Personal Narrative Essay: The Worst Year Of My Life

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It all started with a picture and a name. It sounds weird I know. How can the worst year of my life start with such harmless things? But that’s the thing, they weren’t harmless. They ruined my life. Well, I guess it wasn’t the picture or the name that caused it. It was my naïve 6th grade self. For What I did at the time to make since, I have to go back to when I first received the picture.
I was lying in my bed, staring at the ceiling. Normal Tuesday night activity for me. I was thinking about anything and everything to keep my mind off the fact that my best and only friend was growing distant.
We barely talked anymore. We had gone from talking every chance we got to barely saying 3 sentences to each other. We still spent all of our school
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It was a long hallway with rooms branching from either side. I looked into one of these rooms and saw at least 13 other girls and 1 boy. They were all like me. Sick. At the end of the hallway there was the cafeteria, or as the other girls called it “the torture chamber.” After I got checked in they finally told me why I was throwing up. The doctors that ran the clinic said they had seen it before. I did not eat enough for my body to function properly. So, the body did not waste the energy digesting food. It was my body’s way of giving up. Just like I had. They said I had anorexia. It all made sense. So, I let anorexic replace fat …show more content…
Each day I felt a little more alive, a little warmer. Some days were harder than others. But I met some amazing people that helped me get through it. Like Ryan and Ashlynn. They both are anorexic like me but they were a year younger. On the hard days Ryan made you laugh. And Ashlynn, she gave amazing advice. Us three grew close. We weren’t just friends we were family.
One of my last days there a 6-year-old girl came in. A six-year-old with an eating disorder. It made me hate the world for moment, but I realized that she was here to get better. And she would. She didn’t speak English so she had a translator. She didn’t talk anyways so it didn’t matter. The first and only time she talked was on my last day in therapy. We were talking about getting out and about life and about when we gave up. She said something that would change my life.
“You just have to try.”
I realized she was right when I was walking out those doors. Life sucks sometimes. I will hate myself. I will hate someone else. Sometimes, I will hate the whole world. It’s inevitable There are times where I will want to give up. Times when I can’t look at yourself in the mirror. In those moments, I just have to

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