I was eighteen years old and weighed just shy of 100lbs. In a life that seemed to be spinning rapidly more and more out of control, I needed something that I could control, and the food I ate (or didn't) was that thing. So I didn't.
Now, my body remembers starving with a fear that runs deep in my bones. When I have to leave the house for long periods of time I'm constantly thinking and worrying about what I will eat and when, I pack far too much food for a day, and I worry. Working a five hour shift? Panic and gorge before hand.
The slightest pang of hunger was cause for incredible stress to my mind and my body as a result I'm sure.
Overcoming this fear is a long and slow process, but the beginnings of it are in place now. I still eat before a shift, but a lighter meal of healthy food instead of a burger and fries from the food court (which is oh so conveniently located right in front of the store I work at).
