To my 10 year old self,
You’re gonna wake up some days in the morning and your body is gonna feel like all the blood has turned to lead. Your mind is gonna be foggy and you won’t feel anything except the stinging cuts on your thighs. These are the mornings that Mum is gonna hug you and sit with you in bed, stroking your hair.
There is going to be a time when you think you’ve messed up and that there’s no point to life anymore. Those are the times when your friends will come over with mint ice cream and you’ll all reminiscence about 8th grade field trips.
You’ll learn that everything doesn’t go according to the plan and the world is somehow upside down, and that somewhere along the way, you’re gonna trip and fall but when you finally do get up, it’ll all have been worth it.
I know it’s gonna be awhile before you look at an apple and see it as an apple and not 52 calories and a mile of walking. It’s gonna take some time before you realize that bones sticking out are not beautiful, just unhealthy. It isn’t okay to wake up every morning with your head spinning so much that you collapse right back onto the bed. Over time, your journal entries will become less obsessive. Maybe soon you can eat with your family instead of a “I’m not hungry” or ” I already ate” and a shrug of the shoulders.
But I swear to you, all the memories you made at 10 in the night with your best friend and all the secret 4 hour phone calls, and the breakfast-in-bed mornings, all the people you made smile and believe in you, all the goofy pictures that make you laugh each time, all the walks and the terrace meets and star gazing and new songs will get you through the day. Hour by hour. Minute by minute. Live in the moment.
I should have treated you better and I’m sorry I didn’t see that before but I promise you now that I will take care of my body and learn to turn a fake smile into a real smile. You’re so fucking smart, strong and beautiful and the world will always need someone like you. Don’t give up please.
Your 16 year old self.