okay here is my writing

[dreamer]

my second book appears to not be happening so I am putting my pieces here please don't steal them!!!!:cry: these are not meant to offend anyone I hope you like them they will also be published on my blog

there are many different styles


these are my letters to God there will be other pieces if you lik these

Dear God,
Why am I alive today? So many people need your help. Shadows and embers of life, do you remember them? My friend Essie has gone to the hospital and day treatment three times, How can that be when I have the energy to transition through the system and thrive though cut short? How can you justify choosing who must visit hell from time to time and who must take up permanent residence? I would gladly replace any of the people there, I have a family, I have strength, I can succeed where others would die. You are content to watch unmoving.
I was introduced to the near perfect, beautiful, Shania Twain. Yet it has cost me, I have met hatred and judgment, name calling, and cruelty. I only become more loving, devoted, and respectful. Shania has taught me self pride, joy and true gratefulness for life. Shania has given me reason to live and joy while doing so. I have tried for seven years to thank her in person and have used all she has taught me to no avail. I have stood for hours screaming and waving to her, written letters, Shared the glory that is Shania with friends and “enemies,” even wrote a book hoping she would see the sparking speck on her horizon that is me, but I am barely a twinkle. I have prayed every night for years, when I am not sure I even believe in you. I force belief despite the disloyalty, stupidity, and awkwardness I feel in any church I want to believe you will keep those I cherish safe for me so that I don't have to worry about the dark reality where I am. I put my soul into my dream....I am a bug yet, no more.
Why do people feel the need to pray for me because I am disabled? I cannot say I jump for joy at the fact, but I am in no deadly pain and I am able to greet Most days with optimism if not joy. I have a wacky family but I have one. I am happy with who Misty Nichols is becoming, I have talent, I have dreams, and I have the determination to reach them. Cerebral Palsy has granted me grace and wisdom and I don't need a great deity to take that from me. I have met ignorant people but for each ignorant judgmental person I meet I meet ten kind ones. How many people live in a world where such beautiful things never existed.
I see people who have dreams met with a snap of their fingers, and others with kind sweet souls suffer endlessly. Then there is me. I await hope, a taste of reason to believe in a God. I await the glorious light that is holy enlightenment. It is still pitch black here.

Misty Spring Nichols

2:

Dear God,
Still no sign from you. I would think you were busy but you're omnipotent so that really doesn't work. I have to expand further on the concept of a “God” and why I find it hard to take to heart. Maybe I'm wrong but I've yet to have any major epiphany, feel free to send one my way if I am wrong, I'll be here.
I only enter a church when it is required and I am happy to say that I have had happy occasions along side sad ones to be in a church. Every time I enter I sit feeling awkward and ignorant. I cannot believe a god created me because that requires that all my moments of pride, each day I finish is a result not of my work but of a great god. When I got burned three years ago I made the choice to go to school the next day. God may have given me the chance to face that but I dealt with the horrible pain each day. I cannot stand the thought that I am strong only because of another, I could've made different choices. No god inhabited my body or mind to guide me to those choices, Misty Nichols did that, not god. I have gone through this life making good choices and if those are the result of God does that mean my mistakes are too? No, is it the devils work? I am willing to take all the good and bad consequences for my actions, and yeah, I make a lot of mistakes! I also do a lot right, God or no.
There is my second point, God can be explained or created in anyone's mind anyway they want, hence at least twenty religions in the world. Why would you allow such things? I cannot see it as a test of our commitment to you, it is said that your son died for us so that we may be forgiven our sins, so you need not test us, just give us the one correct path to follow and your herd would obey correct? So even if there are those human beings who truly would not follow, could you not peer into their souls and see their destiny to avoid the seemingly needless work? After all, you are all powerful.
Perhaps my most pressing concern is this world itself. Why would you create a world with so much pain? What is the point of putting anyone one this earth and then removing them before they could leave a mark? If you want them with you as children then why not spare them and do not introduce them to this place? I see so much of that, and as with every other human I try and put it into terms I understand and can except, that requires me to think that no god would be so cruel, yet life remain so.
I guess it comes down to this I WANT to believe in you, I want to think that if I do good and believe in a higher power that will love me and give me life eternally. Then again I see such horrors as dark as this world can offer and I can't help but wonder, if this is what god's most treasured creations get, why do I want to participate in his plan and encourage further pain with the mistakes I will make? If we are loved than why must the innocent suffer so? No human can legally treat another that way, why should he? And my stomach turns.

