Alana G.
Photography by Natalie Bell
Before reading this letter, we'd like for you to know it discusses Alana G.'s experience with an eating disorder. If you think that reading about this will be triggering for you, we encourage you to take a pause before reading this letter, center yourself, and prepare any resources you may need to access after reading it. If you'd rather not read this letter, we encourage you to read a letter on a different topic, such as Anonymous's or Dana Q.'s letter. If you're reading this, your feelings are valid.
If you’re reading this, you have the power to change your mindset.
My mindset has always been centered around working to get what I want. In my early teenage years, I had lofty goals, but one thing stood as a barrier—the way I looked. My mental capacity, filled with school, sports, and friendships, also became filled with self-comparison and judgment. What began as an innocent lifestyle change—pursuing healthy habits and weight loss—spiraled into a dark decline in my mental health that I continue to struggle with today.
I started running cross country in high school and fell in love with the sport. Running has always made me feel strong and confident, especially when coupled with the intensity of my training, which changed my appearance. Unfortunately, the interaction with a developing eating disorder and athletics put me in a place of rigidity. While I began obsessing over my races, miles run, and workouts, I also began furthering my obsession with calories and weight.
Having the power to take full control over your routine and your body is a refreshing feeling–until it results in self-destruction.
If I wasn’t in full control of my routine, it was as if I were nothing. My eating had to be perfect. My running had to be perfect. My body was under my control, and no one else’s feedback mattered, not my parents, friends, or doctors. A lack of adequate nutrition left me lethargic and unable to meet the demands of my sport. My body faced the consequences quickly: bloodwork became abnormal, my stomach contracted, my digestive system shut down, and my heart began to beat irregularly and slowly. I was admitted to the hospital after being repeatedly told I could die from what I was doing, and I simply didn’t care.
Controlling my food and my body was an escape from reality that often made me feel at peace, giving me instant gratification and dopamine rushes. In the long run, it only furthered my isolative tendencies. As I underwent treatment, I was still unable to give up control. I was naive and didn’t think of the consequences. My mindset at the time was indifferent to any health complications. When my doctors told me my heart was in danger again, I expressed ambivalence. I thought if this was the trajectory my life was on, then so be it. However, I was determined to start school and refused to let medical issues get in my way, so I was discharged from the hospital and, a couple of days later, moved into my dorm at SMU.
Originally, I was having a great time in college, despite my mental and physical health getting in the way. I’d like to contrast any sort of glamorization of eating disorders because I was horrified with myself and my behaviors. I continued cycles of restricting, binging, and purging, all while I pretended everything was fine, in fear of judgment, all throughout my first semester and into my second. In a new environment, state, and school, why would there be any reason for others to like me if they knew I was engaging in these destructive actions? What if I was labeled like I have been in the past? I felt as if I kept losing more and more parts of myself. I was burdened with guilt, shame, and secrecy– because I was telling lies to everyone who cared about me.
It took a major shift in my mindset to get me to where I am now. Seeking to improve myself and embracing the support of friends, family, doctors, and therapists has helped me change my mindset away from destructive habits. Now, I seek to gear my life down a path where I can maintain healthiness. The way I look does not mean that I don’t still struggle, as it is for anyone going through or recovering from an eating disorder. But now I try to view my life as valuable, affirming that I am capable of accomplishing what I want to do.
Often, I reminisce on when I was younger and think that I wouldn’t want that girl to miss out on opportunities in life.
Reframing my negative and immediate thoughts into looking at a more positive, broader scope is a great thing to practice. While I’ve experienced many different approaches to mental health treatment, I truly believe that the motivation to get better has to come innately, from yourself. You are in control of how a large part of your life plays out, with the actions you take for yourself. No one can force you to recover, and I’ve found that adapting my recovery to surround around my thoughts and beliefs has helped me the most. Of course, it’s important to surround yourself with people who care but a major part of shifting your mindset comes from within.
I wish for the day I can look at myself and accept what I see, but I know that will take time. It is a long journey to reframe my mindset of self-destruction into one of self-acceptance. For anyone on this same path, I just want to affirm that you are powerful, strong, and capable. It might seem like an endless battle, but I believe you can get there, and I am always here for support.
Alana G., Southern Methodist University
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