Living with a single mother in a small town of pale people, I had a minute taste of what life was. Looking out of my four by four window at the gray, gloomy, depressing haze of mist layering the small town of Centralia, Washington I felt my mood depress, and body ache in areas I did not know existed, slowly shutting the curtain of another dreary day.  I felt limited by the opportunities available, and lacked self-motivation for the success which I knew I was capable of achieving. Not only was I unhappy with the conditions I was living in, but I was also unhappy with myself.

Cold weather and steady sprinkling of rain caused me to never really want to go outside. Sitting and binging on Doritos and SpongeBob episodes was never an issue in my mind until around 2010 when bullying from others about my weight began to hit home, and my self-confidence dramatically declined. I set a small goal that I was going to lose fifteen pounds, within a one month time span. I began to go to the gym and cut out extras, but little did I know that this minute deduction was the introduction to a life/death situation that I found myself veering in to. I cut my food intake to nearly nothing – sometimes only an apple, lying about my food-intake to my parents, and shutting myself off from everyone. Whenever my mom cooked a big dinner I always lied in order to stay on track with my insufficient nutrition plan “I already ate at school,” “I’ll eat later, I’m gonna go to the gym first.” I spent so much time watching the scale that I didn’t realize my lifestyle was not only affecting my health but also my family, grades, friendships, and athletic abilities. Not only had my coach expressed her deep concern for my frailness, and decline in mobile ability, but she benched me for the remainder of the season.

What I saw in the mirror was nothing like reality, my idea of perfection was transformed. September 2010, I went in for a checkup, when stepping on the scale 88.6 pounds popped up on the scale-screen, a dramatic decline from the 138 pounds of my previous visit three months prior. The doctor brought me to another room and took my vitals, but would pause and repeat my heart rate count over, and over. She quickly rushed out of the room, and discussed with the doctors advising my admission to a hospital. My heart rate was at 38 beats per minute, and I was suddenly hit with realization of my situation. Later that evening I was admitted into Seattle Children’s Hospital, and after numerous tests the following day, diagnosed with Anorexia Nervosa. The nurses were so personable and optimistic even though I was going through such a challenging time. They helped me by building my self-esteem and helping me feel loved, and like I had a purpose, which was something I was truly lacking in my everyday life and occurrences. It was in this time that I realized I wanted to be that person, the person that helps others.

Through much recovery, I am happy to say that this eating disorder no longer has control over my life. I want to expand my knowledge of nursing to help others. My passion is to help others through any health situation they may be facing, and give them the support they need to succeed as I once did. Going through my personal bump in the road caused me to find my purpose, and passion of nursing. Through my struggle, I found my strength and for that I am forever grateful.