So as I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I struggle with binge eating, depression, and anxiety. Some days it can be SO mentally draining. A lot of my closer friends don’t share the same struggles that I do, or none at all. Thinking about this during some of my lows make me wonder, “why me?”
Writing this is very freeing to me. For as long as I can remember I’ve had an issue with food. I’ve associated food with good feelings, and to have that make sense, every time after a good soccer game, we would go get ice cream. Situations like that began my unhealthy relationship with food.
So like many teenage girls, I argue with my parents, but a lot more with my dad and about way more sensitive topics. My dad is a great father , he provides me with food, clothes, and a place to live along with other non essentials. All of that stuff is great, but what I’m looking for from him is something he could never buy me: love.