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Old 12-03-2009, 09:27 AM   #1
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Recovery Biographies

Recovery Biographies thread.

When you have an Eating Disorder, It's can seem like your locked inside a cold dark place, and that there is no way out. That the obsessive thought controll you, and that there is no way to fight them. Well, with this thread, the aim is to provide inspiration to those thinking about recovery, and that it is possible. I will state here and now that to be a member of this board you don't have to be in recovery, and this thread is in no way trying to force people into something they arn't ready for; it's simply to show people that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and Eating Disorders can be beaten.

These Biographies will be recovery based, focusing on the process of recovery and the help recieved, as often a reason for not recovering is a fear of the uknown. Obviously recovery will be different for each individual person, but these biographies can give you a rough idea of what ti might be like, and what ways may work best for you.

This thread will be locked, so that all the biographies (posted as replies either by myself or another Moderator) can all be kept together. However, that doesn't mean you can't support and congratulate the members who's stories are posted; why not drop them a PM? It could start a friendship, and what better way is there to start a friendship than as on something so postive?

The Mods understand that writing a biography may be a daunting task, so we have come up with soem questions to help you get thinking/writing. You can use all these questions, some of them, or none of them. Its entirley up to you. The questions are:

The following content has been hidden - Reason : Questions

1. How old were you and what sorts of factors were important in your reaching the decision to choose to recover from your ED? What sorts of things helped and hindered you in coming to this decision?

2. a) For those under the age of 18 years, what sort of influence (if any) did your parents, family, and friends have on your decision to recover?

....b) For those 18 years and over, what sort of influence (if any) did your partner/friends/siblings/parents have on your decision to recover?

3. What reasons did you have for deciding to recover?

4. For those who received professional help for their ED leading up to their eventual recovery ...

....a) What sort of professional help did you receive?

....b) Did you receive this professional help voluntarily?

....c) How did you locate this help?

....d) What were some of the positive and negative aspects of this professional help?

....e) Had you received professional help for your ED previously? What was different about yourself or about the type of professional help you received, leading up to your recovery?

....f) How important / significant was this professional help in your eventual recovery from your ED?


5. For those who did NOT receive professional help leading up to their recovery from their ED -

....a) What prevented / discouraged you seeking professional help?

....b) Do you think recovery would have been easier with it?

....c) Describe any non-professional support that you received?

6. What did you find most difficult about recovery?

7. What surprised you (in a good way) about recovery?

8. How is your life different now that you are in recovery, in terms of -

....a) thoughts/feelings about yourself

....b) thoughts/feelings about your body/appearance/weight

....c) thoughts/feelings about food and exercise

....d) day to day activities

....e) relationships with family and friends<!-- / message -->


We are very greatful to everyone who decided to share there story of recovery with us, and understand it can't be easy. If you would like your biography to be posted on this thread to help inspire others, please PM it to either myself [Purple_Rain] or -Kel- , who has kindly agreed to help me with running this project.


Last edited by random.swirls : 12-04-2009 at 09:36 PM. Reason: Egg




"I would be almighty in my own world of art, even if I had to paint my pictures with my wet tongue on the dusty floor of my cell." -Picasso
"No, painting is not done to decorate apartments. It is an instrument of war." - Picasso

'I have scars becuase I have a past; but they, like my past, do not define my future'


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Old 03-04-2009, 12:14 PM   #2
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Katy/Miss Pixie 's biography.

I was 17 when I decided it was time to recover, I had lost everything all my friends, my health was so bad I could barely function. I can remember the exact moment when I realised I had to change. That morning I was told that my chances of being capable of having children were disappearing fast. I was in an art lesson trying to build a sculpture and I ended up going home because I couldn't even stand and move my arms around because I just didn't have the energy. I felt awful and I had known for a long time it was down to me to change things.

I had a worker from CAMHS since I had been in adolescent unit when I was 16. I had a horrible experience in the same unit I saw so many of my friends recover in but for me it wasn't what I needed because of the way I treated in there and because I wasn't ready to recover after I was discharged I quickly dropped the weight. I was referred to CAMHS after many admissions to a&e where I met my worker who at the time I hated but looking back I know she was really trying to what was best for me.

I agreed with her if I stuck to a meal plan and let her monitor my weight then we wouldn't talk about food at all because having other people interfering in what seemed like my only bit of control over my life was too difficult. I stuck rigorously to my meal plan and controlled every little aspect of it so I felt I still had control of what was going into my body but I was slowly gaining weight. The first fourth months were the hardest I had trouble swallowing food because it triggered flashbacks and I hated seeing my body changing and not being able to control what it looked like. I would have days where I just wanted to give up but I just kept telling myself it was my body and I could control it and make myself healthy again.

