On the outside I am an average looking woman with wild curly hair and a larger than average nose. I am not sexy; I am not hot; I am average. You wouldn’t know by looking at me that I’ve suffered most of my life with anxiety. You wouldn’t know I’ve suffered with OCD since I was a child. You wouldn’t know the struggle I have just to leave the house. You wouldn’t know I’m consumed with fear by the simplest task. On the outside I am a “normal” and “healthy” young woman who has a good life, and don’t get me wrong. I do have a good life. A great life! A great life that I am reminded of everyday when I eat out of the pantry that’s full of food, and when I lie on my king size bed while watching Netflix on my big flat screen TV. So why do I feel like everything is so terrible? Why am I scared of this new TV breaking or the food in the pantry spoiling or poisoning me?

…Why is it so difficult to get out of this bed?

I’m selfish and spoiled. That must be it. I can’t see everything that I have and just live the luxurious and easy life I have been given. If I saw it, I would be happy. I would be optimistic about my current and future life. I would get my ass off the couch and experience all of what life has to offer. Right? I should just be able to dance out of this hell I have created. So why can’t I? How many hours of therapy, medications, meditations, yoga sessions, breathing exercises, oils, etc. do I have to endure before this goes away? The “realist” side of me says never. It will never fully go away just like an old eating disorder lingers around and rears its ugly head at the most enjoyable moment. When you splurge on that cream filled donut after a long day, it’ll say, “Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing?! Should you be eating that? You know that’s going straight to that tire you’re growing above your jeans. Can’t you have some self-control? God, you’re so fat and weak. Of course you’re going to eat it.” What do you do when your bully knows your most precious secrets, your darkest insecurities, your biggest fears, and your deepest wounds? What do you do when the bully you’re running from is you?

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