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I've never doubted that recovering from an eating disorder is not easy and would require so much strength and determination.
When I heard that word, “Anorexia”, I remember feeling completely in denial of all the information that was being bombarded at me.
Please don’t give up. It will get better, I promise. It will get harder too, but it will also get better.
Complacency. A feeling of calm satisfaction with your own abilities or situation that prevents you from trying harder.
It's time we accepted our lives shouldn't be ruled by a number on a scale, or what clothing size we are but by what kind of person we are.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my family. Anorexia is the darkest and deepest hole and I wouldn’t be where I am today without their support.
Taking part in Trekfest and raising money for Beat has given me the healthy goal I required to help me follow the winding path of recovery.
It started in September 2013. I was 17 and after only returning back from volunteering in Kenya the month before, I needed answers. I had been making myself throw up since I was about 8/9 due to bullying at school.
I was 15 years old the first time I saw my GP for my eating disorder. One of my best friends took me to the GP as she was so concerned for me.
Three out of ten eating disorder sufferers do not receive a referral from their GP to a mental health service for treatment, despite medical guidance that stresses the need for immediate referral.
Two months into a new year and everyone’s new year’s resolutions are either in full swing or been forgotten after a week.
I never considered myself a typical anorexic, because it didn’t start in my teens. It wasn’t until I was 31 that I started restricting in order to cope with my divorce. I’d found out my husband was having an affair and he showed no remorse, no emotion.