MYLIEDEMIE

HOW DID WE GET HERE? WHEN I USED TO KNOW YOU SO WELL

Hello, and welcome to our MYLIEDEMIE webpage. As you can tell, Twilight is one of our favourite things to read/watch, among other things. But as for who we really are, well, that's a different story. Here's a little background information on us and how we got to where we are today.

Hey guys, my name is Demie. I'm 20 years old, and I've suffered from an eating disorder for three years, Depression since I was a kid, and self injury for four-five years. I'm now in recovery for the most part, although I still struggle every day with my Anorexia.

I never really thought I was fat. But I HAD fat, and that was enough for me. Things in my life were really out of control. I was depressed, and my mom had just caught me cutting myself at age 16. My childhood was pretty messed up, I think. Unfortunately, I've blocked most of it out, and it bothers me. I don't know what really happened to me, and that's the scariest thing I've ever felt.

My dad was abusive emotionally, and physically to my mom. He would throw things at us a lot when he was drunk, which was always since he was an alcoholic suffering with bipolar disorder. He said alcohol calmed him down. I think it only made things worse. I still remember all those little moments, my mom crying, a piece of a glass plate that shattered on the fireplace and cut me across my eyelid, where I still have a scar, the cops being called, my dad being in jail AGAIN until he was bailed out days later. I remember all the small things.

When I was 17 or so, I started dieting. Once when I was little, I thought it'd be cool to 'be on a diet' like everyone else. I put myself on 200 calories a day, but stopped it shortly after, because I was just a kid and I had a short attention span like all the other kids. It wasn't a big deal to me. It was a fad. I tried cutting down my calories when I was older to 1200 with little success. It was really hard for me to stick to. I hated exercising. I am and probably always will be that annoying little girl who complains about everything, especially the small amount of calories she had put herself on that was 'not enough'.

It's weird for me to look back on that time, when I would fail my diet every day. 1200 calories was so little. I honestly can't remember what happened. The feelings never left, the ones telling me I should diet. That not eating would help. It was a coping mechanism I heard about online on self injury forums. I made myself become Anorexic. I made myself cut down on my calories because I knew at one point, it HAD to help me cope. I honestly believe it would help. It didn't.

The next year, I had only lost five pounds. It was pathetic. I began cutting down more and more. I met Mylie earlier on. We always dieted together, putting ourselves on crazy 2468 diets that were amazing. We would make up our own restriction plans that included crazy exercise regimens. My mom still tells me how it scared her when she saw that I was doing 2000 crunches a day. It still doesn't seem like a lot to me.

I was on a high during this year. Everything was disconnected and surreal. I wish I could tell you how I was feeling, every single detail, every single time I felt good about restricting my calorie intake. I still remember the first day I fasted successfully, and I will never forget it. It was one of the best days of my life, as horrible as that sounds. I still remember the day I first restricted down to under two hundred calories. I had part of a grapefruit and an apple. I remember that day vividly. Me and Mylie were doing so well. I lost another five pounds.

Eventually, at 5'1 height, I was down to 89 pounds. I can't lie. This was the best time of my life. Mylie was my hero then. She was so much smaller than me. It was sad how much I admired her, how I admired everyone I talked to online with an eating disorder. I wanted to lose more weight. I started thinking seriously about suicide.

Mylie and I made a pact during this last year, that we wouldn't commit suicide unless we were together. So many times, I wanted to break that promise, but we both didn't. My mom took me to the hospital after admitting to her how closely I was to suicide, and I was hospitilized for Major Depression. I also worked on my eating disorder there, and when I got out three months later, I was fine for the most part. Pretty doped up, but fine.

I feel my eating disorder taking over my life more and more each day. I wnat to recover still... I consider myself in recovery. But I'm losing weight again, and I'm restricting. I want to continue. That's scary to me. I feel myself inching closer to death each day, but at the same time, I feel myself reaching out for recovery. I'm not sure what to choose. As for now, I'm at a stand still.

I'm Mylie, I don't know where to start, but I'm nineteen years young and my mother thinks I suffer from PTSD, the reason behind my anorexia, bulimia, anxiety, depression and the list goes on. I've been in this battle for nearly four years, maybe three, it's all a blur. I, in addition, have not only self-injured by purging every meal, whether restricting or binging, but by self-mutilation. I have stopped doing so for the most part and now am backing out of treatment for my eating disorder.

I have gone through home based treatment, so was last year and that was at the time of my near-death heart failure.. Or the doctors claimed the case as being that severe. I had been on the track team, running distance, at my lowest weight, hardly eating. Ever since, after the treatment, which never really worked, I've lost even more self-esteem.

As a child I was quite skinny, due to my chorn's disease, yet I had become ill frequently and one day depended on prednisone to save myself from bleeding to death as well as elavil (another episode of my sickness a few months later after the prednisone). The two medications backfired and I had become depressed and large. The weight never came off, from the times using prednisone. I soon discovered that if I didn't eat, I'd lose weight. And I did. But that took me in for a whirlwind of horror and distress. I wish ever so much I never got myself into this mess. But I'm here now and so very addicted to my eating disorder. It defines me.

My father committed suicide when I was eleven years young. His death scarred me and, what's more, I remember telling him "I wish you were dead" the day he died. I've been told that I was just a child, that children say those things. It never helps. It happened in our house, in our basement, the house I still live in.

As I said, I tried treatment again and have backed out. I've been in hospitals before for suicide attempts and depression, but the last visit for an overdose and the will to be treated from my disorder, I was sexually assaulted, I won't go into details, by another patient. But I did meet one boy who saved me, who is so important, and he made me realize the relationship I had with this other boy, one totally unrelated to the assault never mind knows about my eating disorder or mental health, was abusive.

But when I don't eat, when I exercise, when I purge every scrap of food that enters past my lips, I feel this high, this emotion so hard to explain¦. I just felt amazing, empowered. Like I could control everything. Even though I couldn't and can't. I'm still in this battle and I'm not ready to make nice. I've tried treatment and maybe I'm just not, maybe it's not time.

I'm not sure what else to say. I know I'm being much, much less descriptive than Demie but I'm in an odd mode as I write this. Disconnecting, distant. Perhaps I will edit this later. But I just wanted you to know a bit of me. At least I can say, I have my best friend, Demie.

BUT HOW DID WE GET HERE, WELL I THINK I KNOW

Under Construction

WE'VE GONE AND MADE SUCH FOOLS, OF OURSELVES