Only a few weeks in I noticed a huge difference in the amount of energy I had, it didn't last long unless I stuck to the meal plan and ate regularly but when I did I felt amazing for it. It took a long time and a lot of hard work and frustration and for months after I reached a healthy weight I still hated my body. But then I started to notice little things I quite liked, I wrote down a list of things I liked and kept it with me so every time I thought about purging or restricting I could remember why I was doing this.

Now I am fully recovered, and I can honestly say my body isn't half bad! For a start I have boobs!! I can fill my tops and look good in them. I have very long legs and they look much nicer without the bones. I have naturally wide hips which is partially because I have a developmental disorder of the hips. I know I can't change that but I can find nice clothes that really flatter my shape. Like any normal person I have things about myself I don't like but no one is perfect! I don't want to look like a clone. I am me, individual, unique!

More importantly I enjoy food, I really did miss out in all that time I was restricting. There are so many things I enjoy and yeah I know it's not healthy to eat some things all the time even though I would quite like to!
I can do whatever I want without being immediately exhausted, I can go shopping and not have to come home after being in one shop! I still struggle with the fact I can't exercise any more because when it wasn't a chore that had to be done I did enjoy it but because of my problems with my legs it isn't possible to do a lot of exercise but I can accept that now and not put myself through agonising pain just to do exercises that were terrible for my health in more ways than one. My hair has all grown back and looks much healthier, no more bald patches!

Recovering was one of the best things I ever did and I wish I had got help before it ever got as far as it did because I think it would have been much easier to recover had I done.


Last edited by [Purple_Rain] : 03-04-2009 at 12:20 PM.




"I would be almighty in my own world of art, even if I had to paint my pictures with my wet tongue on the dusty floor of my cell." -Picasso
"No, painting is not done to decorate apartments. It is an instrument of war." - Picasso

'I have scars becuase I have a past; but they, like my past, do not define my future'


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Old 06-04-2009, 09:18 AM   #3
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Sarah/Thumbelina's Biography.
I didn’t go about recovery in a traditional way, but then again who does? As far as most of the people in my life are concerned I recovered when I was 18 in truth it is only recently that I truly consider myself recovered at the age of 21.

My parents were informed of my eating disorder about a month or so into OP treatment. My eating disorder was there to stop them hurting and to make me feel the suffering I felt like I deserved. When they found out the pleasing nature in me took a u-turn and instead of starving and purging I ate normally. I needed to feel pain and if I wasn’t allowed it through not eating I would get it by eating and hating every mouthful. So I gained the weight got discharged through away an opportunity of a lifetime and moved to university where I started my long recovery process.

The first few weeks were hard but then I started seeing a housemate, I confided in him about my eating disorder and he asked me to eat for him. This almost complete stranger asked me to eat and it had more of an effect than anyone else EVER has. It wasn’t because he loved me, it wasn’t because he didn’t want to watch me waste away, it was because he saw something in me that he wanted to get to know and that touched me more than I ever could imagine.

It was still a very long process, I had to be determined, I had to concentrate on the future not the present or the past for the first year just to keep my strength up to get through each week. By the second year I was more in control, I wasn’t recovering, I wasn’t relapsing (most of the time) I was in limbo between normal behaviour and less than normal and the moment things got on top of me I would be in eating disorder hell for a fortnight or so. During this time I started to tease through the past starting to put emotions in context with events. Now I am in my third year, surviving on my own as my boyfriend is away on placement. I have learnt to talk, to open up, and to share. In doing so I have opened up a whole range of feelings, emotions and experience which my eating disorder was shutting out.

I can’t remember ever making a conscious decision to recover I started off telling myself, it’s ok I’m only eating until ... then I can get back to the eating disorder and sometimes I did. With time I found contentment within myself and didn’t use the opportunities to go back. Looking back a lot of my recovery has been about slowly finding my feet in the world, although my eating disorder started late on in my teens the reasons behind it had been going on for much longer. I had to adjust to being a little girl, being a teenager, being a young woman, being a lover, being a daughter and a sister, being a friend and most importantly being me.

