Personal Narrative: An Outsider

Since my fourteenth birthday my life has been a series of perfect catastrophes. An outsider would unquestionably deem my life desirable, although nonetheless average. Since fourteen I’ve appeared to have it all; and if you look the part you’re halfway there, right? I say this because people who don’t know me very well will likely describe me as “pretty, popular, and smart,” which are all great attributes to have, but the outside doesn’t always match the inside. I’m not going to tell you I was utterly miserable from the day I entered teenhood because if I did I’d be lying, and wouldn’t that be an awful way to introduce myself to the individuals who hold the power to better my life for the next four years? Anyway, at freshly fourteen I was actually

He was a type A, workaholic with OCD with no tolerance for anything out of his control. I loved him dearly, but as an overweight child he constantly taunted me in hope of changing my habits. Unfortunately, this unsurprisingly backfired and I began to turn to destructive behaviors. Ninth grade was when the problems began. I had a boost of self- confidence from this new found acceptance from a popular new group of friends, but there was a familiar, silent pressure there. My friends were beautiful, supportive, and interesting, but they were also certainly competitive. It wasn’t that to be in this group you had to be a certain size, it was just the way I felt when I bought a size three as my friends indulged in size zeros. I wouldn’t realize for years that I was a perfectly normal size, but at thirteen it’s very different. I came to a simple solution; if I lost weight, all three parties would be pleased, not only my father and my friends, but myself as well. If only I knew what it could lead to. I began strict dieting and weighed myself twice daily without fail. I had set an initial goal weight, but once I met it, I kept aiming lower and lower. My perfection-driven psyche scrutinized every inch of my

I lived in a vicious cycle of restricting, over-exercising, and purging for what seemed like a lifetime. My immersion into my disorder made everything else seem inconsequential. I was too weak to stay awake normal hours and my grades took a drastic toll. My life was in shambles. I had grown up dreaming of being a doctor but I couldn’t even take care of my own body. When I realized my dreams were in jeopardy, I knew I needed help. I was willing to do anything to get my life back, it had been almost three years. I was then diagnosed with bulimia nervosa, major depressive disorder, and generalized anxiety disorder. At least I had a name for all I’d