A Candid Look at Adolescent Mental Health
Thin, and I, a memoir by Andrijka Keller, has been praised by Kirkus Reviews as “Funny, frank, and visceral; an unconventional consideration of bulimia.” Readers Favorite calls it “Eloquent and moving,” underscoring the memoir’s powerful blend of raw honesty and wry humor. In this book, Keller opens up about her teenage battle with Bulimia Nervosa, Major Depressive Disorder, and Social Anxiety Disorder—three conditions that collided when she was just 15 years old.
From the opening pages, Keller’s voice is both conversational and unfiltered. She tackles delicate topics—like self-image, medication, and therapy—without sugarcoating the realities that accompany mental illness. Yet, there’s a surprising lightness woven throughout her story, offering glimpses of levity and hope at moments readers might least expect it.
Inside the Walls of an Inpatient Facility
A central part of Keller’s journey unfolds within the confines of an inpatient treatment center, where she arrives at 16. The memoir chronicles her frustration with authority figures and a medical staff determined to help her, even when she resists them at every turn. While many accounts of inpatient programs focus solely on clinical details, Keller’s reflections highlight the human connections and daily routines that both tested her patience and, ultimately, guided her toward stability.
She also doesn’t shy away from discussing her experience with medication. Initially prescribed Prozac, Keller soon found herself juggling multiple prescriptions that promised to fix what was “broken.” Her account acknowledges the benefits of medication but also delves into the side effects and emotional toll that come with it. Throughout these struggles, what emerges is a teenager wrestling with her own identity, even as she tries to conquer self-destructive habits.
About the Author: Andrijka Keller
Before writing Thin, and I, Keller discovered her passion for storytelling at a young age. In fifth grade, she won her local library’s literary contest, a moment that marked the beginning of a lifelong love affair with words. Today, she calls Philadelphia home, where she’s pursuing a Master’s degree in Counseling. Her academic path mirrors her desire to advocate for mental health—an issue she understands on a deeply personal level.
Keller’s writing style is casual and approachable, which makes even the most intense chapters of her memoir feel more like a heartfelt conversation than a clinical report. Beyond her devotion to writing, she’s a fan of black coffee, yoga, and spending time with her cat, whom she credits for some of her most engaging dialogue (albeit one-sided). While her first published work is a memoir, she has hinted at future projects, including a potential novel that would allow her to explore fiction.
Embracing Life Beyond the Disorder
What sets Thin, and I apart is its depiction of recovery as a messy, unpredictable process rather than a straight, clear-cut path. The narrative captures Keller’s stubborn refusal to follow orders in therapy sessions, her episodes of relapse, and her occasional sparks of motivation—all culminating in a gradual shift from external pressure to internal resolve. By highlighting these fluctuations, Keller shows readers that true healing often comes in stops and starts.
Despite the seriousness of its subject matter, the memoir finds room for humor—at times edgy, at other times surprisingly warm. Keller’s wit keeps the book from feeling weighed down by despair, reminding readers that even amid pain, there can be room for lighthearted perspectives. This delicate balance ultimately helps Thin, and I resonate with a wide audience, including those who have experienced mental health challenges firsthand and those simply seeking to understand them better.
For anyone curious to learn more or eager to support a writer who openly tackles difficult topics, Thin, and I is available on Amazon. In sharing her story, Keller sheds light on the harsher realities of bulimia, depression, and anxiety while offering hope that recovery—however imperfect—remains possible.
Ultimately, Thin, and I stands as a testament to resilience. Keller doesn’t pretend her journey ended the day she left inpatient treatment; rather, she acknowledges that self-acceptance is a lifelong endeavor. Her account encourages readers to look beyond preconceived notions of what healing should look like. By embracing both the highs and lows, Thin, and I offers insight into the human capacity for growth in the midst of chaos—proving that even in the darkest corners, there’s always the potential for a brighter tomorrow.
We had the privilege of interviewing Andrijka Keller. Here are excerpts from the interview.
Hi Andrijka, It’s great to have you with us today! Please share about yourself with our readers.
Hi, I’m a writer and the author of Thin, and I; a memoir that chronicles my experiences with an eating disorder, treatment, and recovery. Beyond writing, I advocate for mental health awareness, particularly around eating disorders and the realities of recovery.
Please tell us about your book.
Thin, and I is a raw, unfiltered account of my teenage years spent battling an eating disorder. It captures my time in inpatient treatment, the friendships I made, the power struggles with my medical team, and the deeply personal process of reclaiming my life. The book doesn’t sugarcoat anything—it’s honest, darkly humorous at times, and reflects the reality of what it’s like to be young and navigating recovery.
Please share your journey with our readers.
My struggle with an eating disorder started in my early teens, and for years, I lived in secrecy. At 16, I was admitted to an inpatient facility, where I was forced to confront my disorder head-on. Recovery wasn’t linear—there were relapses, defiance, and moments when I wanted to give up entirely. But somewhere along the way, I realized I wanted to get better, not for anyone else, but for myself. My journey didn’t end after treatment—it’s something I continue to navigate every day. Writing Thin was a way to process everything I went through, and I hope it helps others feel seen and understood.
What are the strategies that helped you become successful in your journey?
Honesty with myself. I had to acknowledge that I wasn’t okay before I could even think about getting better. Finding the right people. Whether it was friends in treatment, my support system outside of it, or therapists who actually listened, surrounding myself with people who understood was crucial. Letting go of perfection. Recovery isn’t about being perfect—it’s about making progress, even when it’s messy. Writing. Putting my experiences into words helped me process emotions I didn’t know how to verbalize at the time. Focusing on small victories. Sometimes, success was just eating a meal without guilt or going a day without symptoms. Those moments built up over time.
Any message for our readers?
Recovery is possible, but it has to be something you choose for yourself. No one can force you into it. It’s not easy, and it won’t always be pretty, but life on the other side is worth it. Also, if you’re struggling, please reach out to someone. You’re not alone.
Thank you so much, Andrijka, for giving us your precious time! We wish you all the best for your journey ahead!