Misty Spring Nichols
3:

Dear God,
Why do you make life so confusing? I don't know whether to be hopeful or suicidal, My life seems to be a pattern of self created hells and ultimate joys that come whether I am ready or not. The irony is not lost on me. I seek control in an effort to find happiness, and in doing so lose what little I have, further harming myself. Happiness is much like time, it has a will of its own and therefore I have no control over it. So in a jigsaw dance the pieces slide where they will and I must wait by the seat of my pants to know peace and joy.
I get it, I learned the lesson. May I please have some consistency now? It doesn't need to be elation, I'll settle for normality, getting up in the morning without nightmares chasing me into the daylight just feeling like today is as worthy as any other.
I am left wondering if you read my last correspondence... I would hope you have and by giving me two wonderful days this week you intended to give me hope, I will accept your hope but I am weary. It was only three days prior that I was fighting to prevent self starvation...AGAIN! It is funny that you created humans to be so cynical, needed a challenge? Or would admitting that insult your omnipotence? Regardless, I pray and write to you tonight, On the off chance you're at home.

Misty Spring Nichols
4:
Dear God,
While believing in you is difficult I must wonder, why would the story come to light if not based on something, millions believe it, doesn't that count for anything? Then again we are humans, greatly flawed and at risk of falling pray to to our own ignorance...and selfishness.
Looking at the concept from a human point of view as I feel is justified as it is my reality, Humanity WANTS a God to exist for our own good. The concept of God is generally accepted as part of the human moral compass. Since humans are filled with competitive nature we lack trust of one another, for good reason or not, that lack of trust and reason therefore leads to the epiphany that we are in constant danger, not only from the other creatures in our environment but from our own, I am reminded of the philosopher John Locke...If I am not mistaken he believed that humanity acts on the basis of the self interests of each individual. That is our biggest flaw and at the same instant our only hope, Self interest causes conflict, pain, and demolition, While giving justification for unity, to preserve our species and give protection from ourselves among all other manner of living things. Who's to say however, that after gaining all one individual can from another willingly they cannot gain through division of that bond or threat thereof? God. “if you strike me down I will enter a plain of joy and power you could never imagine, wit h all mighty God at my side. Meaning that the violator of aforementioned bond, would stand to pay a greater price for short term gain then it is worth, the idea of God is a concept of fear and jealousy. Humans have set a standard for one another however it is impossible to meet, because it's definition is perhaps unconsciously worked around there flaws. This makes it easier to use fear as a motivational tool, I cannot stand the thought of being burned, because I am not powerful enough to control fire and the pain brought by it, I am afraid of it. Whoever created this place, (“who” is used because we think in terms of humanity, hence we are the most powerful creatures on earth, if the world were created by a “what” we are again put in danger because “what” has no loyalty to humanity, natural God is somehow a manure full of all good things to grow human plants with, all plants are different, however they know that without each other there is no way to be granted any manure, preventing growth and spread of our kind.) We must be good to one another or in the big picture or, we will suffer by God. We often make mistakes leading us to change God into one who would accept us with our newfound distortions but it is understood that God doesn't accept behavior that is harmful to specified people and their beliefs, and as further benefit he rewards the maintenance of such. I suppose it speaks to humanity's creativity if you are a falsity, or our discipline if you are not.
I marvel and wonder as to how a simple story has been made into art with each new and more “correct” telling, I fear that we will soon trade our books of math, theory, and health in for books of blind hope, your place in history remains necessary, but it has been tainted by humanity and whatever separates us from you covers your name.
God is a dirty word now. We are divided by our God(s), I am right and those who use a different language to speak with you should die, not easily either! The poor be damned now, they've yet to pay the pastor! Should not a servant of God be granted all they need to live, as well as a certain special place beyond words? If you have granted them such would they be so driven to blood drenched human desires, have you not forbade such? Without heeding to your words to the best of our ability how is one worthy. Is not a true priest already the richest man, granted that most precious gifts of God,his ear, his hope?
I await your hope as I pray nightly to my precious doggy if there is any testament to your existence, it is in her eyes... I await clarity on these matters, I ask not out of distrust but the yearnings and convulsing of my eager, pained heart. forgive me for my sins, but I know you can see that these are honest questions, I am sure I will sin further in the days to come but I will continue reaching for the light instead of the darkness...I just await your lantern.
Misty Spring Nichols

let me know if you want more

[SevenUp!]