I can’t say that my attitude towards food is completely healthy but it is now within the spectrum of normal; I am still working on it and I think I will be for the rest of my time. Food and emotions are so intertwined but that’s ok. I don’t mind if I eat ice cream in the evenings when I’ve had a bad day, I don’t mind when I feel overwhelmed with stress that I pick at food, continuously grazing on food yet not able to sit down to a meal because I know it balances out, I know that whatever I do my weight will stay in the same range, my clothes will still fit me, my reflection will still be the same. My friends, boyfriend and family don’t love me for my figure in fact they’ve often said they’d kill me for it, they love me for everything I am since my eating disorder, for everything I am because of my eating disorder and the best thing about recovery is I can now appreciate and accept I am loved.



Although I am completely content with myself, I can’t say the same about my body ... I wish I could be a dress size bigger





"I would be almighty in my own world of art, even if I had to paint my pictures with my wet tongue on the dusty floor of my cell." -Picasso
"No, painting is not done to decorate apartments. It is an instrument of war." - Picasso

'I have scars becuase I have a past; but they, like my past, do not define my future'


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Old 06-04-2009, 09:24 AM   #4
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Elysium./Caz's biography vbmenu_register("postmenu_", true);


When you speak or listen to a person, you usually look at their eyes. Although I cannot physically see you right this minute, I’d like to think as if my words are my eyes. Just like, you are looking at me and I am to you. The meanings from my words pour truly from my soul, heart and out through these worded eyes. They are my hands also; hopefully, able enough to reach you in any way I can if you would welcome. I hope I can help take your hand so you walk with me when you are ready to embrace. You are never alone in this and I promise you with all my heart that this doesn’t have to be forever.

When the world just seems to be travelling over a million miles per hour, you would have thought that the wind from such speed would have been enough to lift me. In reality, with me being the follower of the world and its time, the back wind should have slid right underneath my feet and glide up right close to my back. It should have been my cushioned push to keep pressing forth; to keep up with time, the world and the rest of the people in it. But for a while, it felt although everything was failing me. It felt although that wind had forgotten me somehow, because I wasn’t keeping up, because I was continuing to fall and because there seemed to be nothing solid underneath my feet. I felt stuck, lost and earnestly watching everyone else around me keep up with time and live their life, whilst I seemed to be at a dead stand still with mine. The stance of me seemed to be facing in the complete opposite direction from which everyone else’s was facing. It was although I was trying to fight and push against everyone else’s wind as they flew right past me; like magnets when they repel against each other! This rebellion force from within me would push adjacent. When you have both south and south together they will repel, just as if you tried to force north and north together. South and north would bring them together; they would attract one another. But it didn’t make sense. I didn’t seem to be at the same place as them. They were north but I wasn’t; I was south but they were not. I was again the complete opposite. I couldn’t understand why my direction would push against theirs. But now it makes complete sense. They knew that it was nothing but trouble to travel behind, and despite how much I wanted to run away from the unknown that is forward, there are more good people than bad. And their wind force was only so strong for the good of me; because they hoped that theirs would travel underneath my feet and gently turn my direction to face the same as theirs. So I could travel with them, so I wouldn’t have to face the fear of the unknown alone. But to have them know that it was only trouble facing that direction made me feel comforted, and less alone. They had been through what I was facing, and knew I was heading into only more depths of darkness; the light travels with the world. It doesn’t bother the stay behind because there it is not needed. I am well aware of the fact that this probably makes no sense to some people right now, and think I am rambling on about nothing. But, you’ll begin to understand this soon enough. Perhaps you are familure with these feelings, perhaps you aren’t, but you must know that you don’t have to face anything alone and you can make it through.

I am not recovered. I am recovering, and to me, that itself is the biggest accomplishment I have reached WITHIN myself so far for the whole nineteen years of me breathing in air.

My world seemed to be pretty manic before I was even born. My world, to me, involves the people in it! The way I was conceived seemed to be the ‘jinx’ from my development in the womb and continuing through to the first few vital years of my life. Being enlightened to situations that happened from the moment I was born, makes me think that, it’s really not any surprise at all that I grew to be a baby that would be classified as “failing to thrive.” At the tender age of just half a year old, is where my failing to thrive began. On my 1st birthday, my mother left my father, and fought desperately with me to eat. At the age of 1 and a half years old, my mother met a man who would give both her and I all the love his capacity could hold, that we were so desperately in need of. I warmed to him, and slowly but surely, began to eat again; but only for him. With the constant visits back and forth from doctors to hospitals; with my life literally on the edge of a full stop, my mother and stepfather were told about the dangers of the development of my growth and the impacts it could potentially have on me. Including the risk of my brain growing to fast for my skull (this didn’t happen thankfully). I was recovered by the time I was 3 years old and began to enjoy living life. But the damaged cause effects on my body didn’t stop there. I barely remember anything from my school days. This could be partly to do with my body and brain repairing itself from the huge damage I had done to myself in younger years, and how close to death I became. It could also be due to incidents I was forced to have to deal with from the age of 11 to 14 that are always painful to remember.

