Over the years I have struggled with anxiety and depression, an eating disorder, maladaptive daydreaming, and self harm. For a long time I thought I’d never be “normal” or happy. I thought that I was incapable of having healthy relationships and/or a successful, satisfying life. But through hard work, vicious ups and down, persistent hope, lots of support, and plain-and-simple stubbornness I have healed many of my old wounds and learned to live to the best of my ability with
A few days ago I got a notification on my phone that my memory-cloud-data-whatever (can you tell I’m not tech savvy?) was nearly full. So, to make some space I started going through my old photos and deleting unimportant images. At first, seeing photos from the last year or so made me smile. It was a pleasant walk down memory lane: photos of my adorable twin nephews, good times with my friends last summer, beautiful shots from my birthday vacation last winter... However, when
I struggled with bulimia for years.
I had a tangled mix of self esteem, body, and control issues. I remember comments from my school friends and coworkers about how skinny I was, despite the fact that I would eat anything offered to me. I am/was blessed with a great metabolism - genetically predisposed to being a "healthy" weight without really having to try. But then I also added on not eating much in the way of breakfast and rarely packing myself a lu