Wow Misty!! Thanks for sharing your thoughts, your feelings, your hopes, your fears, and your dreams with all of us!! You're incredible....and if you want to post more, I will surely love to read it too. :love::hugs:

[dreamer]

thank you Robert!!!:hugs:maybe I am grouchy but I wanted more feedback from people here(Robert excluded obviously:love: ):sad:

[SevenUp!]

Awww....you're welcome Misty!!:hugs: Give the rest of the people around here a little more time, and I'm sure they'll want to read it too. Not to single them out, but I'm sure Julia and Jenna will read it and have something to say soon enough....they just weren't around much the last couple of days is all.

[dreamer]

I know I will have more in 3 minutes

[dreamer]

School and academics are easy I do what is asked of me at the highest quality I can muster. I could do everything in twenty minutes with one eye closed. Except math, I was always a year ahead of my peers but I had to work hard for my B, all those late nights of confusion. The concepts required all my mind working and half of my dad's as well and I was often left feeling drained and drowning. I had no control. At my extremes I've considered bleeding to death, medication overdose, and getting hit by a car. Yet I am still here.
I'm insane but that runs in the family, when I'm happy it leads to stories about Can-Can dancing Christmas hat cowboy ghosts, when I'm upset it leads to vengeful pain. When I started high school and felt out of control of my life I cut myself. I often went into rants about how I'd been wronged planning out the letter I would leave my wrong doers after I died. The majority of the time a woman named Teddy was the subject of my rants, she thought I was ignorant and couldn't take care of myself. As a result she went through my bag and fanny pack and threw things she deemed unimportant away without allowing me any say to get me “organized” and told me I couldn't use things anymore because she didn't like how they worked. She left me sobbing as she did this and told me that I shouldn't be so rude as to yell at her afterward. Weeks later after I refused to let an aid brush my hair because I had done so already she was going to force me to let her brush my hair and told me I had no choice. (Until after hearing my sobs her boss made her leave my hair alone.) On the nights like when she went through my things and threw many away and got away with it I cried and planned to cut words into my arms so Teddy would see them on my corpse and know that she was the one who brought me down. I cut myself on the top of my right wrist once, six small scratches because the knife was dull. One day I would bleed.
Deep in my Anorexia anything my Dad cooked sent me into a spiral of shame, anger, fear, confusion, anxiety and tears. I could not quantify what would go into my body, somehow I had committed a crime worse then murder so I would sit in my bedroom wracked with a guilt I could not explain. In the beginning when my father still tried to use his logic to ease my mind, he often asked, “What will you do?” The only thing I could think to say was disappear, I didn't want to be there anymore, I didn't want to even be. In that state of mind, as I was more often then not I entertained that thought. It never mattered how I stopped existing, I even acknowledged that the life I led was killing me. Upon the onset of this experience I have never intended it as a means of suicide at all but the thought was comforting and I have no doubt given the time I would have succumbed to those thoughts and acted on them. All I needed was to reach the pills on my desk. I often counted all the pills, sometimes anti depressants, sometimes others, I liked holding all of them. Every time I held them I thought about an article I'd read about a teenage girl who snuck into the medicine cabinet in at her house she found some prescription heart medication and took the whole bottle. Immediately afterward she told her mother, she went to the hospital and got her stomach pumped, and still she died.
I was lucky to get treatment for my Anorexia In the sense that I am at least alive, but that leaves me no choice but to learn how to cope with it. Ironically Anorexia was a coping tool I used to deal with how out of my control my life felt. Now I don't have that, I can't, and I have to cope with Anorexia and my control issues. The two don't mix. I start to imagine the wonderful release I would feel after being hit by a car. When I feel out of control I get angry and vengeful. If people won't listen to what I have to say I'll leave my blood on their hands, give them something tangible that they cannot ignore or misinterpret. I know why I do it, and that gives me some power but not enough to stop, . However I am uneasy, I have seen my power, and how easily one motion could snowball into its own entity bringing me along for the ride.

[dreamer]

these are in no order and you can share them if you want but they are my work......my life...

