Graduating high school, a breakup, moving out, new job, and finding out I have a genetic mutation that causes cancer (I have a 80-90% chance of getting it) are some of the things that really caused me to go over the edge my first semester of college. I kind of assumed I was about to start this amazing life. Full of new things like partying, dating, and having the time of my life. I put a lot of pressure on it, and when my "new life" wasn't what I thought it would be? I cracked.
I was used to life being pretty easy. Until all these changes, I really lived a stress free lifestyle. I wasn't used to the pressure, and I started to feel anxious about everything and anything. I started to over plan my life, and I would break down if something didn't go how I thought it would.
My head hurt constantly, my back ached, and I was nauseous all the time. I lost weight fast, and everyone seemed to notice it but me. I never wanted to lose weight, and to be honest I was satisfied with my body starting college. I didn't want to gain weight of course, but I definitely wasn't trying to lose weight in the start. Is it possible to have too much veggies? Well no, but you can't live off of them alone.
I wasn’t enjoying life, so I assumed that if I tried to perfect myself even more, life would become perfect overnight. And once I began to eat less, it became addicting. I was addicted to being able to resist fresh baked cookies or pizza when no one else could. Addicted to waking up at before school to work out. Or being able to skip dinner anytime. And then when I lost the weight, I was able to get rag and bone jeans because the smallest sizes are always on sale. I was starting a new chapter in my life that I expected to be amazing, and it wasn't. But at least I felt like I was a perfect human being.
Except I wasn't! I was an uptight, grumpy, roommate who was never fun. I was a distant friend, and a timid student. I had no creativity, and produced no art. I didn't listen to Justin Bieber, I didn't dance like an elderly person once. I was clearly not myself.
It took a year of tears, hugs, and tons of therapy to get through this, but I’m now at a time in my life where I feel like myself again. But now I have this new crazy, powerful love and respect for myself that I never had before. My body gave me a second chance at a healthy life so my brain and my heart have promised to treat it with respect for the rest of it.
What does a healthy life mean for me? I exercise 5-6 days a week, and eat a balance of fruits, veggies, carbs, and fats. But I also proudly down a 32 ounce coke zero a couple times a week, and I will never turn down frozen yogurt. On someone's birthday I will always eat cake.
Remember that you deserve to be loved, and the one person you can depend on is yourself. Keep your head up and your heart full, and it’s okay if you need doctors and medicine to do this.
now-- happily at a healthy weight :)