Personal Narrative: Anorexia Nervosa

As I walked down the third grade hallway of my elementary school, I caught a glimpse of myself in the door’s window. I took a double take, as I initially did not recognize that person. I stared at this stranger for what felt like hours. A small lift of my shirt revealed the severity of my condition; with every breath, I watched my ribs push through my pale skin. My hair had begun to form a shaggy halo, marking where my once waist-length hair had broken off from malnutrition. 20 pounds lighter than what I was just months earlier. This image has been forever etched in my mind. Every morning when I comb my hair, there is a constant reminder of a point in my life that has been a driving force for the past nine years. At the tender age of 8, I fell victim to a condition known as Cibophobia. This takes on an uncanny resemblance to Anorexia Nervosa; however, I did not choose my fate. As the name suggests, I had a fear of eating. The time leading up to this point had been bumpy; I was in a new environment, a victim of bullying,
I soon realized that if I allowed this fear to consume me, my dim future would fade completely before my teenage years. I watched my brother apply for colleges and succeed in his senior year of high school. From then on I was determine to brighten my future. I began to add more foods to my diet, which now consists of more foods than where I started down that path. I immersed myself into my school work and clubs, because I needed to take every opportunity life presented me with, in order to reach my end goal. By the fourth grade I discovered I wanted to become a lawyer when I grew up. This meant more school work. I had made a complete 180 by the time I reached middle school. I was not affected by the hardships in my life, and instead was able to become a determined