There will be discussion of suicide, depression, anxiety, and eating disorders.

This is sort of an unplanned post. I knew this day was happening, but I didn’t know if I was going to share a post or not. It is usually a fairly emotional day for me. I try to take it easy and just breathe. I’ve shared all of my struggles and have been completely transparent about my journey on this blog, but I don’t usually go into detail about July 11th and what it means to me.

I did a post about body dysmorphia this week, so I figured I didn’t need another body positive post and I could just relax today, but I woke up feeling powerful. I started my day with happy tears and strength instead having my usual feelings peppered with what’s ifs.

This totally goes beyond inspiring words and giving insight into my journey. Today is the anniversary of the day that I was admitted for suicidal thoughts, depression, and bulimia.

6 years ago today, I was ready to die. I had the access to the gun, and I knew exactly how I was going to do everything. I felt calm and just ready to let go of the pain. I was hiding who I was and what I was feeling from everyone, so I thought there was no going back.

Then, I got a call from my current husband. He was my best friend at the time, and I was so deeply in love with him. He’s brilliant and could tell something was wrong. He lived minutes away, and when he showed up, he knew. He handed me my phone, and we got in his car.

He drove me to my family doctor without many words exchanged, and I went in shaking and sick. I had thrown up everything I had eaten for close to two weeks straight. I hadn’t slept in days, but I lost consciousness a time or two. My doctor has known me my whole life, and his medical assistant sat there stunned with tears in his eyes.

I told them everything. I told them what I wanted to do. I told them about the bulimia. I told them I was numb. An hour later I was hooked to machines. Doctors were scrambling, and my body was tired, empty, and ready to give up.

It took hours before they could get my body and everything else stable enough to put me in a room. I had an IV stand and nurses in my room every 15 minutes. I couldn’t cry, and I just wanted to tell everyone I was sorry. I wanted to tell my best friend I loved him and just go to sleep.

A few days went by and they were able to get me to eat. I was seeing therapists, nutritionists, and doctors. My best friend and brother visited me, but I wouldn’t let anyone else. I was ashamed that my brother saw me like that, because I was able to hide how I really felt about myself for so long. So many people were blindsided.

It took time, but I was able to stop feeling numb and worthless. I was able to think about a future, and I wanted to get better. I had no clue how I was going to do it, but I was willing to try.

When I was released, my best friend and a few of our other friends were waiting outside of the hospital. They were ready to help me start my life over. Most importantly, they were there to help me get better.

There’s no headings or lists I could add to make this fit my standard blog post style. I don’t want to turn this into something like that. Today is different than any other anniversary of this day.

Today, I feel strong. Today, I feel healthy. Today, I feel grateful and very loved. I’m so thankful for everyone who didn’t give up on me when I wanted to give up on myself. I’m also incredibly grateful for this journey, because it has showed me not only who I am but what I’m capable of. From this year forward, July 11th is a celebration.

I have grown more than I could have imagined. I wrote a book and am working on a second one. I inspire others to love and accept their bodies and themselves just as they are. I want to be that voice telling someone who has doubt that they are beautiful and worthy. I want my kids to grow up and feel amazing about themselves.

I’m just so proud of how far I’ve come. I don’t even know who I was all of those years. I’m sorry to those who I hurt. But I am not sorry for doing what was best for me, because choosing to live and walk out of that old, destructive life was the best decision I ever made.

Happy and Healthy

Well, there’s a heading for ya. I’ve never felt happier, and I’ve never been this healthy. I have a wonderful relationship with my body and food. I love my curves, and I want to celebrate them. So, I did a fun little photoshoot to show my pride in my body and strength. I went from feeling hopeless to feeling like a boss.

I used to feel vulnerable in my nakedness, but now I feel strong. I embrace my body and each and every curve. I am beautiful, and I hope to help others discover their beauty that they can’t see yet. All bodies are beautiful, and it’s time to celebrate that I am size happy.

If you ever struggle, know that getting help doesn’t make you weak. I’ll always be here to tell you you’re all beautiful. I’m not leaving anytime soon, and I hope you’ll continue to follow my journey as I hope to inspire others to live unapologetically in their bodies.

Have a wonderful weekend.

-Jenni

If you’re struggling with thoughts of suicide, know there are resources available. Visit Suicide Prevention Lifeline or call 1-800-273-8255.

Written by

Jenni

I'm a wife and stay at home mom. I'm not a domestic goddess but more like a demi-goddess, because I don't have super strength or multiple arms. I have two hands and just try to drink my coffee and conquers the momdays.