The unnerving wave of panic and nausea that you feel as you sit down for a meal is not a feeling that is un-shared. You glance around to see if it's time to move some of your food around so no one notices that you are neglecting it. The thrill of control rushing through you giving you a twisted feeling of satisfaction as you refuse your food. Soon someone notices that you haven't eaten much and asks if the food is okay, but you smile and take a deep breath as you force a fork into your mouth. Chewing slowly and just trying to swallow is proving to be very difficult, but you hide the anxiety with a smile knowing it will all come back up shortly. The sickening comfort that you find in the bathroom floor and the porcelain toilet because this is the place where you find the most control and can escape the chaos.

You constantly try to distract yourself while out with friends in hopes that you might be able to enjoy the restaurant and company. You reluctantly realize you can't keep this hidden forever, but you still give it your best shot. The scary part is that you no longer suppress hunger because you are no longer hungry. One of your friends begins to take notice and attempts to help you realize that it's a problem, but you don't feel as though you have a problem. Eating seems to be one of the only things in your life that you can control and not eating seems to be a solution to your, less than satisfactory, figure. What could be wrong with that? It seems that you are getting the best of both worlds until your body starts to take a toll from the lack of nutrition and the harsh effects of vomiting. Working out becomes difficult when you can't run without becoming extremely disoriented or you are too shaky to even write. Still your brain feeds you the lies of "damaged goods," "broken beyond repair," "unworthy," and "too far gone."

For years you don't even consider that you might have an eating problem until you go to the doctor to find out you have acquired Hypoglycemia. Your doctor begins to question your eating habits and body image. Before you can even think about the words coming out of your mouth you admit to hating every inch of your body. After your appointment you begin to recognize the distorted and detrimental thoughts you are having. You never thought to bring it up in your counseling sessions because part of you wanted to ignore the problem and the other part didn't realize it was a problem. The first time you accept the problem is on a trip to Guatemala, one of your leaders notices you haven't been eating and pulls you aside to ask you about it. That moment was the moment when you begin to fight your brain and attempt to break your hidden habit. A period of time passes and you seem to be doing a little better and you began talking to your counselor about your struggle.

Throwing up has become cyclic and uncontrollable due to anxiety and your body grew too used to it, but you can eat more than before. Losing 30 pounds in a month and a half was the best time of your life, but that was the breaking point for your mom and she agreed to an anti anxiety prescription. Your vomiting slowly reduced from twice a day to every now and then. Eating became less difficult, but ultimately remains a constant struggle. Throughout counseling and rewiring your thought process you have found ways to combat what led you to struggle. I am proud of you. Many will never see the fight you so strongly fought. God not only sees it, but fought right beside you and carried you through it. I know when life gets stressful, chaotic, and out of control you still struggle. You take it day by day and are recovering wonderfully. It is okay to still struggle and it is okay to still not particularly enjoy eating. Recovery is not an overnight process, but a daily fight. Keep fighting. Choose joy. There's a purpose. God's not finished yet.