Awkward can't even describe it. I was siting in “school” one morning and an eleven year old girl started talking to me. She had cancer, she told me making her bald head make sense. She had gone home but had to come back because her temperature had gone to high after treatment. Here I am sitting at this table, feeling no pain or fear I was bored as hell I wanted to go home. This girl could well die here, and she was in a better mood then I. All I had to do was eat.
The first twenty-four hours I was in the hospital after I took the zyprexa were the hardest. I was happy and even hungry. I ate and talked and even apologized to those I felt I had hurt. I remembered myself for the first time in what seemed like centuries but for the majority of most days I was alone. I didn't know what to do with emotion anymore let alone pleasure. I couldn't groove out to my Shania music because it would take to much energy and thanks to the heart monitor the nurse would know. I couldn't even leave my hospital room for many days so I waited constantly looking at the clock waiting for each meal,or my medication and sleep. I took part when I finally could in hospital bingo and some other mandatory activities but never spent more than two and a half hours a day out of my room and that was only after I had waited a week. Even as I ate one meal I calculated how long until the next. I felt bad when I enjoyed the food but there was no way I could avoid eating. When my dad visited he taught me to play solitaire and we talked. I tried to play when the voice in my mind mocked me. Often Dad brought me things from civilization, letters, a school spirit shirt I'd been trying to get for a month prior and my pride and joy my first award for being on a school sports team, we placed 2nd at state which ironically I missed in order to start treatment. I could not have contact with anyone except my father and my aunt accept through letters that I hated writing. nonetheless I wrote. What the hell else could I do?
Then there were the meals. sometimes I was fine, other times I cried. The first meal happened to be one which caused me to do the latter, half a PBJ and fruit pieces, damn peanut butter my ultimate vice! I remembered coming home from school feeling starved and going straight for the peanut butter! I didn't even use a spoon, I did one hundred and twenty extra push ups that day bringing my total to three hundred. I hated evil fatty peanut butter! Medication helped sooth my nerves but it never quieted them completely. I had thirty minutes to eat and I never got to choose what I ate, fish Fridays, taco Thursdays, week in and week out. The only change was the gradual increase in the amount I ate as my body could tolerate more. Depending on what phase I was on I ate in my room at first, and later moved to a conference room with at first one other anorexic girl named Sara but the number soon multiplied. Then there was the nurse sitting there watching us sometimes the nurse would fraternize while I sat stone still. it was easy to tell how long someone had been there by the way the nurses addressed us. Our meals were meant for 8:30AM, 12:00PM, *3:00PM,* for those who had started snack, and 6:00PM but they were always late because the nurses were so busy. I will never forget one night during dinner the nurse watching us was asked to do something and she said, “I can't I'm with the Anorexics.” For the record our names are, Sara, Sarah, Misty, and Erin thank you. During the middle of dinner every Monday or Friday night I would see my dad pass the conference room, that was my saving grace.
Sleep I've always loved it, it is like getting to be dead and then changing my mind and being a part of the world again, peaceful. But even on the best of nights sleep was elusive, even if I got past the noise and the strange room and bed. Night was sometimes more active then daylight hours. During the first twenty - four hour period every six had blood draws and even with an IV it often took more then one jab per shot. And who could forget vitals? sometimes at 4:30AM others later, we got completely undressed including underwear, checked blood pressure, once laying down once standing (or sitting up for me) with a five minute pause, temperature, and the piece de resistons: weight check! Into my wheelchair I climbed and in came the large metal wheelchair scale because it was in proper for me to us the bar to stand. (because I wasn't allowed to exercise my body had went into repair mode and the resolve that drove me in the prior months was no longer enough to hold me up) I often peaked at the readout, it was in kilos so I never knew my exact weight but it was obvious when it at first fell further because I couldn't eat enough to keep up with my supercharged metabolism. Dr. O'tool said this was because my body was so starved it was in survival mode using whatever it was given in an attempt to sustain what little muscle I still had and she added, it will slow down but unfortunately no one knew when. When it did rise finally I knew I was afraid and part of me wanted to move sometimes I planned it out snapping my fingers, shanking my head I didn't care. It never happened, at least not near the nurse Ironically I often had to shimmy back into the bed on my stomach because I was unable to get my butt back on and they couldn't lift an eighty pound me, I often grimaced to myself as I felt my heart beat faster and faster “Isn't this what I shouldn't do?” I wondered and laughed in silence. In retaliation for indulging in my sick moments of joy, the wires that were attached to my stomach and chest to monitor my heart often began pealing and it was hellish. In one sentence, dry rubber cement on a hairy arm with a sunburn pulling hard. It was nearly as heart wrenching when they were reattached! Oh anticipating pain! Before I found a rhythm I had to get out of bed to take advantage of going to the bathroom while the opportunity was on the horizon. The bathroom was always locked to prevent people from purging (forcibly throwing up.) There was no way to tell whether it would be thirty minutes or four hours before I saw my nurse again so I would often sit ten minutes until I went three drips. No this was not an excuse to do another shimmy shake I was to tired for that and to weak and once I was used to the routine I planned ahead. It is never possible to get enough sleep.
Through those mo laces days, the the tightrope meals and the obstacle course nights I still can't shake the image of that eleven year old girl from my mind or my heart. I find comfort from her despite my cautious curiosity about her whereabouts, If she can face the threat of death without any control over when where or why it might occur perhaps I can make the choice to control mine.

