I studied abroad my junior year and my host mother was an undiagnosed anorexic. She was ridiculously obsessed with food, and refused to buy anything when her husband wasn't around... Eventually he came home from a work trip and opened the fridge and said "There's nothing in here but condiments!" Which was exactly true. She would live off only those gross stir-in packets of soup when she could.
When I got to Australia I was a healthy, semi-active teenage girl at a very healthy weight for my height (tall), but the stress from living in a bad host family situation caused me to eat compulsively, and I began gaining weight. My host mother began to comment. I was so stuck in my resolve, however, (fueled by my hatred for her) that her comments didn't actually affect me until I left, and realized how bad everything was: how badly I was eating, how badly she had treated me, how much weight I had gained. I made a conscious effort to eat healthier and exercise more, and I was doing pretty well.
When I came home, however, the obsession intensified. I think I was trying to cope with the stress of returning home after a year abroad, a year where friends had made memories I wasn't a part of, and a year where I was subjected to a whole lot of body-shaming, and it manifested itself physically. I was aiming for a thousand calories a day, but would usually only eat around 700, not eating during the school day so I could eat my calories when I came home and look like I was healthier than I was. I was in a fog. I don't remember much of that semester at all, and that's a really scary thing, to just lose a part of your life like that.
I will freely admit it could have been a lot worse, and believe me, it would have been, but I was lucky. I have great, supportive friends, who helped me unlearn my obsession with food. But there also just came a day when I realized that I would rather be able to function properly than be thin. And it was hard. It sucked. It still bothers me sometimes. But it's amazing all of the things you have time to think about when you're not constantly running numbers or hiding your habits. And things didn't become better right away. I gained some weight back, and lost it in a relapse, and recovered again. Now, I think I'm healthier than I've ever been: strong, fit, and active, and eating well. Eating enough.
Resolving my eating disorder was by far both the hardest and most rewarding thing I have ever done. It's worth every second of struggle, I promise