As I sit here debating whether or not I should write this, I have decided that if it helps at least one person out there who is struggling, then it will be well worth the discomfort that comes with revealing my secret. For those of you who don’t know, this week is National Eating Disorder Awareness Week. It is a scary thought, that in the U.S. 30 million men and women will struggle with an eating disorder throughout their lifetime. Eating disorders come in several shapes and forms and can be life threatening if not treated.

The majority of individuals who have never suffered from an eating disorder do not truly understand it. They do not understand the guilt, the compulsion, the obsession, or the unfortunate consequences that come with this disorder. I know this because six years ago, I was one of these people. I was ignorant and could not understand why people did this to themselves. However, six years ago I lost that ignorance and learned the hard way.

After struggling with the acceptance of my body for several years, my downward spiral hit an all-time low my junior year of high school. I was constantly struggling to hold my frail body up, as my blood was struggling to circulate throughout my body. I refused to miss a day at the gym or cut back on my two-and-a-half hour sprint on the StairMaster; it was a part of my daily routine I just could not give up. I was constantly shivering and turning an unfortunate hue of blue, even in sunny 93-degree weather. I was constantly hungry and having thoughts about my next meal, yet I convinced myself I did not really need it. Several lost pounds later, at the age of sixteen, I was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa, and I have spent the past three years of my life trying to recover.

I missed out on hanging with friends, going to school, and going out to family dinners. My time was spent at hospitals, doctors, therapists, and the gym. There was no room for a social life, but in my mind, as long as I had time for the gym everything was okay. Even with all my doctors and treatment underway, my anorexia continued to get worse. I was 5'7" and under one hundred pounds, but I wanted more. 

I can still remember shivering, waiting outside for my bus to come while setting my next weight loss goal. I was going to be able to sit in the front seat of my car, undetected by the sounds of the seatbelt passenger alert. Every time I entered a car and would hear that signal go off, my heart would sink. I was determined to make it stop. 

I had lost sixteen more pounds since the official diagnosis and was well underweight and malnourished. My hair was falling out, my heart rate was off course, and I had not had my period in years. Nobody understood, it was not my fault. I could not control it. It was an addiction. I was addicted to watching the number on the scale drop, addicted to fitting into the tiniest of clothes, and addicted to following my obsessive food rules. It was never ending. As hard as I tried, I simply could not make it stop.

I started a higher level of care, got a new team of doctors, and fought this battle with all I had. By the end of my senior year of high school, I had gained some weight and was able to attend the University of Michigan. I found a team of doctors here in Ann Arbor and planned to continue my road to recovery.

Freshman year of college was an eye opener. I was still so far from healthy. I looked at everything in the dinning hall with such fear that looking back on it now makes me tremble. I did not know what I was supposed to do without my food scale. I had weighed anything and everything that entered my mouth for the past two years -- even lettuce. How was I supposed to just stop?! How was I supposed to break all my food rules?

After a long, hard year of adjusting and struggling, I spent my summer at Renfrew, an intensive outpatient program in New York City. I never thought I would hear myself say it, but I am forever grateful for my time spent at Renfrew. It changed my life. It was the hardest thing I have ever done, but it was also one of the most amazing. After facing my food fears, understanding my triggers, and meeting others who also struggled, I was able to return to Michigan my sophomore year of college in a much better place. 

I had finally restored my healthy weight, but I struggled daily to accept my body. The hatred I had towards it was so immense that I could not focus in class. Instead of taking notes I would end up calculating calories and planning how I would restrict my intake for the rest of the day. I don’t know what triggered it, but about three months ago I grew tired. I was tired of hating my body, tired of counting calories, tired of planning my days around the gym, and tired of missing out on life. I have heard so many people say that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and this long battle made it so very hard to believe that it was true. However, I am finally starting to see that light. I know I am not completely through the tunnel yet, but I am getting there. No, I do not love my body, but I refuse to dwell on it anymore. I have seen the brighter side of life and I will not let this eating disorder take that away from me ever again.

There are still some days when my irrational, eating disorder voice is louder than my rational one. But there are also days when I can clearly hear myself, Sam. Finally, I saw days not organized around food and exercise, and days not ruined because I felt fat. I am finally finding balance and seeing a world outside of this disorder. I never thought that day would come.

If you were to ask me a year ago, or even six months ago, if I could go back in time and never have developed this disorder, would I? My answer would have been yes -- a milliion times yes. But if you were to ask me that today, I can honestly say I don’t know what my answer would be. Yes, I would not have missed out on so many years of my life. Yes, things would have been a lot easier for me. But, no, I would not be the same person I am today. It has made me stronger and wiser. It has made me see things from a new perspective and has shaped me into the girl I am today.

So I promise, to anyone who is struggling now, you will find peace. You will find the light, but not without a fight. This fight will not be easy, but it will be well worth it, so don’t give up. There are good days and there are bad days, but please remember you are not alone.

For those of you who struggle, keep fighting ED (eating disorder) because your voice is way more powerful than “his” will ever be. Remember, the more you push yourself outside of your comfort zone, the more distance you create between you and the disorder.

For those of you who have not been affected by an eating disorder, I hope you have a better understanding of what living with one is like. I hope you can use this knowledge to prevent and to support others who are fighting this battle. For National Eating Disorder Awareness Month, I am a proud survivor and a proud supporter of everyone who faces these demons. Keep fighting. There is a light.