Since the age of 12 I have struggled with my body image. I grew up in a small town and in the younger grades, it was very cliquey. All of the popular girls were skinny and pretty, and I did not fit that mold. I was not the skinniest girl or prettiest girl and I always wished I could look like them.
I tried to change myself in unhealthy ways. Since then I have struggled with eating disorders and that is when my depression started. I joined more sports teams so I could be considered cool and also lose weight. I started up lacrosse again, which was one of the main sports in my town. I knew I was not good at the sport but I continued to play anyway. I was still unhappy, though, with my body. I then stopped eating completely. It happened gradually, but over time It became very unhealthy and I would go three days only eating three granola bars. On the days that I did eat, I felt ashamed of it, so I began making myself throw up. Imagine a 12 to 13 year old doing this to herself and having no one to reach out to. Since I had no one to talk to it began to take a big toll on me. I kept all of my emotions on the inside and did not reach out for help.
One thing that really made my struggle worse more recently is how society views some of these things. My parents are older than the parents of my peers and in their generation, depression wasn't as open as openly discussed it is today. When I first approached my parents about my depression they did not believe me at first and thought it was just a phase.
They acknowledged that there was a problem that when they got a phone call from my school's guidance counselor saying that their 7th-grade daughter had cuts on her arms. They decided to take action and put me into group therapy but I knew they both did not fully understand why this was happening. My mom would continue to bring me to therapists while my dad struggled to understand.
As of recently I brought it to my parent's attention that this cycle of going from therapist to therapist and having only one parent know what was going on could not go on any longer. I expressed how I needed them to understand what was going on with me because the medication will not just make me magically better. Of course, I knew making my father understand was not going to be easy. He would always say “Why are you depressed? You have a great life and a great family.” My response would always be the same, “I don't know, Dad.” Which is ultimately true. Depression just kind of hit me. Yes, factors like my eating disorders sped up the feeling of depression it but it did not cause it. I let them know that a pill will not just make everything better and that even if I seem happy, I am still depressed.
In today's society, the media portrays eating disorders as a cool thing. In shows that I have watched, I have heard jokes made about eating disorders and it's not okay. In my own experience, I have heard people say “oh my god, I'm so depressed about my grade.” No, no, you are not depressed. You're upset. Or I will hear someone say they need to be anorexic because they ate pizza, but they are joking about it. It's also hard hearing people think they have a disorder but they really don't. Sometimes I would wish I could just yell and scream “No. You do not have that. Step in my shoes and you will know.” But I never do say that to anyone.
With my recovery, it has been a struggle opening up to people about it but I am now comfortable with talking about my struggles with these things. During this time, it was even hard to open up to my parents about what was really going on. Once I started to open up about everything that was going on to my friends and family, my recovery began to become easier. I got help and I am so grateful for that. I started to be more accepting of my body. I would stand in the mirror and look at myself and say “this is who I am, I can loose weight, I can gain weight, but this is my body type and I cannot change that.” this is something that I would do every single day.
Even now, I sometimes have to do that to go out on the beach in a bikini. I had to do this to get myself to go to prom because I felt insecure in my dress. Although this may seem ridiculous, this has helped me with so much. I had a very good support system with my friends and family, especially my best friends who have dealt with the same issues. I am 16, going on 17 in two months, and I am doing much better. I am working every day to get myself better and every day I am helping people with their issues. My anxiety and depression still affect my life every day but I know I'm improving. I have stopped self-harming; almost 3 years clean.
I do not let my diagnosis define me. I am getting better with my eating, but I still have anxiety about eating in front of large groups of people, like at pasta parties for sports teams. I know I may not seem like I struggle with eating disorders but it's an everyday struggle for me.
To my best friends since birth, you guys have been my motivation to get better and seeing how well both of you have done makes me more determined to recover. To my best guy friend, as you always have been there for me, you helped me with my recovery and let me know everything is going to be okay. To one of my best friends, thank you for letting me vent to you when I was down, and when I was upset or had anxiety over our shared past, you were there. Mom, thank you for being the hard-ass with these things, making me go to therapy and doing everything in your power to help me get better. Dad, I know you still do not understand all of this but it's okay, I know you just want me to be happy. And to my dog who has passed, thank you for always being the first person there when I was crying. I miss you every day and I love you so much.
