I've struggled with my weight for as long as I can remember.
I've always had bad eating habits. I'm over-indulgent with a diagnosis of BPD, I'm a boredom-eater and an emotional eater.
However, I was in the best shape of my life right before college. After my ex-boyfriend dumped me and most of my friends walked out of my life, I put my energy into my revenge body.
I was the healthiest I'd ever been!
However, things didn't stay that way. It's kind of a given you'll gain weight in college, which I did.
From freshman to junior year, I was still a gym rat but I didn't eat well or monitor my drinking habits. I had gained about 20 pounds since starting college, but I was still a pretty healthy person.
However, everything changed during my senior year of college, AKA the worst year of my life.
I was going into my senior year with high expectations, none of which were met.
During my junior year, I was on top of the world! I started writing for Odyssey, I was doing public speaking and comedy events with my professor, I'd made the most amazing friends I could ever ask for, I was on the Executive Board for my school's Odyssey team, I had two research jobs waiting for me when I returned to school, I made straight A's, and I was in love with someone who loved me back!
However, by the time I came back to school, everything I had the year before was suddenly taken away from me.
Our school's Odyssey team dismantled, I had no time for public speaking events, I rarely ever saw my friends due to our busy schedules, the organization I once loved with everything I had in me fell apart, my grades were slipping, the person I thought I loved abused me, and I was severely depressed and suicidal.
The only thing that made me feel even somewhat human was food. I became a binge eater, consuming nothing but junk food.
I ate fast food almost every day. If I didn't, I felt physically and emotionally empty.
Food was pretty much the only thing that made me happy.
On top of that, I went from being a gym rat to rarely exercising. I had no energy to leave my bed except to get food.
Because of this, I gained 30 pounds in one year, going from 140 to 170.
I absolutely hated myself.
However, many people told me I "didn't even look bad" or I shouldn't "talk negatively about my body."
They didn't understand why I hated myself.
It had nothing to do with the way my body looked. It had nothing to do with the number on the scale.
It had everything to do with the fact that I wasn't treating my body with respect.
I knew what my body needed and I neglected it.
After graduation, the first place I went to was my therapist's office.
She helped me make sense of a lot of the chaos I went through, and now I see her twice a month.
I vowed to take my body back. I go to the gym at least five times a week, I monitor my eating habits, and I make sure to love the body I have while I work toward the body I want.
I still feel like a prisoner in my own body, but one day I'll be strong enough to bust through the wall and escape to freedom.
