It seems impossible to believe, but it’s been half a year (plus a week) since I first acknowledged that I had anxiety and depression and actively decided to both seek and receive help for them. At first I hesitated to make any kind of post, since recently my struggles with my eating disorder combining with greatly exacerbated levels of anxiety and depression as a result, made me feel like I didn’t deserve to do so. But then I realized how strong a testament to how amazingly I’m fighting back against these mental disorders that really is. Some days are damn near impossible to get through. Some days all I want to do is curl up and cry or just go numb and stop feeling. And some days I do. But other days I power through the pain. I push away the darkness, the fears, the shadows, and the hurt, and I fight. And I am immensely proud of myself for doing that, not just today, but every day for the past half a year. Especially recently due to the added complications anorexia brings. It’s not easy, not at all. But I am working and battling constantly to become happier, healthier, and to accept the help I need. I’ve had ups and I’ve had downs. I’ve had highs and I’ve had lows. But most importantly, I continually strive for progress, and I’m really proud of myself for that. Even and exceptionally more so today, as I write this to you from the back of an ambulance headed to BI for rehydration and possible readmission. I will never stop fighting my hardest to conquer my mental demons.