Lost For So Long

By Amanda Genthe

My reason for sharing my story publicly after so many years is because of a girl from my hometown who shared her story with me about going through an ectopic pregnancy–something I knew nothing about but would also later experience. Ectopic pregnancies can be deadly without outside help and I would have NEVER thought mine was ectopic if I hadn’t read her story. Her vulnerability and openness may have saved my life. Therefore, I am sharing my story in hopes of shining light onto someone who might currently feel there is none at the end of their tunnel.

When I was a pre-teen I knew something was off mentally. I entered high school and engaged in a number of unhealthy coping outlets – drugs, alcohol, sex, restrictive eating, over exercising, and over working myself. I was a ‘functioning’ addict; I never let my abusive habits show. On the outside I portrayed a confident, successful, over joyous, outgoing person. I was someone who glowed everywhere I went. I was ‘happy’ but inside I was screaming for help.

Bringing you to my senior year of college. I was working in Atlantic City at a job that let me… no, almost encouraged me to indulge in my unhealthy outlets. I had never felt more alive but I was slowly killing myself. I received a DUI over the holidays of that year and completely spiraled. I cried every day, multiple times a day and I didn’t know why. I was so underweight that my body constantly ached. I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. So, I decided to see a school therapist, which was completely out of my wheelhouse. I did not know how to talk about my feelings without feeling embarrassed. My therapist and I put labels on what I was going through and that actually made me feel better; I felt validated. I vowed to myself that I would admit to an inpatient treatment center if I did not gain the weight I needed to by graduation.

Shortly after graduation I entered a treatment center in Philadelphia for eating disorders. I went in for dual treatment including addiction. My goal was to be there for a month and only a month; I truly wanted to get better, physically and mentally. I had intensive therapies every day including individual therapy, group therapy, AA meetings, nutritionist visits and seeing a psychiatrist. In 30 days, I got back to a healthy weight and was feeling mentally stronger. I left having an outpatient team in place for me to acclimate to the real world again – the hardest part of it all, believe it or not.

I continued seeing a therapist for the next 8 years. It grew from weekly to bi-weekly, and eventually turned into scheduling meetings as needed. Finding a compatible therapist is key. Being open and completely honest with myself and my therapist is what has gotten me to a healthy mindset. Does this mean I am completely healed and that I don’t have urges? No, but I now have the ‘tools’ and support I need to get through it. I had to do the work to get the results. I understood that I was broken inside and needed a professional’s help to heal. It was not an easy thing to accept but the alternative was a very, very dark future … if a future existed at all. My life would not be the same without my therapists and I am grateful everyday.