This week is National Eating Disorder Awareness Week. I suppose now is more appropriate timing than ever to share a bit of my story that up until recently has been kept as a secret due to the shame I did not want to face. I finally decided to break my silence last fall. I was looking in the mirror one day and I saw how thin I had become. My friends said I looked great, but I knew that my newfound leanness was not representative of my muscular body type. I could see my ribs beginning to appear and my hip bones being prominent where they used to be hidden. My clothes began to hang off of me more than they used to. But the scariest part of all was that I forgotten what hunger felt like. I was so used to that gnawing feeling that when it went away after I ate something, my brain was convinced I had made a mistake. The only food I ever ate was salad or fries, and I could tell that it was taking a toll on me. I was always dizzy, had trouble concentrating while walking and driving, my skin coloring would come and go, and I was always cold. I was wearing sweatpants in the August heat of Tennessee. I told my roommate and a friend from back home, because I realized that if I continued to go down this path I could endanger myself more than I already had. They were loving and understanding, and immediately expressed support for me and gave me the affirmation I needed. I went the next day to the counseling center at my school, and was assigned a therapist. For several months, I kept track of everything I ate and had to report it to my therapist. Instead of starving myself, I instead was helped in making new habits: to eat healthier and workout regularly. As I watched my skeleton disappear under muscle and natural body fat, I remember for the first time looking in the mirror and going, “Girl, you look freaking great.” Here’s the thing about eating disorders: they warp how you see yourself, then give you a “solution” that involves a destructive habit. In my case, it was starvation. For others, it’s eating an excessive amount, purging things that have been eaten, or a hyper-focus on what can/cannot be eaten. Eating disorders have the power to completely destroy a person, their life, and those around them. They take away everything but convince you that you’re totally fine. Thankfully, I finally swallowed my pride and fear and acknowledged to myself that I was far from fine. I was far from OK. I was far from stable. Today, about 5 months from the day I decided to fight, I can tell you that I am OK. Yes, I still have days where my old habits attempt to resurface. I have days where I so desperately want to insult myself when I look in the mirror. But I have decided that I will never again allow an ED to control me. I have full power over the words I speak over myself, the habits I form, and the way I eat. If you are struggling, know this: you have full control. It feels like you’re out of control, spiraling into a dark void, but that is just another lie the ED will tell you. You have the full ability to take a hold of your life. It is not easy. In fact, it feels like hell and some days I want to stop fighting, because the fight is sometimes more exhausting than starvation. But learning to accept my body and see myself in a healthy way has boosted my confidence, my academic performance, my relational skills, and my mental health. The fight has led to a place of freedom, and once you have tasted freedom, you never want to return to the chains. So, today: I tell myself every day that I am beautiful. I try to eat three meals a day, one of which must be loaded with nutrition. I avoid binging or other ED-related habits. I surround myself with people who speak life and do not dwell on their insecurities. I refuse to sit around and hate on myself. I refuse to listen to any voice that tells me I am not good enough. I refuse to see myself through what I perceive others to see. I refuse to let rejection define my self-image. I never step on a scale or measure my waistline. I eat good food. I work out. I go on hikes. I lay in bed watching Netflix and eating popcorn. I curl up in my Eno and read a book. I live. Reading back over that first sentence I wrote, it saddens me that I included the word “shame.” Shame. That is the reason I refused to admit that I struggled with an eating disorder until last fall.
Don’t be afraid to tell someone that you are struggling. They can help you more than you realize, and more often than not, you will receive support in your fight instead of condemnation. Don’t let your fear of others’ reactions keep you from recovery. Your life is worth more than the confusion of other people. You are worth the help, attention, and fight. You’re beautiful and you deserve to be treated well and to treat yourself well. Seek help. Seek support. If that’s a counselor, an accountability partner, or rehab, don’t be afraid to reach out. ED Helpline: 1-800-931-2237 Resources: nationaleatingdisorders.org Organizations that helped me: NEDA To Write Love on Her Arms So Worth Loving Free and Above
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AuthorI'm a college student with a passion to empower women, spread the love of Christ, and speak truth into the darkness. I also really like cats and Taylor Swift. Archives
October 2018
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