At the age of 15, this is where I began to develop Anorexia Nervosa. I struggled alone with this for 3 years. I kept it ‘in the closet’ until my 18th birthday, where I blurted out to my mother about the struggles I was having towards food and my own weight. She couldn’t believe I was going through this again. The next day, she continued although I had said nothing at all. I reached out for the hand that I thought I could rely on to help me, and it was just blown away within less than 24 hours. I couldn’t understand why she didn’t want to help me. I was beginning to lose hope with everything. I felt so caged. I was so lost with how to get my life back on track, I didn’t know who I was anymore. I was hoping she would help me, but instead, she just left me to it. I think this is why I hindered receiving help, because I thought, “Well, if she doesn’t care, and obviously thinks that there is nothing to worry about then perhaps there is nothing for me to worry about either”. I progressingly began to fall deeper and deeper into what I only knew to well. I was just left to struggle with this alone once again and I didn’t know how I could help myself; afraid that if I reached out again, I would just get the sight of other peoples backs like I had already witnessed.

A few months before my 19th birthday, I found myself at my worst. Something within me had gone so terribly wrong. My parents had gone away on holiday, and I denied myself food for the whole time. I could feel my body becoming weaker and weaker, my energy levels and concentration was seriously lacking of the norm (even though my body weight was already below what it should have been maintaining). Depression was getting the worst of me and I found myself lining tablets out on my desk with vodka at hand. I was just so exhausted of having to struggle through days that I felt so lost in all the time. I was so fed up of everything.

But then, out of nowhere, strange feelings came flooding from within me that I wasn’t used to feeling at all. Something seriously started to yell from inside me, begging me to not give in, to not give up; to just keep trying and to get myself out of this deep dark place that I seemed to be lost in. I text my friend and she seriously did save my life. Sobbing down the phone to her, I explained everything, and although I scared her with what I said and what Id done, she listened to me. After hearing what I had said to her, she explained kindly that I needed to get some sort of professional help and offered to come to the doctors with me. The sound of this was so unbelievably petrifying, but I knew deep down I had to do something. I guess I finally had realised that enough was enough and that I was becoming so deep with all of this again, with my weight just continuing to fall south alongside everything else. So I agreed to go cautiously but still willingly with her right by my side. I was shaking with fear for as much as I could muster to feel. Although it was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do in my life, I am so grateful that I found it within myself to do the right thing by me for once. I remember thinking that this could be the very beginning of my life, and now I had got a tiny bit forward, I was not going to let go.

I asked to see the nurse that I was comfortable with and handed a letter to her, explaining everything and everything, because I knew my words would have stumbled and failed to deliver my thoughts. I was there for 3 hours that morning. Seeing the nurse, a councillor then my doctor. My doctor arranged for the crisis team to come around urgently that same morning because of the tablets I had already taken before I stopped myself finishing off. Everything is a haze after this; partly because it was such a daunting experience and partly because Anorexia Nervosa has caused me memory loss. Shortly after the crisis team visited me, I was arranged a CPN; who I still see and monitors my weight regularly. She’s also helped me to find a therapist that I also see regularly at the mental health clinic. And although I struggle with recovery at times, I know that reaching out was one of the best things I could ever have done for myself.

Leading myself into the unknown was scary and it still is at times, but the people I have around me are living in that forward unknown. I know they wouldn’t help me to reach a place in this world that is not worthwhile. If it weren’t worthwhile, they wouldn’t stay there and want to bring me through to experience such great lengths of things. I have accepted and embraced the fact that I needed to let my sails blow freely and trust their wind push to guide me. Just as I was explaining before! I’ve managed to find those good people to hold my hand into the unknown. I really cannot explain my feelings of gratitude. Words really do fail me to enlighten. The friend that helped me out that dreadful time; she was my first real wind push and still holds my hand. She was my foundation to make all of this happen. All these wonderful people I have around me that are here to help me are that wind, gently cushioning that push from behind to keep me plodding forward even when I get scared, I know they are right behind me, so I have faith I can carry on.

