I swore I would never do this.

I swore I would never do because I thought anyone who did do this is just aching for attention. And I also thought this because with any amount of weight I lost it would never be enough. I still needed to do more. I would never look good.

But yesterday I met up with a cousin of mine that I haven't seen in two years. I opened the front door to the house and she screamed at me. I asked what was wrong. And she said "Oh my god. Look at you!" I never really bothered because I am so embarrassed and ashamed. Actually, I down right hate myself. But later on, I went to the bathroom and looked. Turning front ways and sideways. I know I have lost some weight but never saw the difference. To me I still looked like that girl 12 years ago that weight almost 400 pounds. Miserable, suicidal, angry and starving for affection.

Looking now, I still can't get past that image. The struggle of trying to walk in the store and having to sit down on the floor because my hips were giving out of me. My swollen purple feet. My herniated back. The boils and rashes under the folds of my skin from lack of air. And mostly, starting that eating disorder. No one could believe a 300+ pound person could be making themself throw up every day. Who would believe that? I wasn't loosing any weight. But at the time I started, I wasn't gaining anymore either. I was cutting myself and allowing people to hurt me. I wanted to punish myself because I thought that was what I deserved. I created my life, and if people think I deserve to feel this way – then I guess I should feel it full blast.

I can’t calculate how much weight I have lost. I have lost and gained it all back in pieces. Some from starvation, fad diets, not caring anymore if I live or die and then trying. And then gaining it all back again.

I have been going to therapy since I was ten years old. It never did me any good because I could never find someone to understand me. And I absolutely hated that I was PAYING someone to listen to me. Everything hurt more. It still does. But now I'm learning to let it all go. I don't know if it's the meds I am on now, but I am not that angry anymore. I am not thinking of ways to kill myself. I haven't cut myself in over a year. I still hold grudges to people that deserve them. But for some people, I have finally decided to give up with the idea that you can't change anyone to better your own life. They are going to be who they are no matter how much it hurts you. (Thank you, Dad, for teaching me that.)

I want to move on. I finally want to live. Before I never gave a damn about my health. Now I do. Because now I feel better. I don't hurt and ache as much. I can breathe. I want a life.

<]http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e51/abbycory/CAM00085.jpg&gt;
383 pounds

<http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e51/abbycory/girlietat.jpg&gt;
280 pounds

<http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e51/abbycory/june2011.jpg&gt;
312 pounds

<http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e51/abbycory/CAM00042.jpg&gt;
235 pounds

<http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e51/abbycory/91212018.jpg&gt;
Today.

Edit - I used to be good at this HTML crap. Forget it. Things have definitely changed.