A year of reflection

As sophomore year comes to a close, I have deeply reflected on how much I have changed since last year. Last year I was suffering from anorexia (granted, I still am recovering, but I have made much progress), I was depressed, anxious, along with a whole string of self-doubt and myriad number of other issues.

1 out of 5 women struggle with an eating disorder. Image retrieved from Harvard Health.

For those who actually read my blog, or know me personally, here is a old article I wrote for the Campus Chronicle from roughly a little over a year ago:

Stress is completely normal, especially in college. This week alone I have an ungodly of notes to take, quizzes to complete, and I have a speech to give in class. Most nights I go to bed at 5am, and I’m lucky if I get even six hours of sleep. While maintaining a 4.0 this semester poses its own challenges, dealing with much deeper mental health issues seems to consume the entirety of my day.

As an adolescent, my self-image was far from perfect. My past history of an eating disorder, anxiety, along with a myriad number of other issues plagued my high school career. Now, as a freshman in college, I seemingly have a better grip on reality… or so I like to believe.

Granted, it is undoubtedly crucial to take care of your body, but I somehow found a sickening way to justify the harm I was doing to my body. These past several months have been stressful to say the least. Waking up at noon, going to class, followed by ten hours of homework took an immense toll on me. I wouldn’t eat, and instead would drink a (soy) chai latte with several espresso shots. Sounds healthy right? In result of my newfound unhealthy habits, I began to isolate myself from my friends and would rarely go out on weekends. I justified my wrongdoings because if I was involved in extracurriculars, had essentially perfect grades, and my parents were happy, was I really doing harm to myself? Wrong.

I hit rock-bottom in mid-January. After relapsing with my eating disorder, my life was crumbling right before my eyes. My family and friends recognized the unhealthy weight loss and my tendency to neglect talking to them. In a span of five days I somehow lost twelve pounds. I was in denial of the harm I was doing to my body. In retrospect, I think I only had maybe ten hours of sleep that week. My mind was consumed with meeting deadlines and maintaining my GPA, that I vigorously worked to maintain. Perhaps my lack of eating, excessive amount of stress, or even my anxiety was the cause of my impending fear of failing. To be completely honest, I am not quite sure what caused me to be so reckless. In a sickening sense, if I could deprive myself of food, happiness, or other necessities, then maybe I would feel a sense of control. I knew I couldn’t handle my own stress, but that goes without saying.

Yes, I do in fact attend therapy on a regular basis. It is isn’t easy, especially since I have had bad experiences with therapists in the past. However, I was pleasantly surprised with the counseling services on the HPU campus. Even a mere hour with one of the counsellors helps out tremendously. All students should take advantage of the resources HPU offers, and it’s easy to set up as well.

For me, I am taking baby steps, and by no means am I cured completely. My anorexia will always be a part of who I am; but, I should be reminded that I am much more than my eating disorder. Luckily, I was able to spend spring break reflecting on my the past several months, and in fact, it did help. If I was able to conquer my eating disorder once, I can surely do it again. I am not alone. Just like the 30 million people of all ages and genders who suffer from an eating disorder, I am just as strong and capable of conquering my innermost demons.

This month I pledge to take better care of myself. I promise to take better care of my body. I promise to eating healthy and nutritious foods. I promise to see the positive in everything. College is about making new and lasting relationships. I declare happiness. Every day is a new day. Recovery is always possible.

I am proud to say that I am longer the girl who dreaded going out with friends or being social. I am strong. I am happy. I am Ally.