I can recall a time where recovery used to seem so hopeless to me. Now I understand that it is not hopeless; it never was, because I have managed to get this far. Wonderful things come from it and it truly is breath taking when you can see something for how beautiful it is, without being blinded from the real beauty of it from the darkness that I used to live in. I know there is a greener side to all of this and I guess that’s what keeps me trying to reach out for it. So many people have recovered from this illness, and if they can do it, then why can’t I! If they have managed to find their way, then so can I! I am no different to them.

I have learnt so much in the year I have been in recovery already. To mention a few, I have learnt it’s okay to struggle, but I have also learnt that I do not have to struggle alone. I have learnt it’s okay to cry and I have also learnt that to control what goes inside of my body does not mean I am controlling things, just the same as if I can’t control something, it doesn’t mean I have to control my appetite or edit and control my weight to see lower numbers on the scales. I have learnt that not everyone is bad and I am also slowly beginning to hold trust in people again. And more importantly, I am beginning to believe in myself. Although I still have many rough edges, I have faith that they will smoothen out if I continue to work with recovery.

Yeah, I still struggle at times, but now, I’m actually able to open my eyes wider; to try and find things that I know will help allow myself to carry on. I have the support from my CPN and Therapist, and they are very good in knowing what it is to help me push forward. I refuse to give into something that is able to make me less than what I should be. I don’t want to miss of on seeing the things that make my eyes glow with joy, and I know myself well enough now to know that I will appreciate the things that make me happy so much more than the people that haven’t had to fight for it; the people that take it for granted. I will appreciate every tiny last little thing that makes me happy. I believe I’m on the correct path; I am on the path that will give me back my health. I am hopeful that I can make it through and I am hopeful that you can too.

Maybe your story is similar to mine, maybe it’s totally different, but I know one thing, I have been where you are, I have felt what it’s like to lose hope, to feel worthless, to feel useless, to feel although nothing else matters other than this. I just hope you can find it in your capacity to allow yourself to be something so much more. To be courageous and face the unknown, because I promise you, you are worth so much more than this. So much more!





"I would be almighty in my own world of art, even if I had to paint my pictures with my wet tongue on the dusty floor of my cell." -Picasso
"No, painting is not done to decorate apartments. It is an instrument of war." - Picasso

'I have scars becuase I have a past; but they, like my past, do not define my future'


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Old 05-01-2011, 03:00 PM   #5
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xsweetxeternityx/Abi's biography

