Life is a gift

​I’ve always known I had a complicated relationship with food—all the way back to my teenage years when friends actually had to step in. For most of my life, my mom liked to cook for me. But when she became ill, the roles reversed, and my focus completely shifted to being the person providing her nutrition. During that time, my own issues took a back burner because I didn’t want her to worry. ​Recently, I hit a wall. I ended up very sick, completely fatigued, and my immune system was compromised. The brain fog was so heavy that it was hard to think straight or even understand what was happening to me. Part of that was definitely due to managing my diabetes and getting back on track with my medication. But another massive piece of the puzzle? I realized I was eating nowhere near enough calories—some days as little as 200 calories. ​Here is the thing people miss: I am heavy-set. You can live in a bigger body and still be drastically under-eating. You can be struggling, wanting to sleep all the time, crashing from deep brain fog, and have absolutely no idea why because the math in your head doesn't seem to add up. It can slip up on you without you even realizing it. To make it harder, sometimes even doctors will inadvertently encourage it or praise the restriction because they only see the size of your body, not how little you're actually fueling it. ​It took someone finally asking me, "Hey, have you been eating enough?" for me to look at what I'd eaten and realize, oh. That is actually not enough food. ​I’m sharing this not to vent, but as someone who is actively in therapy and working with an actual nutritionist. It is incredibly easy for these habits to slide back into your life under the guise of just "forgetting," being busy, trying to stretch a tight budget to save money, or even trying to follow medical advice. If you are exhausted and can't shake the fog, sometimes it's worth taking a hard, honest look at your plate.

The biggest realization I’ve had lately is that managing a mental illness isn't a temporary project. For most of us, getting better isn't the same as being cured, and I’m finally realizing that’s okay. We are still getting better. When I stop fighting the reality of how my brain works and accept the tools to help me, the episodes get shorter and the self-hatred starts to fade. Being different is fine. I am okay with managing this for the rest of my life if I have to, because I would rather be here to make a difference and do fun things and see wonderful things around the world than keep waiting to be fixed, when I'm loved for exactly who I am.