Can you remember the last time your parents told you they loved you or said that you looked pretty or handsome today? Well for me, I can't, it almost seems like a faint imagination of my parents actually loving me. I mean I know they do, but they do a horrible job of showing it.

It all started two years ago when my mom and dad sent me to a weight loss camp for the summer, I mean it's not like the ones you see on TV, the ones where they sneak out to go eat Twinkies or stuff Oreos in their pillow cases; this was something different. It’s not like they were forcing me, I wanted to go, and I still do.

By 6 weeks I had lost almost 50 pounds. They picked me up and we went home from there. September came around and we went on one of our famous cruises, that’s when it all went downhill. I had gained 10 pounds back and I wasn't my happy self, I was still about 30-40 lbs. overweight. But I didn’t feel different; I mean I still felt like the fat girl that can't wear s***.

I went back to that camp the next summer. Still went for 6 weeks again. I was down to 180 which was the high of the weight range I should be in. I was happy, no I was more than happy. For once I was satisfied with myself. I came home and didn’t work out, went back to eating bad food and now I'm back where I've started. Except worse, every night I cry myself to sleep because of the bullies. No, not the bullies at school, they’re none. But the bullies sitting on my couch watching TV right now. It seemed like every bite I took was just another stab in the heart.
Does your mom call you fat? Does she say you're never going to get a boyfriend looking like that? Does she buy you clothes because your old ones don't fit anymore? I have to beg my mom to get me clothes so I'm not wearing a sweatshirt every freaking day of my life. There has been a period of death, depression, starvation, and all of the above, running through my mind. I still remember what my mom asked me one day, "It can't just be us that are making you feel this way" but the truth is….. It was, all those words, all those f***ing words going through your brain, your blood, and even worse your heart.

I just want to tell her, enough is enough, I don’t need or want this from you, let me live my life and I’ll let you live yours. But I know that’s not how things go, I mean she’s my mom, my mommy, she’ll always be there for me whenever I need her the most. Sometimes she just says the wrong things at the wrong time. I know she understands parts that I’m going through but not the whole picture, and those parts that she doesn’t understand are the parts that I need her to. I want to talk to her and tell what I’m telling you right now; but I can’t, it’s near to impossible to explain this to her. And that’s probably my biggest struggle right now.

I always told my mom I would never kill myself, I would think about it but it would never get the best of me. Now I can't say that anymore, it's a whole different ball game. I have to learn to love school because lunch is the only safe meal I can eat without my parents judging me, yelling at me to stop eating. I always show this happy girl at school because it annoys me too much when people ask me what’s the matter. I understand that they care; but no one, no one at all will ever understand what’s going on, and I'm glad because no one should.