This is the first time I’ve ever written my story down in words, so here goes nothing. I’m 17 years old, and I have struggled with eating disorders, abuse, alcoholism, anxiety, and (undiagnosed) bipolar disorder. When I was little, life was normal. I had a normal family, went to a normal school, and lived in a normal suburb in a normal city. Everything was great. Until my mother’s father died. At the time, I didn’t know much about my mother, but I learned a lot about her after that. She had dealt with drug and alcohol additiction since she was a teenager, she was clinically depressed and bipolar, and she wasn’t really the relationship type (many, many marriages). None of these things seemed to matter for the first 6 odd years of my life, but when her father died, she went off her meds, started drinking more and more, divorced my father, and became the monster I now identify as my mother. She blamed me for his cancer (I’m still not sure how that made sense in her head) and became physically and mentally abusive. After years of pain and confusion, I decided that she was right about me and my worthlessness. My 12-year-old self started cutting my ankles with a pocket tool that I found in my backyard, I stopped eating, and I started drinking. Long story short, a teacher noticed a scar on my forehead from being pushed down onto my driveway and reported me to child services. I was pulled out of school and interviewed, and a few weeks later, three days before Christmas, my dad was finally given full custody. Although that was the best thing that’s ever happened to me, it wasn’t the end of my problems. My anxiety was making me physically ill, I was drinking insane amounts of liquor whenever I could, and I was hiding these crazy waves of emotions I felt from everyone around me. I reached another low point in my life the summer before my junior year, when I was sexually assaulted by the kicker on our varsity football team. He hosted a house party that night, so two friends and I decided to be “cool” and go. I had too much to drink and ended up passing out on his couch. He carried me to his room, and the rest is history. News spread around the school like wildfire, so I tried to stop the whole drinking thing. It didn’t work. I started using hydrocortisone with a few friends every weekend and drinking all of the time. I barely ate anything, and I quit the sports I used to love. I craved a mother, but never got one. Life seemed fun and exciting from the outside, but I was struggling more than anyone knew. This year I’m a senior in high school. So much has changed. I had always really enjoyed music from a particular artist named Demi Lovato, but it wasn’t until this year that I really started listening and understanding her music and the intentions behind it. Because of her, I’m now receiving mental health treatment and am happier than I’ve ever been in my life. Although I’ve never opened up about my eating disorder or alcohol abuse, I’m working personally to fix what I’ve broken in myself. I’ve been trying incredibly hard to stop calorie counting, I’ve stopped purging, and I’m working to stop drinking. I’m only a week sober, but it’s a step. I’m trying to be honest with those around me, even if that’s really scary. I know I have a role model who overcame much more than what I’ve dealt with, so that gives me hope to recover too. I’m sorry that this is really just me rambling and complaining about some little things that have happened, but I just felt the need to share my progress with someone. Thanks for reading & pray that I continue to heal if you wanna