Some days I would wish I didn't exist. I wouldn't get up from my bed, I would just lay there and pretend I didn't have a life to live; I didn't have to go to set or studio. I wouldn't have to do interviews; I could just be by myself. Those were the good days, those were the days I was able to ignore everything around me.
Most days though, I would do everything I had to, but at the same time die inside. I would meet a fan and talk with them, hear them saying I changed their life, and die inside at the same time, because I was able to write music that meant so much to others, but meant nothing to me. I felt like a liar, I felt like everything was slowly crashing down but no one noticed. I would put on a smile and I'd hear people telling me how brave I was, even when I was such a coward inside.
Do you know how it feels to hate yourself? Do you know that feeling when you look at yourself from mirror and all you see is things you'd like to change? Do you know where it leads when you go years an years with out dealing with it?
I thought I had found the cure. That one person who could make me feel so beautiful, make me feel like I was wanted. Do you know how important it is to feel loved, cared and wanted? I know, because I once knew how it felt. Until it was taken away from me.
My mistake was falling in love with my best friend. I'm not even going to pretend that we were friends all those years and then suddenly it was more. I fell for him the second we met. Of course I had to be there to see him fooling with all those other girls, some of them were even my friends, but he never noticed me. I was either too young, or too much of a friend. I never was that one girl he'd totally fall in love with.
I don't even know what had changed when we started exploring the non friendship parts of our friendship. I think I was so caught up in the moment, that I didn't stop and think why he was treating me differently all of a sudden. Guess at that point it didn't matter why, but just that I had someone to catch me from falling.
That was the point of my life though, where everything slowly started to get better. I had my best friends with me all the time; I was working with my boyfriend, who made me feel like the prettiest girl of the prom. I felt like nothing could break me. It was like drugs, they would take you so high for a while, but then you'd come down and things would be even worse than they were in the beginning.
That first day I saw him with herI didn't cry. I put on a mask, when they looked at me they saw a girl who was sad for losing her boyfriend, but also who was starting to heal. I wasn't starting to heal. I guess you could say I was in denial, I didn't believe that the one I loved had moved on.
When she first joined us on our tour I told everyone how I felt about it, and I mean everyone. Then he came to me, after two months of ignoring each other he came and talked with me. He was the first one to notice I wasn't alright. He was the first one to notice I wasn't eating. He tried forcing me to eat, he cried, he screamed, he hold my wrists so hard that they bruised. But even he, after everything, couldn't get to me. All I was thinking about was if I was one size smaller, maybe then he would want me again.
My life was playing in front of me, I was watching it like a movie, but I wasn't the one making the calls, not anymore, it was the disease that pulled all the strings. Have you even been to that point in your life, when you don't know what day is it, because you don't remember when the last time you had any sleep was? You're life becomes blurry and you can't really look at it and say what was the point everything turned out that way. All you think about is how much calories you've eaten that day, or how many you have burned.
Every day was the same for me. Get up, eat half of an apple, work out, interviews, sound check, work out, go on stage, eat rest of the apple then party. Only things I really drunk was water and vodka. Vodka, because everything else had too much calories. I even thought about starting to smoke, purely because I heard it takes your appetite away.
To be honest, I don't know what I used during that time of my life and I don't really want to know. Those nights are so blurry that I don't even want to remember them.
I don't blame him, I don't blame my parents, I don't even blame these girls who called me fat when I was little. It's not their fault, it's this society we live in that only wants to see one type of people. They put too much expectations on us, wait for us to turn out just the way they feel is right. And still, after everything, I don't blame my disease. I don't hate it. I might recognize it, but that doesn't mean I will ever fully love myself and my body.
There are days when I hate myself so much, that I start crying and lay on my bed whole day and act like no one cares about me and what I do. There are days when I go and throw up and refuse to eat. There are days when I look at my wrists and the razor that's in the bathroom. There are days when I wear a smile and tell everyone I'm alright. There are days when I actually feel happy.
Then there's days like this one. These days when I look at videos, pictures, interviews and think about those days when I couldn't stop everything. These days when I think about calling him and telling him about all of this. Days when I wonder if those days were better than this one.
And this day isn't anything special; it's the same as all the others before this. Today I sit with a psychiatrist for an hour and I don't say a word. That one special hour when I think about my life, where it was and where it's going. The day I'm waiting for is the day I'm finally ready to share my pain.
So I know she already did told us her story, that's what inspired this oneshot. It's just my take on eating disorders and all that. I love Demi.