This time last year was filled with joy for the approaching new year and outward happiness. My friends were great, my boyfriend was one of a kind, my grades were nearly perfect, and I knew that I would be attending my dream school in the fall.

All of the building blocks that made up Hannah were sitting on solid ground.

A stressful day with school would prompt going home to run it off. I felt like I was sweating the negativity out of my body. Running got boring after a while, so I turned to the gym. I was going merely to enjoy myself. Working out made me feel good.

My relationship with the gym went downhill pretty quickly. It gave me a dangerous amount of control. I forced myself to use the machines until a certain number of burned calories showed up on the screen.

I noticed as the weeks went on that my body was stronger, but smaller. I thought that I was doing it all right. My anxiety was almost non-existent when I was at the gym, which was such a freeing feeling.

After I stopped feeling sufficient release at the gym I needed something else to manipulate, so I turned to food.

I cut my diet fast. Anything that wasn’t prepared by me wasn’t going to go in my mouth.

I deceived my parents by telling them that I was eating at school when I was giving it to other people or throwing it away. I lied to my boyfriend and my best friend when they asked if things were okay with my eating. When people made comments about how little I ate or how healthy I ate, I grieved internally because I was starving. Unfortunately, the voice in my head thrived off of those “compliments” from other people and the downward spiral continued.

I thought nothing more about restricting my food or my obsessive exercise than that I was getting “healthier.”

After months of exhaustion from burning more calories than I was consuming, I started to slip away and the voice in my head got louder. I couldn’t focus, I was always freezing, and I analyzed every bite of food that went in my mouth.

Eating to work out became working out to eat.

I was tired all the time, I bruised like crazy, my hair was falling out, and I was consistently on edge. I cut so many people out because I didn’t have the energy to be the Hannah that people knew me as.

I sat in church one morning and heard the word of the Lord that we are fearfully and wonderfully made. My heart broke when I looked down at my baggy pants and realized the abuse that I was imposing on my body. I’m not really sure how or why it took me so long to come to that realization.

It was time for someone else to help me.

A few days later, that voice in my head had a name. I called him Ed (Eating Disorder). Ed was the one telling me not to go out to eat. Ed was the one waking me up at 7 in the morning on a Saturday just to workout. Ed was a bully. Ed sent me to treatment. The first week of treatment was hard. Ed’s voice overpowered Hannah’s voice for nearly the whole summer.

I was so incredibly selfish during this time that Ed had me wrapped around his finger.

I pushed through the summer in therapy and on a meal plan (that I despised). All of my meals were supervised and I sat there until they were finished. I cried over oatmeal. I sat for 45 minutes and stared. I dreaded meals and couldn’t get through one without anxiety over the next.

But I fought.

Once I started eating more and working out less I was consciously aware of what I had done to my body, but I still lacked motivation to get better.

I needed a new motivation.

It became: "gain weight or no college."

Samford was my dream school and nothing was going to stop me from moving in 2 weeks later. I set my mind to getting better and let school be my motivation.

It worked.

I got stronger and healthier in those 2 weeks and I was able to ignore Ed more and more every day. I was so proud of myself.

I got to Samford and was fed up with the whole situation. I refused to be “the girl with the eating disorder.” I thought that I was strong enough to ditch the meal plan and go about my new life on my own.

I was so wrong.

As soon as I stopped following the meal plan Ed took over again. His voice became stronger than mine and my body started getting weaker.

Hannah knew that this wasn’t right. Hannah knew that she had come so far and needed to fight, but Ed won the first couple of weeks here at school.

I dropped weight quickly.

I felt so powerless in August, but I knew that I had to fight.

The new community of girls at Samford and my loved ones at home built me up and ceaselessly reminded to be big and brave.

I was ready to break up with Ed for the 2^nd time.

I began to fight hard against Ed. He didn’t deserve my time. I prayed harder than I have ever prayed in my life for strength and forgiveness. I pleaded to be trusted by my loved ones. I wanted so badly regain control over my own body.

I wanted it and I got it.

I’m approaching the year mark from when the smallest of Ed thoughts began. Reflecting back on the past year is not easy. I lied more than I have ever lied in my life, neglected my body, and completely went against glorifying God through my actions.

I sit in the library at Samford typing this with December approaching quickly.

I am filled with joy to reflect on the complete 180 from sickness back to Hannah. I have learned more in this past year about grief, redemption, self-love, being thankful, and the power of prayer than ever before.

Processing my recovery has been such a powerful experience. While I wouldn’t go back and relive this journey, I am thankful for the experience. I am learning to love myself the right way, I am learning about forgiveness for the people that I’ve hurt over the past year, and most importantly I am re-learning the joy of a balanced lifestyle.

I am sharing my 360 in 365 to let you know that you are more than capable of achieving the same.

Much love,

Hannah