It wasn’t that long ago that you can remember smiling and having no one say that it hadn’t reached your eyes. It wasn’t that long ago that you hadn’t gone to bed each night planning. It wasn’t that long ago that climbing stairs hadn’t been a problem. That you could run and swim and dance and sing and do everything you’d always wanted. The world was at your fingertips; but you’d stretched out for it so desperately that you’d fallen over the edge. You’d toppled head over heels into a relationship with someone who didn’t love you. Someone who hated you and wanted you dead. Someone who lived in your head and screamed out orders; “don’t eat that!” “Run harder!” “You’re too fat, more push ups!” “Don’t you dare put that razor down, it’s your friend.”
Someone who lived in your head shouldn’t have so much power over you, but they did, they do. Someone named Lucy is ruining your life.
That was last year.
People still tell you to eat, but you don’t look sick anymore. You hate this.
You aren’t better, but you’re getting there.
Fewer nights are spent food planning and you haven’t cried over a meal for weeks now. You don’t cry much anymore, but you want to sometimes. You decided that maybe you’ve used up all your tears for a while and try to keep going.
Things are hard for you. Sometimes you wish you were back in hospital.
The nightmares have stopped though. You can close your eyes now and know that you won’t wake up in a pool of sweat.

When you were you younger you wrote Carpe Diem on everything. Books and tissues and blog posts and in the sand. Wherever you went a trail of two, inspirational Latin words followed. It was your legacy. Now they are catching up to you.
You are special. You are worthwhile. You are needed. You can carpe diem.
You can seize the day.