Three Years

The past three years of my life have been filled with pain, tears, confusion, hatred, hope, love, and happiness. A little over three years ago was when I began heavily restricting; not letting anything past my lips without measuring, counting and tracking. I became obsessed with exercise; going to the gym every morning at 4:30, in addition to three hours of practice every afternoon. I was not able to focus on school, or even hold a conversation. I became socially withdrawn, and slept all of the time, because I didn’t find joy in being awake.

 

In only three months time, I lost a third of my body weight, along with my personality, friendships, and love for life. On February 15th 2013, I was rushed to the emergency room, and I was diagnosed with severe anorexia nervosa and acute depression. My heart rate was dangerously low, and the doctors were afraid that my kidneys might have been failing. After months of trial and error, I was taken out of school, and admitted into the University of Michigan C.S Mott Children’s Hospital, where I received partial inpatient care for three months.

 

After almost three years of hard work, I can finally smile again. Yes, I gained weight, but I also gained back my glowing skin, my strong hair, and the twinkle in my eyes. I can eat dessert and ignore the voice in my head telling me that I don’t deserve it. I can enjoy cake on my birthday, or an unplanned dinner out with friends. I can sit by the fireplace with my family, sipping hot chocolate, laughing and feeling free. I can eat a dinner prepared by my mom without tears, fights, and slammed doors. I can go a few days without the gym because I know my shape does not define me. I wake up in the morning ready to take on the day. I don’t wake up crying, but instead, I wake up looking forward to the bright sky, and endless possibilities.

I am in no way fully recovered, and I still have tough days, requiring a large amount of strength. But I know that I can handle it because I am strong, and I am a survivor.