Everybody knows what an eating disorder is, the main types; anorexia and bulimia. We are taught to identify them so we can help a friend if needed. Luckily (I say that because that's what it seemed like for a while) with my crazy schedule and my move across the country it was harder to catch, some people suspected, I know because they asked, but I felt fine. I was losing weight and to me that was a good thing. But then I stopped losing, my metabolism was shutting down from only allowing myself 500 calories a day and the monster was getting scarier and scarier because I wasn't getting any thinner. When I was nearly late for school because I spent 20 minutes at the store trying to find a drink that wouldn't make me hate myself for drinking it, I knew I had a problem. That night I crawled into bed and texted the first person I could think of and finally shared what I had been trying so hard to hide.
Looking back I'm shocked that that's what broke me down, a simple drink, when what should've scared me was that I hadn't eaten for two days at that point and it would be another full day before I ate. And honestly I'm still not OK, therapy helps, my therapist is amazing, I honestly think if we were the same age and had met under different circumstances then we could've ended up as friends. But some days fighting is too hard and I don't eat. And it's hard when I look in the mirror because I don't see a difference. All I want is to be skinnier and that way of thinking needs to stop.
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