[SevenUp!]

Thanks Misty....I'll read it all tomorrow. :hugs::love:

[Troll]

Great stuff Misty

[greek fanatic]

that is so brave of you Misty to letting us all know so much about you.i'm moved by your righting you sound like a really bright girl,you are right about our Faith in God besides we are only humans.
i hope everything will turn out good in you life,i also hope that if there's a God will hear you prayers:hugs:my heart goes out to you.:love:

[dreamer]

thanks

her is another piece

I didn't know who she was. She was a drone with no concept of love or anything but fear. Life, if it can be called that, was black except for the ashes of the dead girl she left in her wake and the red shards of fear and sadness she walked on everyday. I watched feeling the biting pain she buried and ignored leaping toward false reality at the edge of life. Tease hope, pretend and destroy, redemption and torture.
6:00AM We got up usually after calling dad. We were one person but I was chained deep inside and that drone, that monster, had control. It was so dark and lonely it was impossible to see most of the time but I didn't need to. The bathroom, close the curtain as the heater came to life, freezing with the heater three shirts and long johns. Come out. The floor, 1. up 2. up!!! 3. Heat rises, 4......10...40 hurry, 60..100...Must stay on schedule 140..160..180. Next, lost count start again. Next. the others, where am I? Start over just in case, 5....10....25, so cold. Finish!
7:30AM Let's see, apples & cinnamon, add water, in it goes! 1 ½, start! Take the milk to the sink, careful not to much dad will be suspicious, now rinse it down the drain so he doesn't know! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP ! Shut up stupid machine, do it just add some you can't lie! Just a drip, there you go! Be careful Misty make sure he doesn't come out and put the milk away in a little further back so he won't ask! Quick add more water if he comes he'll think milk. Oh it's so warm! Ha! On the hunt “jue think jue can hide little apple pieces. Mwhahahaha! you were a tricky one! warm my tummy.” Munch. “Now for the goop, have fun with the apples I hope you enjoy your stay at the tummy hotel!” Wash the bowl and spoon look normal he's coming,”hi dad” just go to the room and wait a bit, read.
12:00PM “I'm going to have my yogurt now dad!” Hurry out but make noise, let's see, it's so cold, not strawberry close but not quite there's the last light strawberry – banana! That one is about to expire I should eat it instead but, strawberry-banana has three less carbs and thirty less calories and two and a half fewer grams of sugar. Eny meanie minee, screw it strawberry-banana! Make sure dad isn't around, eat a bite, dump one, eat one, dump three, eat half a bite, dump the rest! Rinse it down! Rinse it down! Wipe the inner walls of the sink with your hands,rinse and wash everything. “I'm done dad!” I'll give dad till 1:00pm before I start asking about the walk.
1:10PM Here we go I better remember to check the time so I can make sure I walk at least half an hour. I wish we were walking in a nice warm place but we went to Safeway yesterday. It looks like we're headed to the track. At least I can measure the distance. It is awful I wish I has more shirts on underneath. One lap, ¼ mile, 1:32PM on the school marque, took twelve minutes, eighteen left keep going faster! Two laps, 1:46PM took fourteen minutes. Last six minutes go faster, at least another eighth mile. Faster! Faster! thirty minutes is up! Just a few more steps.... There now stop.... Rest on the way home then do your floor exercises. Enjoy the rest you're still on time. he goes to the store thirty minutes tops, then home in ten to fifteen. That would make it about 2:35PM.
4:00PM All rested. Snack time! Reduced fat Wheat Thins. Take some, enough so he'll notice not to much, put them in your pocket. Break one into pieces and eat it slowly so it looks like you are eating a serving. He went back to his room! Wait a few minutes... Crush the rest! wait, listen. Go! throw the rest away, not to loud. Cover them with trash, bury them. spread them out. Okay go back to watching T.V. Here he comes. right on time. I shouldn't be doing this. I'll eat a higher calorie Healthy Choice dinner.... “I love you dad.”
5:00PM Which one? I don't want to eat either of the two dad bought last Tuesday. Lets see, “Can I see the chicken marinara one dad?” 250 Cal 4.5g fat, less then I thought! “I'll have the chicken Marinara!” 250 Cal + 60 Cal lunch, max +130 Cal breakfast is about 440 Cal today...Oh MY GOD! yeah!!! this marinara thing is really low calorie and fat and it has CHEESE! Take a bite... spit it out, break it up, make the noodles small, bite, spit, smaller, all of them, bite, spit, dad's got that look... use the fork. He's not looking! Bite, spit, bite, spit, bite spit. What are we watching tonight? King of the Hill! Yeah! Eat a bite broccoli first.... Now make the chicken smaller, bite. Spit. Spit. Spit.... finally!
It usually took two to two and a half hours but I always finished my dinner and I enjoyed it, because I could measure it. I think I bit and spit to make it last longer because I'd heard that if you ate slowly the stomach would feel more full. At first I didn't do it much, and I used a knife, but it became a compulsory contest. How long could dinner last? I was consumed with controlling time Everyday I had to always do things at the exact time I did the day before, or I had to keep doing things faster. if I didn't I had to pay. Eat less and/or walk more. At this point I Never ate anything that was not diet and prepackaged. My father had given up on talking through her.
I was tied down with my own rope and after so many breakdowns I was happy to escape another day without wanting to die. Not even the sharpest logic could slice through that thick. knotted, dirty fear cycle. Not a psychiatrist, not a father, not a friend. One day I woke and there was the hand of a perfect stranger, many, reaching out. the knife was waiting I just had to start cutting the rope.

