When I was younger, I had an idealised view of university. I created montages in my head of joining societies, making life-long friends and enthusiastically walking to lectures and seminars. In 2016 however, my outlook was different. Throughout my adolescence, I had struggled with anorexia and after a four-year battle, I was now able to become a Psychology student. Yet instead of feeling optimistic, I was filled with an intense fear.
In 2013, during my first year of university, my grandad passed away. Although he‘d led an excellent life, he was the hub of the family and his death left a big void. My response, as is a lot of people’s response to grief, was to keep busy and do things that made me feel like I had a sense of control. I found myself balancing 3 part time jobs on top of university. This need for regained control spilled over into my daily life in the form of my diet. I started to become addicted to the control that I had over what I ate and the weight began to drop off.
Ah depression and anxiety, my two controversial friends that have placed me in a non-consensual three-way relationship which is often very difficult to deal with. I can wake up some days and feel like I’m ready to take on anything. But on one side of the bed, I’ll have my anxiety badgering me about the million and one things that will go wrong today.