All I Want for Christmas

When I was little, I remember making elaborate letters addressed to Santa Claus himself begging him for some Barbie Dreamhouse or a My Little Pony figurine.  Even as I got older and my belief in Santa Claus dissipated,  I still rambled off a list of big-ticket electronics and other pricey articles of entertainment to my parents. Of course, every year I wouldn’t get exactly what I wanted and hid my utter disappointment behind my mask of giggles and smiles.  I know what you are thinking . . . you probably are pointing your finger at me and exclaiming that I am an ungrateful, greedy American juvenile. And you know what, I would have to agree with you. I was a child blinded by my lust for tangible items.

Now though things have changed. At the age of 16, I don’t find myself dreaming of neatly wrapped packages containing popular objects like the xBOX 360, KINECT, or a smart phone. Instead I only wish for one thing this Christmas. . .

I wish that I wouldn’t be broken.  Not only so I can enjoy the wonderful life I have been blessed with, but also so my family can enjoy theirs as well.

You see for years I have drowned my parents in a sea of medical expenses and anxiety not only due to my eating disorder, but also due to my myriad of other mental and physical health issues.  No parent should have to watch their daughter turn into an emaciated skeleton in front of their eyes. No parent should have hear the words “I hate you” or “I am going to kill myself” come out of their daughter’s mouth. No parent should have to lose their daughter’s soul and personality due to mental illness. No parent deserves this, especially my mom and dad.

I have been blessed with some of the best parents a child could ask for. So many kids have a mom and dad who are hooked to alcohol, who stick needles into their veins until they are high, who even sexually and verbally abuse them.  My parents did none of that. Despite the fact my mom was extremely busy with her work, she would always take the time to help me write my stories when I was too young to spell. My dad found and gave me an old computer when I was just six so I could allow my imagination to flourish and compose stories on my own. For goodness sake, they bought me a wonderful blue swing set when I was 3 just because I had a bowel movement (for some reason I refused to do number 2 for weeks at a time)!

My parents really do care about me and I love them more than anything in the world. I could buy them anything for Christmas and they would thankful, but what they really want is their daughter back. The daughter who’s laughed filled the house with happiness. The daughter was willing to try anything. The daughter who loved everyone no matter what. The daughter who was once me.

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