[SevenUp!]

Goodness Misty, what you've gone through in your life! Truly incredible how well you have managed despite all your troubles. A strong and determined person....you are an inspiration, :hugs:

[dreamer]

I want my Mom,

Just shut up and hold me. I hate you now. You can never just hold me! You Don't listen you choose to hear! well **** that, you may not hear me now but at least I can speak. you're sick I don't know what with but I am afraid of you because of it. you yell and hit and throw things. so I do what I know you want at the time. but I love you. when we are alone or when I can hide behind another person. I'm not hiding now!!! you have no right to hit my brothers or sisters, and every time you do my hate for you builds, someday I'll be brave enough to hit you and I wont stop! slapping my sister across the face for being disobedient is not discipline! Calling her a selfish little witch or ***** is not okay, pulling her out of bed by her hair is not okay and someday I hope you are tortured by what you've done. Giving my brothers pot and then yelling at them and calling them names because they have it is wrong. barely squeezing by financially and continuing to bring innocent children into the world is torturous and cruel. how dare you be so irresponsible! you should be punished! How can one be so perfect and have their children running from them if only in mind? how in the hell do you not put your children first. you have contributed greatly to the pain of those who once loved you and you do so willingly and intentionally. you play favorites. you give some a false sense of how easily some can get what they want while spewing hate to others. you make me confused and give me so many reasons to be hateful and so few not to you cannot be the emotional support and structure your young ones need to live and you leave me doing my best to pick up the pieces. Being little brother's bad cop, having him eat his dinner, read to me, and go take his bath. Staying up nights until sister went to sleep because she's seen so much hate from humanity that she's afraid she will be killed by it. you may have lacked what you needed and wanted in your childhood but so have I, there comes a point where I chose to do what needed to be done despite what I may want, you never made that choice! and so I cannot become well. I am physically and mentally ill. and you want beyond my ability. I am to tired to even hate anymore. you are killing those i love,putting them out like so many cigarettes, their flaws remaining but no flame for their spirit to shine. just like addictions do we will make sure you pay for your choices, how much higher will you make the price?

