Wanting More

They say the first step to fixing your problem is admitting you have one. Unfortunately, I am not quite there yet. My name is Jessy Anderson and I did everything I could to stay sane.

My life is... Crazy. I get good grades, I have a job, I just got accepted all of the best colleges. I fulfilled all my parents ridiculous expectations. But no matter what I do it never seems to be enough. My Mother tells me Im too fat, Im an embarrassment, a disappointment, Im a whore, Im ugly. She even told me she wanted me to die... It never ends. My Father tells me Im a disappointment and Im dumb just like my mother. He asks me why I always make such bad decisions. I just sit there and take their abuse. My friends are the only ones that know what their abuse does to me. I have an eating disorder to please my mom and my insecurities. I do a number of drugs and drink quite a bit of alcohol to take the pain away. Most of the time it works. My "condition" grows worse and worse every day and my friends are the only ones who see it. They don't know how to help me though. My parents are divorced and are both never at their homes. So when they are gone you know I am home. I always throw the best parties when they are away and host the best kick backs. You see, I supply the party location and my friends supply the favors. But it was one instance in particular when they brought me too many favors and things I guess did not go the way they were supposed to. 

I had just finished up with a conference call between my parents. They were calling for their weekly check-up to see how I was managing on my own. However, that is never how the calls ever actually went. They nagged and said mean things to me and had fought with each other in between. Immediately after I hung up the phone with my parents I had texted my friends to come over. It was raining out and I was feeling even more depressed than usual. I needed to get away for a while and I wanted to be surrounded by people who actually loved me and cared for me. My loneliness was growing greater by the second so I told my friends to hurry. I ordered from food from every take out menu I could find in the house. I hopped in the shower and put my room in order as I waited. Tonight I wanted to be comfortable due to my mood so I put on some boxer shorts and a loosely fitted tank. My friends knocked on my bedroom door and walked in. They had all brought movie snacks, ice cream, and drinks. All my favorites. They knew me so well. I looked through our movie selections as we waited for our party favors to be set up and our feast to arrive. The door bell rang. I snuffed a line and the door bell rang again. I threw on a zip up jacket and got some money, knowing it was the food. I walked down the stairs and went to the door. All of the food I had ordered had arrived at the same time. I laughed. My eyes were already bloodshot. I sent the delivery boys up the stairs to my room to put the food down. I payed them and gave them all an amazing tip. After they had left I headed up the stairs to my room, but half up the stairs I stopped. I did not feel well. "It wasn't the anorexia and it couldn't have been the drugs... I have not done that many yet." I thought to myself. My friends called for me to hurry up because the movie I don't remember picking was starting.

I am in the hospital now. I can here my parents arguing in the hall. Blaming each other for what happened. What did happen? I don’t even remember... My friends are here all of them trying to tell me what happened but I cannot hear them. My mind is elsewhere. It is lost. I wish I could remember how I ended up here. But do I really want to know? Maybe I don't remember for a reason. The last thing I recall is the stairs...