My mother has fibromyalgia and for those of you who don't know about it it's not as scary as it may sound. It affects her in the sense of what kind of towels or bed sheets she can buy because it can cause serious discomfort and pain. It makes doing certain things very hard and painful- like washing dishes or opening a can or even keeping hold on something- but she still works very hard and doesn't use it as an excuse not to do something. There are certain things that are difficult for her to do due to fibromyalgia that myself and the rest of our family around the house have to do but it's always been that way so I wouldn't say I think it's out of the ordinary. She's very determined and hard working and she has taught us that as well. It can definitely make some family activities harder or unpleasant and she hates the fibro (short for fibromyalgia) and sometimes blames herself for it. But it is just one more thing in a world of so many and we pull through. As for some advice for someone with it or someone who knows someone with it; don't make it who they/you are. Cause it's not, and it never will be. Stay strong and don't push yourself too hard.

(I apologize if I upset or offended anyone with this post by not explaining the difficulties of fibromyalgia enough. This has been my personal experience and I am by far not an expert. There are definitely other aspects to fibromyalgia and I again apologize if I did not capture that.)

My beautiful Wisdom; I look up to her in so many different aspects of my life. She has always been there for me, my loving friend who keeps all my secrets.

But there was one secret that she kept from me.

Wisdom's perception of herself is twisted, tainted by her ED. You and I would see her as a beautiful young woman, not as stick-thin as a Barbie doll, but rather a dark-haire mystery, with large doe-eyes that shine in her happy moments and beg you to ask for her name.

Wisdom sees herself as an ugly glutton that needs to shed her layers to even be considered human.

She's gotten help of course, but not before her ED infected all of us.

Her friends wondered why she'd disappear into the school bathroom after lunch for what seemed like hours. I wondered why she'd squirm so mucb when we watched shows that flaunted size-00 women in swimsuits, telling us that we needed to look like them to be considered beautiful, to be worth looking at. She didn't actually believe that, did she?

The EDPeeps, her support group that I am a stranger to, was able to help her where I could not. She was able to meet others that suffered from the same poisonous thoughts that inhibited her from seeing how truly beautiful she is, and take comfort in knowing that she is not the only one suffering from that torture. I, being an outsider, will never fully comprehend how someone so beautiful can feel so ugly and worthless, how looking at a mirror can instantly shatter someone's self esteem. But the EDPeeps live it; day in and day out, they must silence the voice in their heads that tell them they're worthless and disgusting for feeding their bodies. They fight battles that leave their psyches disfugured and their hearts scarred, battles that I will never see in my life. They have no choice but to be strong, no choice but to live through a perceptual nightmare every day, hating how much body mass they carry, always trying to get rid of one more ounce of matter on their bodies that can't shed one more sliver, lest they shrivel up and disappear altogether.

The EDPeeps, and my Wisdom. I'll always admire them. They remind me how precious the little things in life are, and how easily we can take for granted a genetic trait, a mouthful of nutrients, even our own reflection in the mirror. Because not everyone can.