Have you ever been in a box of desolation and despair? Having struggled with an eating disorder from a young age until about a year and a half ago, I had hit rock bottom.

I was practically suffocating from the inside out. My self-hatred ran so deep I couldn't see the light anymore. I didn't know how to fix it. I was glued to my depression. I had been in therapy for about six years, and I had convinced myself that being alone would prevent me from feeling pain. No one could ever disappoint me if they weren't ever there at all. I kept going down a destructive path, I shut everyone out of my life. I isolated myself completely and tried to hide from the pain, but it was right there suffocating me. I cried more than I smiled and truly believed I was not worth a single thing.

Living seemed worthless. I was ashamed of who I was and ashamed of my mistakes. I wanted to be perfect and I thought if I wasn't, then I wasn't worth being here. I hated myself for being "weak" and hated myself for absolutely everything. I would look in the mirror and tell myself how disgusting and worthless I was. I loathed the fact that I was dealing with an eating disorder because so many others had more hardships than I did. I was drowning, sinking, just withering away.

I was extremely lucky to have a mother who never let me give up. She fought for me and fought for who I was. I had a family who loved and supported me. I also has an amazing therapist. I wanted to be happy, and I wanted to live the life that I had dreamed of, but I couldn't figure out how. I finally decided to go into residential treatment. I was so unbelievably afraid. I had never been more terrified in my life. The facility was hundreds of miles away from home, and I was left in a room full of strangers. It was the most intense emotional pain I had ever been through. Eating disorders are complex disorders. It took me a long time to map out how I developed one, and to do so, I had to dig through years of buried emotions through my childhood and tween years.

Before treatment, I hated being vulnerable. I absolutely despised crying in front of others (still not super fond of that one), but I learned that vulnerability is sacred. Being vulnerable may open you up to hurt, sure, but it's not a weakness – it's strength. There is no security blanket in vulnerability. It's raw, but it will open you up to whole new world of connections. I never thought I would make it through. I couldn't even imagine my life beyond that time frame because I didn't believe I should be able to live. I was fighting a war within myself based on society and what I believed made a person beautiful, which was a physical, outward beauty. My mind was lost in the thought that perfectionism was the only choice, but sharing my fears with others that had similar struggles helped me see that I was wrong. I learned to look at myself through the eyes of others. I was truly touched by everyone in treatment.

I am now sharing my inner struggle so others will know that no matter what they face, there is always light even in the darkest of times. My eating disorder was one of the darkest times of my life, it was excruciating. But now, I've not only discovered who I am, but I've also discovered an inner strength that is unflappable. There is always hope – you just have to reach out with all you have and find it. We are human, we are imperfect, but we are all worth something. Our story, our courage, our strengths and how we treat others is what makes us beautiful. I learned to love the girl in the mirror. I learned to love myself wholeheartedly. I'm happy and free of the chains that held me down. It's a journey that will never be perfect, but it will always be mine.