Growing up, I never thought this could ever happen to me, but it did. It was the perfect mix: A type A personality with not so great/distorted body image, mixed with a disease that takes a lot of effort and research to be on top of, the age at which I got diabetes, along with my own perfectionist tendencies, it was inevitable for me.
I was emitted into an eating disorders hospital the day after Thanksgiving, ironically. I was there until Christmas. It was the worst time in my life, and also the start to a new awakening. I was forced to have big meals, to eat often, and it was an absolute nightmare. I was so tired mentally, physically, and emotionally during this time of intense therapy, it was draining in the best way possible. I felt heard, I felt like people understood me and wanted to help me. I also felt vulnerable and I cried everyday. It was the beginning to the new me. I could relate to people and I started to come out the fog I had been living in. I could stop striving for perfection. Someone told me is was okay to be imperfect and I believed her.