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Recovery. It evokes so many different emotions for different people. It may frighten you, it may frustrate you, it may encourage you. For me, recovery is all that and more.
At the age of eighteen I had my place to study Music in September…however, I was also in the depths of anorexia.
Overcoming adversity is one the biggest things that I struggled with three years ago when I first developed bulimia nervosa. For so long I refused to accept it to myself and lived in denial.
Opening up was never easy for me but before the words left my mouth the assessor slammed me down. “Your BMI is high and the ED services won’t see you because of your weight.”
Bulimia has been the devil on my shoulder for the best part of 25 years. This year is the first time I’ve stood up to the devil and said enough is enough.
I didn’t ever think that I would get to this point. To be honest I didn’t think that I had a ‘point’ to get to as I didn’t think that anything was wrong… But here I am, after a long old journey, feeling proud that I BEAT anorexia.
It can be hard to enjoy a holiday when there are so many things around that make it feel chaotic. For someone like me, who copes with anxiety by needing structure and routine, the spontaneity and fun of a holiday season is enormously difficult to navigate.
For many years I accessed online support for bulimia and was repeatedly told ‘recovery is always possible’. This felt really hollow to me. People kept telling me it was possible but not how it was possible.
For someone like me, with such a long history of anorexia nervosa behind me, exercising is a tricky affair and, unlike people who never experienced that, I can never lower the guard.
2018 is going to be an amazing year. That’s what I thought back in January. I’d not long landed my dream job, I’d moved back to London and I had a list of destinations to which I intended to travel. I also had an official diagnosis of anorexia nervosa to my name
I guess my eating disorder began pretty generically. I had booked a girls’ holiday and didn’t want to feel uncomfortable in a bikini, so about six weeks before I was due to embark on a fun-filled week in the sun, the ‘holiday diet’ began.
Five years ago, I left my studies at university, gripped by depression and anorexia. I was living a life of darkness, shame, misery, hopelessness, helplessness and grief over a long-term relationship that I couldn’t admit to myself was falling apart.