From the Archives

When I was going through files on my computer this morning, I found this picture:

This photo was taken the day after we adopted Callie in October of 2007. It's been nearly three years since then, and I find it kind of mind-boggling to consider how different everything is now, and how much difference three years - a mere drop in the lifetime bucket - can make. Preston and I are now married (in October 2007 we were engaged), Callie no longer looks skeletal and skittish, but has a sleek, glossy coat, regularly receives pieces of pepperoni as treats, and is currently curled up next to Preston on our bed. And although I'm sure I was happy on this day, in this moment - goodness knows I was thrilled to be adopting Callie - in October 2007 I was still seriously depressed, and very much struggling with disordered eating. That's not to say I don't struggle with depression and body image now, because I do - I think I always will. The difference is that, with the help of a therapist and an anti-depressant that I take daily, every day becomes a little bit easier. I still have bad days and even bad weeks, but I no longer feel overwhelmed by my depression; instead, I know that it's there, and work every day to treat it. Treating it certainly hasn't been easy (see: this whole freaking year), but oh my gosh. Now that I'm on the other side (or, perhaps more specifically, on my way to the other side), I can't believe I ever spent so long cloaked in a cloud of depression. It just breaks my heart.

And when I look at this picture, I so wish that I could whisper in this Mary Frances' ear and let her know that everything really would be ok. That it would take time, but that one day she would have the strength to let go of her eating disorders, to face her depression, and to be honest with herself. That life wouldn't always be like this, and that, in three years, she'd no longer have to fake her smiles, because, for the first time in a long time, she'd really feel them.