I'm consistent with every other person and thing in my life; besides myself.
I give up on myself or the things I want and need more than anything else.
Somewhere along the line- I have made myself believe that I am not worth the consistency, the effort.
So that is what I accepted from everyone around me.

Since high school I have enjoyed lifting weights. 
My issue is my consistency with it.; and my self confidence.
I will be doing good and then my body dysphoria tells me I look like a potato and this is all for nothing- my anxiety tells me that everyone is judging me and I look stupid. So I leave and usually don't return for a week, sometimes longer.
Start the cycle of self hate and loathing because I, again, wasn't consistent. 

I'm learning and growing daily. 
I'm holding myself accountable. For not being consistent with myself, for not loving myself the way that I deserve and have deserved all along. 
I'm learning new things about myself all the time and trying to be more open and honest about who I am and the struggles I deal with. Ones that I do talk about and the ones I have never spoke about before.

This is my accountability. 
This is my healing.

I have an eating disorder.
I probably have had it since I was in middle school. I have always struggled with my self image, as you can imagine having body dysphoria. I struggle with just feeding myself and my weight. 
It's not that I'm afraid of getting fat, there is nothing wrong with being fat. 
But when I am at the height of a very deep low- my brain tells me that I don't deserve to eat. So I just don't. I lie to everyone around me about eating; "oh I ate before I came", "oh, I'm not very hungry, it's okay", "oh my stomach hurts, I'll eat later". 
I can go three to four days without eating a single thing. Then I binge.
Before; I was also throwing up. I got so good at it that I didn't even have to manually do it. I could just make myself throw up without stuffing my fingers down my throat.
That not only killed my self esteem more- but it killed my teeth. Which in turn-- killed my self-esteem EVEN MORE. My skin turned to shit and I'm starting to age more than I should be.  

This is not something I have ever talked about publicly; I mean, I think I have said those words "I have an eating disorder ", myself out-loud to maybe three people in my life. 
I'm ashamed.
How could I let myself fall into that trap. How could I hate myself so much that I starve myself for love. For my own love. 
MY OWN LOVE. 
In my brain I have to be WORTHY of something in order to deserve food, in order to eat and maintain a healthy lifestyle. 

For the past couple of months I have made it a point to force myself to eat at least once a day. Even if it's just some peanut butter crackers and a protein shake. 
I haven't starved myself and I haven't skipped a day in a couple months.
I haven't made myself throw up in almost five years. 
I have been consistent. 

I know some people wonder why I am so open about almost everything in my life.
It's my healing. It is how I help people through their silent battles.
You can judge me, that's fine. But that random stranger may need to hear what I have to say- and I won't ever stop telling my story. 
I have been consistent.

I have been going to the gym again now at least three times a week, besides the week of Bonnaroo, for a couple months now. 
I have been feeling better mentally for the most part. I have been noticing little changes in myself and my body. I have been forcing myself to go to the gym- even if i just do one set of each exercise that day. At least I went. 
I have been consistent. 

I'm holding myself accountable.
But I am also trying to celebrate my victories.
I won't say small, because none of these are small. I am fighting an eating disorder every single day, and winning.
I am fighting suicidal ideas and intentions, every single day, and winning. 
I am working on a program that works for me and my mental health, and even if its just small baby steps to some people- 
I have been consistent.

I deserve consistency.
I deserve love and understanding. 
I deserve all the things I put out in this world to come right back to me; and I can't depend on anyone else to deliver that to me- but myself. 

Sometimes I still want to die. That will probably never change; it is just a chemical imbalance in my brain that has been there since i was at least 10, maybe younger.
I want to see Charlie and be with her. 
But I promised her that I would keep trying for her, every single day.
One step at a time.

And if I haven't been anything else to Charlie after she died,
I have been consistent. 

Charlie, just guide me on my way.