebook for spreading awareness among people is really good and appreciated (all the comments that I saw on the two sites proves it).

    For one, you are afraid, but it is only human nature to be afraid, isn’t it? What matters more than that is your fight, and willingness to fight, which most of the people don’t have. That separates you from the others, and that is something for which you are loved and respected so much.

    Keep fighting, and whenever you feel weak, turn around and you will always find me standing right beside you, ready to strengthen you. You are not alone, and will never be alone.

  3. I too am proud of you! Keep fighting, it will be worth it. Your vision to help others is what will keep your fire burning to hang in there and get better.

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