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In 2014, I developed a full on eating disorder. I would binge eat anything in sight, and then try to run 10 miles to burn it off. The cycle reached to an end when I developed running injuries. The binging continued but the running was out of the question. Simultaneously my brother was unemployed and our parents were pressuring the both of us to find a job. His anxiety got the best of him, and ultimately he committed suicide some months after the had finally found a job he actually liked. He had depression, and he was probably bipolar, but we will never certainly know because there is a stigma about mental health. He never went to get help. His death worsened my anxiety and brought a depression that has been eating away at me ever since. The slightest thing like a late payment on my bank account or my dog having fleas triggers me into a spiral of overthinking and deep crying for hours on end. I will go online and try to find answers for questions I make up in my mind that are twisted and out of proportion. I will scratch at my hands until they become open wounds. One night I had such a bad anxiety attack I just knew I'd throw myself at a train if I didn't get out of my room. That night I ran and ran until I thought my heart was going to burst. I'd like to say I'm getting better, but I really don't know. All I know is that there's seasons where I can handle a lot of stress and seasons where I want to drown in the pool in my gym.