[dreamer]

The Truth
Every time I look back on it I am filled with deep rage, it almost killed me and they watched frozen as I disappeared slowly. Anorexia has a stigma to it, girls choose not to eat. There is so much more, both boys and girls face this monster that controls them and drives them to become a different person entirely. this can be a horribly lonely battle because of the mixture of preconceptions and fact that people think they know , the net of illogical logic that the sick are entangled in, and the battle even professionals face as they fight this up hill battle against this enemy in the dark.
This illness is one full of false ideas and from the mind of someone who has had to fight this battle here is The truth about Anorexia as I have dealt with it . True, Anorexia is usually the result of an attempt to be more attractive or healthier. False, Anorexia is not a choice genetics play a part as well as many other factors after the brain has gone long enough without proper nutrition the disease takes control . False, only white girls can be Anorexic,Anorexia effects boys and girls black and white and brown usually in their teens but not always. In essence this disease is blind. False people suffering with anorexia don't eat or eat and throw it up, also known as purging. Most anorexics do one or the other but that is not set in stone. Many of those affected by this disease also over exercise. It is all well and good to have this knowledge but it is virtually valueless until it can be interwoven with an individual.
Cheese can be the most frightening thing in the world, I couldn't even think about it but it didn't start that way . As with many Anorexic individuals my sickness began as an honest attempt to lose,in my opinion, extra weight and be healthier . I had tried this numerous times but it stuck sophomore year. I ate sandwiches and fruits and vegetables and drank juice instead of pop and nachos among other things, Excersize became a regular habit instead of something to be avoided. I wanted tummy shirts and a six pack . At sixteen I was finally on my way, my pants got looser and I felt good! then came summer break.
I went to see family in Washington but I couldn't bring my walker to excersize . Before I knew it I felt horrible, so bad in fact that I started doing fifty-five push ups a day and only eating “healthy” food, no fat yogurt, an exact serving of Cheerios with low fat milk, and if anything a carrot for lunch. i had lost twenty- eight pounds by the time I went home and I was so proud I weighted as much as my idol! I had all intentions to stop and go back to regular eating and excersize but I gained six pounds back again and I was deadly afraid.
I ate less and exersized more and the more I ate at one meal the less I ate and another, if I didn't excersize I ate less and continued to do so even after I made I made up for my “binges” I was starving and every once is a while I went for the evil peanut butter. Everyday I ate less and excersized more, if I couldn't excersize or had to eat more then I planned I felt like a murderer I felt guilt that lead me to think I should die. It was a tightrope walk and if I fell I was left sobbing uncontrollably so afraid of each unused calorie and wanting any way out. This is common.
It hurt to sit. at eighty pounds I had no rear but I couldn't stop. the more people made me eat the more I gave away and exercised. my social life was no more, this from a once jabber jaw I wanted help but was afraid of it and I was losing hope. Then came Kartini and the strongest woman I know. Julie O'tool runs Kartini she and another woman asked me how much I ate and I lied, not to much three hundred calories worth but I wanted to go walk then they asked about that. The next thing I know I was sobbing again and yelling at her “ I don't want to talk to you!' As she condemned me to eat and not exercise or she'd feed me through a tube as I was lead to the hospital.
I was fighting after I'd eaten it. My father had to hold me down as I sobbed and struggled to get up after eating half a pbj and fruit. I had been so noisy when my room was being prepared that we were lead to a small room out of earshot of others outside I was adement as I begged “daddy take me home please, I want to go home!” my eyes were clamped shut and my fingers were in my ears as my Nurse introduced herself as Kathryn. As I fought my father Kathryn offered me a pill saying ,“it will make it better.” It did make it better, not gone but a whisper.
This is Anorexia as I know it the reality and pain of it. The facts of life for Anorexic Misty. The most difficult feat is imagining how many of the sick died as I got my help. The day I came I was hateful and afraid of those I needed most and as I hug them I still am. This is my truth, but it is only the beginning.

[dreamer]

