Just a little help
When I was a young girl I always wondered what I would look like as an adult. What I’d be doing and how successful I’d become in life. Never would I have imagined myself struggling with an eating disorder at 18 years old. It’s an awful long story to explain every single detail that led up to my illness; so I’ll be brief about it.
When I was 17 and single I had been living my best life. That was until a younger boy had insulted me about my weight. I wasn’t overweight or anything but it still hurt even if he thought it was a joke. That summer I decided to be a little more active than I was before. I had just gotten a new fitbit and it would tell me how many steps I could get in each day. I hated running so I just walked around a lot at any time I could.
Later in the summer I met a boy; really nice at first until our 3rd date. He made me feel very uncomfortable with his words and actions and would touch me in a way that made me feel sick. I told him to stop and he wouldn’t which only made me feel worse like it was my fault; so I dumped him. That was when my disorder really started to kick in. I would pace the floor in circles trying to come up with a reason why I felt so guilty about the whole situation with that boy and why he didn’t listen to me.
As I was thinking of the reasons in my head, I wouldn’t eat or sleep very well for weeks turning into months until it was my senior year of high school. My body had completely changed and my skin color was turning very pale. My hair started to fall out but nothing that was happening to me would change my mind of what I was doing to myself. I couldn’t walk the amount of steps I used to anymore in school so I decided to get rid of my food in a different way and started purging. That habit lasted for another 3 months until finally my mum had figured out what I was doing. She and my little sister had shown me an article about a famous woman with anorexia. She was all skin and bones and that scared me out of my mind! She was going to die from that and I was too unless I got some help.
The road to recovery was beyond tough and unimaginable things were going through my mind, but my mom, my sisters, my friends, my doctors and the faith I had in God helped me every step of the way. They are the real reason why I’m alive and standing here today. I couldn’t have done it without them. They cheered me on when I was gaining weight healthfully, they prepared my meals in a way where I could finally enjoy them without the fear of getting rid of it, they pushed me forwards even when I stumbled and relapsed a couple of times, and they kept close watch on my mood and emotions when it was getting too tough to find a good reason to keep recovering.
Now I am 21 years old. I’m happy and healthy and love the work that I get to do as an adult. I hope that my story can inspire those of you who are struggling or help someone who is struggling. Anorexia and bulimia are no joke. They can take lives away, but they don’t have to with the little help those people can get from you because in the end it goes a long way!