I was 16 years old when I was diagnosed with Anorexia and Depression. The depression part of the diagnoses I agreed with- the anorexia, I refused to accept. It was a friend at school who realised I wasn’t eating enough and took me to tell the head of pastoral care. That same day school called in my mum and explain to her that they had concerns about my weight loss. I remember sitting in that office holding my mums hand sobbing my eyes out. I felt like I’d let her down so bad. But she was so supportive through the entire thing. She took me to the doctors who referred me to a psychiatrist who diagnosed me pretty quick. I’d had the eating disorder for a year when I was diagnosed and I was in a pretty bad place. Not far off from sitting my GCSEs, my life was just falling apart around me. I was losing almost all of my friends who just couldn’t deal with my obsessive dieting and who just didn’t understand it. To be totally honest, I don’t remember everything about what life was like living with an eating disorder. Because my memory at the time was pretty poor as a result of the illnesses- I was unable to recall things that had happened the previous day. But the things that do stand out in my memory are as follows. I remember the pain every morning as I tried to get out of bed and my muscles just couldn’t take it. I remember the awful pain I endured every time I had to stand up and walk anywhere. I remember having to regularly hold onto furniture to stop myself falling over from dizziness. I remember the negative thoughts running through my mind 24 hours a day 7 days a week telling me I was useless and a failure. I remember the complete fear that gripped me every time I had to go anywhere or do anything because I didn’t know if I would be expected to eat. The Anorexia completely took over my life. I lived like this until I was 17. By this time, I was about to drop out of school, I was terrified of leaving the house and things were not looking like they were going to get better anytime soon. I had hit rock bottom.
I’m not sure what the turning point was exactly. I had tried to get better a few times before, but these attempts only lasted a couple of days at a time. The reason all previous attempts had failed was because I hadn’t been trying to get better for myself- I’d been doing it for my family, my close friends and my boyfriend. But doing it for them wasn’t enough. I needed to want to get better, and want that for myself and only myself. Wanting to get better is extremely hard, because you have to actually believe that your life is worth something to want to make it better. And I didn’t believe my life was worth anything for a long time. But one day, for some reason, I stopped blaming myself for being ill. I realised that actually it wasn’t my fault that I was anorexic. It wasn’t my fault that this had happened to me. It hadn’t happened because I was a bad person and needed punishing, it was just one of those unfortunate things. My councillor helped me a lot with realising that. And then I realised something really important. I wasn’t my fault that I had the illness, but it was fully in my power to get rid of it. And I was so sick and tired of having my whole life controlled by anorexia that I knew it was time to say goodbye to it. I wasn’t prepared to die to be thin. My eating disorder was all about having control, but I realised that it was the anorexia that was controlling me. For a few months in the autumn of 2009 I began putting on weight and trying to eat more. It was difficult, I’ll admit, but I tried so hard. It was Christmas time 2009, the lead up to the new year when I made a promise to myself. I wrote down all the bad things that had happened to be in 2009 and swore that next year would be better. I also wrote down all the good things that happened to me in 2009. For example, I got 5 A*s, 6 As and a B in my GCSEs despite battling with anorexia at the same time. I had fallen in love for the first time with my wonderful boyfriend. I had actually had some good times that summer thanks to him. I looked at these lists and had more bad things than good things. I decided that at the end of 2010 I wanted to have more good things than bad things. 2010 was going to be my year. And it was.
I drew myself up an eating plan, with rewards for myself if I stuck to it e.g. a DVD I wanted or a new CD. It was a plan based on getting myself gradually used to eating three meals a day. I had a whole new attitude, based on the idea that “everything will be ok.“ And I actually stuck to my plan. Every month I stuck to all my goals to the point that by March my psychiatrist was happy to discharge me and pronounce me ‘cured‘. Although I knew I still had a way to go, just having that label off my head made me feel so free and encouraged me to keep getting better. As I began eating more, everything else took care of itself. I didn’t feel the need to self harm any more and just stopped. Eating more didn’t actually get me down, it actually made me feel better most of the time. Because eating=good. It meant I was getting better. There would still be those times when I got really down and overwhelmed. But I had to fight through those times and just keep going. And in those tough times I turned to my boyfriend and a couple of close friends for help to get me through. After a couple more months I didn’t need my eating plan anymore. I was at the point where I could eat when I was hungry and stop when I was full. I began developing a shape again and became a healthy, stable weight which I maintain still. And gradually, with the help of my boyfriend, I grew to begin to accept my new shape. I know I look so much better than I did. Because I have life in my face and I’m not skin and bones anymore.
Over the last three or four months I have hardly had a single negative thought about food or weight. I look in the mirror now and actually like what I see. I love the shape I am, and I love the way clothes fit me. I have never been so happy. I’ve had depression and self harm problems since I was 13 so I’d forgotten what it felt like to be happy. When I was stuck in my cycle of anorexia and depression I was convinced I’d never feel happiness again in my life. I thought I’d never get better. But now, I truly am feeling great.
The hardest part about recovering was taking the first few steps into deciding that I wanted to get better. But once I took those steps things just got easier and easier. Now, I love going out to eat. I love cooking and enjoying new foods. I spent this summer in Vietnam and had so much fun trying out all the food over there- it was all so delicious! I have always been a competitive swimmer and during my anorexia swimming stopped being a hobby and became an obsession. I am now able to enjoy it again, without the physical pain and without the need to never miss a session. I am now 18 and have a place at university for next year to study psychology and am predicted high grades in my A-levels. It is my dream to one day be in a position to help others who are lost like I was. I also have a new set of friends who I get on with great. My relationships with my family are so much better than they were before. I will admit that my boyfriend helped me through a lot of this. We’ve been together for a year and a half now and I am so grateful for everything he’s done for me. But I know that actually I would have been able to do it without him. Because at the end of the day the recovery was about me getting a better life for myself. And I have achieved that. I have the life that I wanted.
Life is life, and things will get tough from time to time. But I have such a positive attitude now. And I really believe that you have to go through the darker times. Because that way, you can truly appreciate the good times. Eating disorders make the world seem like it will be perpetually dark. But I’m telling you now that you will see the sun again. How many months or years of your life have you lost to an eating disorder? Maybe now is the time to take those first steps, so that you don’t lose anymore of your life to the illness. Recovery seems like such a long and hard road, but it is the most worthwhile journey you will ever take. Trust me on that.





"I would be almighty in my own world of art, even if I had to paint my pictures with my wet tongue on the dusty floor of my cell." -Picasso
"No, painting is not done to decorate apartments. It is an instrument of war." - Picasso

'I have scars becuase I have a past; but they, like my past, do not define my future'


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