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Narrative Essay On Eating Disorder

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I finally realized that I needed help after my parents asked me if I had an eating disorder. I felt angry when they asked me that, I didn’t speak to them for two days. It wasn’t that I was mad at them for caring, I was mad that they were noticing the wrong things. I left the room and sat in a different one for hours thinking that there was a more obvious disorder that could be present, but wasn’t acknowledged. That was the moment I realized that my quirks weren't really quirks. I finally realized that something was terribly wrong with my mental health, enough to sub consciously call it a disorder. I did more research online about OCD. Sure enough, I was a perfect match, at least according to google. I approached my parents about getting help. …show more content…

Mom, Dad, my doctor, my therapist, my swim coach, my best friend Nick, and another close friend Zach (I became friends with Nick and Zach after my other friends abandoned me). I originally wasn’t going to tell Zach, but Nick made six people, so I had to. Why did I have to? Because if I didn’t bad things would happen. I kept my OCD to these seven people until I was out of therapy because I really didn’t want people to peg me with that label and treat me different. I didn’t want people keeping an eye out for how I reacted. It’s actually the reason I still haven’t told my sisters. When I told my friends about my OCD I had mixed reactions from them. Some of my friends related to me. This is how I found out Nick had Bipolar Disorder. Some felt bad for me and tried to support me. Zach would listen to me when I couldn’t talk to anyone else about what was going on. After therapy I opened up to more friends, some tried to aggravate my OCD by poking me like I was a dead squirrel in the road. They giggled while they ask “does that bother you” trying to get me to panic. I got angry with them and quickly corrected this behavior. I forgave them and they are still my friends (and if you judge me for this then fuck …show more content…

The girls scouted the party first and told us it was a good party to get into. The party was over crowded so he charged us $15 dollars to get in instead of the normal $5. We walk inside and up a rickety staircase. Halfway up the stairway the smell of sweat, booze, and weed hits me all at once. I cough a couple of times and have trouble getting over it. Next, the volume hits me, I can’t hear myself think over music I don’t like. I have no clue what the lyrics are or even what the person is saying, but somehow everyone else does and is singing along. Then we enter a sea of people. There are five people touching me one of which is a girl sloppily making out with a guy against the wall, another is using me for support because he can’t stand up anymore the other three are people trying to get to center like me. The smell, the people, the volume of the music was too overwhelming. My friends are pushing through the crowd. I can’t maintain my relaxation exercises because I can’t breathe, I can’t think, and I can’t get away from everyone touching me. That’s when I see the girl I sit next to in Psychology 101. The perfect excuse to

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