Skinny-Fat Girl

Hope in the Hopeless

“I feel fat.” I said to my therapist, bawling, with a red puffy face. Ready to give up—again.

“Fat isn’t a feeling.”

“That’s how I feel.”

“Well, feelings aren’t fact.”

My therapist then entered into a detailed explanation as to why fat wasn’t a feeling, and even if it was, feelings aren’t fact. I never really agreed with her when we had this conversation, which might be why we had it so many times. I didn’t agree with her, but I had no facts to support my opinion. The only thing I had was an irrational, illogical, and inaccurate perception of myself. Obviously, this didn’t qualify me for an award in debating or even grant me the honor of winning the perpetual argument.

This book is my journey with a disease that won many battles in my life. I know that I am one of the blessed ones who had family, friends, and practitioners who believed in me and refused to give up on me.

The intent of this book is by no means to glorify this disease or my journey to recovery. I’m definitely not cured from all of my anxiety, and I certainly still have “fat” days. What has changed is that I am able to, more often than not, identify when my thoughts are wildly irrational.

Throughout the ten years I struggled with anorexia, “fat” was the best way for me to describe my insecurities, self-doubt, and self-hatred that I almost always felt. These feelings were coupled with the constant sensation of being full and bloated.

Looking back, the physical symptoms of this disease were truly life-threatening. However, the negative and obsessive thoughts, compulsive actions, terrible body image, and disabling fear of weight gain are what made life awful for my family and me. I waged war on anything that my eating disorder told me was a threat to being skinny. If I gained even an ounce, I was convinced that I would lose all of the good qualities about myself. I thought that my drive would disappear, along with my straight As. I was convinced I would stop caring about people, and I wouldn’t be as likeable.

This book is not meant to provide therapy, the ticket to recovery, or tricks to those who are currently struggling with an eating disorder. This is simply my road to recovery, which took the effort of many people. It’s my story of learning to push through debilitating fear. I now know when I have to reach out for help.

My goal for this book is to provide hope to friends and families of those struggling with anorexia. There isn’t one magical road to recovery. My route involved the faithfulness of God, family, and a lot of determination.

Most importantly, my hope is that this book exemplifies how God refused to give up on me, used my experience to make me stronger, and created a sense of purpose for my life.

The journey is rough. Really rough. But there’s always hope. Previously, I couldn’t imagine a life without an eating disorder, and eating or exercising without strict rules was unfathomable. It took a tremendous amount of hard work, but looking back on it all, it was well worth it.