Tag: #writing #recovery #anorexia nervosa

I am surrounded by 10 family members inside the National Library of Australia, Canberra. We are in a private reading room to visit my diary ‘family’, the early years of which are spread before us on a long table. Emotions bubble within—I feel exposed, unclothed, with my mind, heart, and...

Nobody likes being told, “You’re a loser.” The word “loser” immediately conjures up feelings of inadequacy, failure, and shame. The only place I can think of where “a loser” is considered noble and revered is in diet culture and the weight loss industry, where “loss” is even in the name....

Anorexia very nearly stole my life. After 15 years in what can only be described as a living hell, I was told I had only a few weeks to live; my dear body couldn’t hold on any longer. I could feel myself slipping away; after more than a decade of...

“Why does eating disorder recovery have so many curve balls?” A middle-aged woman asked this today. An eating disorder trigger was tempting her, and she was bravely reaching out for support. The holiday season and long weekends, which most people love, are difficult for her. With members of her usual...

Living a part-life with an eating disorder (ED) is like spending half your life in prison – without committing a crime. The picture that accompanies this story was taken the day my daughter celebrated her 21st birthday. I was 46 years old and an inpatient at a private mental health...

Until a few months ago, my diaries and I had been inseparable for more than 60 years. We had stuck together despite moving house more than 24 times in my search for peace within. Never a day apart. The diaries were my one constant from age 12. They were my...

I have suffered from an eating disorder (ED) for 18 years, and I don’t know how to break free … I would like you to share strategies for those times when my ED is the only thing I can hear.  – M. I want to reach through the email box,...

Our journey in the terrifying world of anorexia nervosa continues. We have roller-coasted over the past few months, and my daughter, Summer*, has turned 11. We have made some giant steps forward and a few small ones backward. The biggest one backward is being hospitalised again. Summer had been making...

So, I quit my job again at the end of January. The healthcare company I worked for was one of those doctor-owned ventures not uncommon in Seoul, South Korea, where medical doctors generally belong to the highest income groups and are probably the most exclusive interest group. In a misogynistic...

I’ve broken yet again. What hope have I got? I wonder, but I must have hope. Must not I, for when I think there is none, I want to die because one cannot live without hope. (Diary excerpt, 1991) I’m 40 years old. The next day I regress further.  I’m...