I was all set to go, Canada on the horizon. I was going to the fifth worldwide Shania Twain fan convention, the was money paid and reservations made. Everything packed except clothes, a friend to go with me and help out, but nothing's ever that simple.
I had called Linda a few times to try and tie up the final loose ends on our trip to Timmins, leaving my usual “I can't wait” message. Nothing seemed odd until I called and her answering machine was full, I knew this wasn't a normal busy mom absence. She at least checks her messages.
She called me the same day, one week before the trip,leaving me a message. The sound in Linda's voice told me she couldn't come with me anymore before she said it. I heard the words, her daughter had juvenile diabetes, but all that registered was my plans disintegrating before me and falling through my fingers. For an hour I cried for all my hard work, the five years it took me to build this reality, further honoring Shania Twain by making this journey to add a dimension to my heart. I mourned it all, yet refused to let it go. When the gravity of Linda's situation hit me I didn't just cry for me but for us both. God gave me no answers as to why it had to happen, Linda is one of the greatest people in the world, She has a heart of gold, works hard, has unmatched optimism, and has a great family. It made no sense no matter how many times the question was posed or how many tears were shed.
My mind was made even before the tear well dried within me, there was absolutely no way for me to let my plans float away in my stream of tears! Still fighting against my tears I called my cousin, the only words that came out when she answered were, I need help but I can't speak now. if there was anyone who could help me revive the trip it was her, She is creative, stubborn, and smart. Lexie came to the house expecting me to be hurt only to find me curled up and sobbing quietly in a corner of my bedroom without a scratch. I still couldn't speak coherently so I played Linda's message on speaker phone. Lexie understood my breakdown when the message was done and we set to work after she reassured me that it was okay to feel like wanting to just disappear.
When I got my mind wrapped around my new reality I bought some flowers and a card and was off to the hospital Linda was at. I found her and her husband in their room and their children, all of them, off playing bingo! I was greeted as a hero for not being mad at them, but what did they expect? I gave them the flowers and the card as they apologized profusely for ruining my trip, but I promised them I would be going, no matter what. I was more shocked that Linda couldn't persuade the airline to grant a ticket transfer even when the doctor agreed to talk to them and explain things, so she was going to pay me back the money! My first response was worry about your family first, it was clear though that she couldn't be dissuaded of the idea. Soon the two youngest children, including the one for whom they came to the hospital, came in with their prizes. For a while the three of us, myself and the children, watched their parents practicing preparing an emergency injection. It was amazing to watch a family pull together like that in a time of need, even facing such trials they were loving and fearless. They were beautiful, and I was a frayed thread in their fabric, so for the meantime I moved back toward my goal: Canada.

Since transferring the ticket, was futile, medical emergency or not, going alone was another option if meed be. However, this being my first flight and first time out of the country especially dealing with my eating disorder and being bound to a wheel chair, the last thing I wanted to do was be lost and confused alone. There was only one other option. I could pay for Lexie to get another plane ticket, I would be in debt a bit but it seemed the best option, if I could use my dad's credit card.

I expected a struggle to get my dad to agree to the new ticket idea but there was none he gave me the card. He was just as afraid of me going alone as I was but he couldn't stop me so, he agreed. That's when Lexie changed her mind.
Suddenly going alone was an adventure that would be just so much fun. Because I had no other ideas the credit card sat in my room and suddenly I was alone. Lexie helped me pack my entire closet much to my puzzlement, but She had traveled before, so who was I to speak?
After everything was packed and I told everyone the news of Linda and the forced change in plans, the last thing I had to work out was getting from the airport in Toronto to the train I would be taking to Timmins. I couldn't use public transit because I had no idea how it worked in Canada, but I didn't want to pay fifty dollars for a taxi either.
For days I researched the Canadian transit system but just became more and more perplexed. At least with a taxi I had less of a chance of getting lost late at night. Much to my joy I wouldn't use a taxi, or get lost using public transport. A woman I knew from a Shania Twain forum offered to meet me at the airport and help me get to the train. My friend Terri saved me from frying my brain and helped me not to miss my opportunity. Thank goodness for good people!
Tuesday morning on August seventh 2007 I went to the airport with several hours to spare.
Lexie helped to get me through security and baggage and to where I would catch my first plane. The flight got canceled. It never occurred to me even as we ran to catch the flight we were transferred to that this was only the beginning of my adventure!

[SevenUp!]

Thank-you Misty for your courage to share what you and other anorexics go through. I know your trip to Canada was an amazing experience....glad Terri was there to help you along the way. Hope Linda's daughter is doing ok.

[dreamer]

more soon

[faithfully]

Aye keep this story going Misty I :love: it http://i204.photobucket.com/albums/bb286/tanktopshania/freewebs%20pics%20etc/Blue_jumps.gif

[dreamer]

tommorrow hun

[faithfully]

tommorrow hunNo rush Misty take your time:]

[SevenUp!]

more soon

Awesome!! :]

[eileen_regina]

misty your gr8 its cool of you to shear your thoughts and feelins with us