I’m done pretending.

I’m done pretending that I am all right and healthy.

I’m done pretending that how I’m feeling will get better in time.

I’m done pretending that my relationship with food isn’t fearful.

I grew up having all kinds of self-confidence and body issues. It started as early as elementary school. I can remember in second grade, SECOND grade, that I thought that I had bigger legs than all the boys and girls in my class. As a 7-year-old, I was pinching my skin and worrying about how I looked in my clothes.

Seven. I was seven years old.

Things haven’t gotten much better. As elementary school continued, I continued to worry about my body. What I looked like compared to my friends or wishing that I would one day look another way were all that consumed me. Middle school was even worse.

Oh god, middle school. *shivers*

On top of all my own issues, I was dealing with hundreds of other cranky, whiny, dramatic middle schoolers like myself. Middle school was centered on drama and what everyone else was doing. So of course, I was self-conscious about my every move. I remember having meltdowns before going to school because I didn’t like how something felt or looked on my body. My friends would jokingly call me “Thunder Thighs,” because I was so muscular. I used to wish that I was anorexic because I thought that that would solve all my problems.

You know something is wrong when a child is wishing they could starve themselves to death.

High school was an even bigger hole. I started to play field hockey as a freshman and immediately lost all the leftover baby fat from middle school. I slimmed out and was very fit. Yet, I feared of growing out my size 00 pants. Somehow, what I saw in the mirror was still a girl who needed to be skinnier.

In my first few years of high school, I could eat anything I wanted and not worry about adding a single pound. I was so active that it didn’t matter that I ate Oreos every night for dinner. Junior year of high school is when things really took a turn for the worse. In the middle of the year, I gained 15 pounds out of nowhere. I was still active and hadn’t changed anything. I had been to several doctors to figure out what was wrong with me. Most told me that it was just puberty and “that’s what happens when you get older” and that I should exercise more.

But I was. I was working out every day. It seemed odd to me that a 95-pound (I’m very short) 16-year-old gained 15 pounds in about a month. I used to sit and make collages of myself to compare how “fat” I was then to how skinny I was a few months before. I started going to the gym even more and even went as far as restricting my diet to 800 calories a day.

Yes, only 800. I would eat almonds and maybe some celery for each meal. Mentally and physically, I was drained.

I would track every single food item that went into my body. And if I went over my limit, you bet your bottom dollar I would be burning those extra calories. Nothing worked and nothing made me feel better.

Finally, I got to college and with it came the supplements. I slimmed out a little but still felt that I was not a “normal” size for myself. I started to obsess with doing my workout guide every day. Even though I dreaded going to the gym, in the back of my mind the thought of eventually being “skinny” was what pushed me each day.

And I did just that. I got back to a “better” weight of 98 pounds and felt that I looked great. But once school rolled around I lacked a balance between eating, working out, and my social life. I once again felt uncomfortable in my clothes and with what I was eating, so I re-downloaded my food-tracking app that I once had relied on in high school. It didn’t last long and I ended up gaining the weight back that I had lost due to my social outing extravaganzas.

I was enjoying my social life so much that I would go out every single night just so I could forget how unhappy I was with everything else. Even when I felt uncomfortable in “going out” clothes, I would go out in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, frankly because I couldn’t give two hoots about what I looked like, but also because it helped me worry less about what was and what wasn’t fitting “right.”

This past summer I decided to not be so obsessive with working out and was confident with what I was eating. I lifted weights 3 days each week and had a fairly clean diet. And again, I ended up losing most of the weight that I was unhappy with but it still wasn’t good enough. The small 2-pack that I managed to gain and all my clothes becoming loose on me again still didn’t satisfy my body “goals.”

The strong and fit girl that I actually was, was not who I saw looking back at me in the mirror.

I weighed myself every morning to see if there was any change.

Now, I am a junior in college and I have started to realize how I do not have the willpower to starve myself anymore. Now, I am stuck in this vicious cycle of eating everything that I can and then trying to not eat the rest of the day. Every time I eat I feel a sickening feeling of guilt come over me, but I can’t find the “power” within me anymore to stop.

I am done pretending.

I’m done acting like that what I’ve been going through is normal.

I have known for a very long time that I have a fearful and unhealthy relationship with food.

I’m either obsessed with how many calories I’m putting in my body or which cookie will taste better at midnight.

I had to stop buying groceries for myself because I end up eating everything in about 2 days. I binge at around lunchtime and then don’t eat again until late at night and binge again.

I didn’t eat breakfast so I’m allowed to overcompensate, right?

I walked around campus a lot and I can eat all this food before bed, right?

Regardless of my knowledge of my own unhealthy habits, I have been too scared to tell people about the whole 9 yards.

I cannot truly say, “I have an eating disorder,” because I have never talked about it with anyone enough to actually be diagnosed with anything.

But I can say that I know I need help. I am tired of fighting this battle alone. I tell myself every night that tomorrow is the day. It’ll be the day I take control of myself and suddenly be healthy again. People tell me all the time to just start working out again, but they don’t understand what is going on in my head -- the fear that I have of my obsessive tendencies taking over again.

I don’t want people to think I am looking for a pity party. I am writing this as a wake-up call to myself. I’m very open with telling people about my life but this has been something that I keep locked away.

I’ll make comments like, “Oh I’m so fat,” all the time and my friends will make comments back, but this is so common among today's girls that no one realizes who is really hurting.

The other day I stood in CVS for about 20 minutes staring at the all the different weight loss pills I could buy. Thinking about how maybe this would make eating not such a scary thing. Finally, I decided that I couldn’t rely on a pill to fix my problem.

I wish I could explain this so that more people could understand. Some people are going to think this is phony and that I just love food or am unhappy with my body. Which ARE both true, I DO love food and I AM unhappy with my body. But it goes deeper than the surface.

I have been struggling for years with either controlling how much, or rather or how little I am feeding myself. I wish I could take what exactly is in my head and put it into words. It feels as if there is a wall built around keeping me from controlling myself. Mentally, I can think of what I need to do and how I can be healthy, but physically I cannot make myself do anything. And this is so frustrating and so tiring. I wish I could take back control of myself but I have been trying now for years and continue to fall under this evil spell.

Eating disorders are real. I have starved myself and I have eaten myself sick. And the whole time, I feel like it's not within my control.

This isn't something you do on purpose. I know in my head what is wrong, but I'm paralyzed from taking action. I have tried for so long to keep this is in the back of my head. I used to see counselors for my anxiety and OCD issues but every time they ask what else is weighing me down, I cannot find the words. I started writing this article 3 weeks ago, but haven't posted it because I still try to make this seem like it's no big deal.

I've finally come to terms that it is the root of all my other "problems" and that nothing is going to make me happy if I don't start here.

Anyone else who is going through something like this, I encourage you to one day seek the help you need. It has taken me nearly all my life to finally admit that this is a problem that I cannot fix. Although I’m quite vocal about all my other problems, for some reason this is the one that scares me the most.