Nostalgic

Four years ago, Ellen threw me a party for my Birthday.

Everyone ended up being ridiculously upset with me, because I left my own party soon after we all got downtown. I wasn't feeling well. I remember trying to force-feed myself a granola bar as I sat in Natalie's car. At that point, I was still being ragged on for having an eating disorder, because I'd lost so much weight over the last two years. I was weak, and jittery, and dizzy, and over heating, and cold-sweating, and having trouble breathing, and my stomach was so sick, so I considered that perhaps I hadn't eaten enough that day. (I was also already living a very sober lifestyle, so it wasn't that)

Natalie drove me home, and after what seemed like hours of crying and shaking on my bedroom floor, (my dad was out of town) she called 911. It was my very first ambulance ride! My mom and my sister met me at the hospital, and my heart rate and blood pressure was tested over and over because one kept rising while the other kept falling. And then after the too-many hours that thy always make you wait in Emerge, a doctor said 'panic attack' to me for the first time.

But that was it! Relax, and stop with the energy drinks, was all I got for my troubles.

It's probably a good thing that I was too out of it to remember that doctor's face, or else I'd likely stoop to punching him in the teeth if I ever saw him again. I mean, it really is astounding, how many doctors and professionals I saw over the years, before someone finally made an effort to actually FIX me, instead of just brushing me off. But that's besides the point of what I'm getting at...

Ellen is throwing me a Birthday party tonight. And I am beyond ready to divulge in every single minute of it, be the very last one to leave this time!

Four years later, and look at me now. After too many more attacks to count, too many more plans ruined, my health is getting back on track, and I have people in my life who never gave up. Happy Birthday to me!