January 6, 2010
I look to my right and there is a sad boy with his dad. He is waiting to get dropped off for who knows how long. Another confused child strolls in. I could feel their pain and sadness, but I did not know those lonely and upset kids would change my life. I look again and to my left is a short brown haired lady.
“Taylor?” she calls.
“Yes?, I mutter.
“Follow me please, and your parents can come too,” she says softly. We sat down in a little office and she introduced herself “Hi my name is Elizabeth, and I will be your social worker”.
Social worker, I thought. This is ridiculous. I should not be here! I don’t want to go through treatment!

My feelings about treatment over the next three months eventually changed. I would walk through the halls and see little kids running around and laughing. If they could do this, why couldn’t I? I was determined to accept the treatment and use it to help people. It would be selfish not to.

The second month of treatment I agreed to get better. I was going to get through this and become a stronger person. I did just that. It was the hardest thing I have ever done, but the most rewarding. Why give up when you have so much going for you.
I was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa my sophomore year, and sent to Roger’s Memorial Hospital for treatment. The three months I spent there I accomplished more then I ever dreamt of: self confidence in who I am, a better understanding for my peers, appreciation for selfless beings, but mostly, determination to overcome anything put in front of me.

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