She's back

Maybe she isn't the same as before but ana is back, I have failed and let her back in, what started out as a gentle whisper in my ear has now become an almost impossible to ignore voice telling me I am not good enough and the worst thing is I am starting to believe her,

The fear of not being enough is overwhelming, I have attempted to prove her wrong and every time I have succeeded only in making things worse, not just for me but those I love most too. I am scared, scared that I am not strong enough, scared that she will worm her way back into my life, scared that she is still there, scared about what will become of me. I am 29 years old for goodness sake and yet here I am sitting at a laptop with tears pouring down my face, emotionally exhausted from trying to hold it together.

I chase perfection in myself and when I don't achieve it I either exercise or stop eating. My sense of worth is so wrapped up in how 'perfect' I am (or not as the case may be) that I am destined to never succeed. I push myself to breaking point in every aspect of my life - I want to be the perfect friend, partner, daughter, sister, granddaughter, niece, auntie the list is endless and exhausting. To me failure is not an option, yet I seem to be messing up at every turn and all that does is prove that 'she' is correct.

I so desperately don't want her to be a part of my life, I honestly don't want to go back to the place I was, yet at the same time I honestly don't know how to stop myself being led down the all familiar path.

Fighting is exhausting, chasing perfection is exhausting.

Right now the only positive I can see is that I am aware of how I am feeling, I am determined to succeed in this battle, I have done it once so there is no reason why I can't do it again.

Brain dump

This blog has become something of a diary to me, it is a place where I don't feel alone, to vent, to be unapologetically me. It is my own little space where I can get my thoughts out without having to descramble them or worry what anyone else might think. I have celebrated and cried over the things I have shared on this little blog. Tonight I am overwhelmed, my body is falling to pieces around me, my emotions are all over the place and worse of all ana is getting ever stronger.

Since December I have had one UTI after another annoyingly I get no symptoms so they don't show up until the GP does a urine test, I have had an awful lot of antibiotics but still they come back. I am now on antibiotics (again) to try and kill off yet another infection. I really am at the end of my tether now, I can't deal with being so run down and my body doesn't appear to be dealing with antibiotics very well. Oh fun fact - I now bruise like a peach too.

On top of the constant UTI's I have also found I'm either on the verge of tears or actually crying far too often just recently, I am an emotional person anyway (I cry when Baloo pretends to be dead in the Jungle Book!) but it is getting ridiculous now. I know I am under an incredible amount of pressure right now but there must be someway of keeping my emotions in check surely?

Where to start with ana? I'm not sure if she ever really vanished I think she was always there lurking in my brain ready for me to feel vunerable so she could strike. I know just how destructive she is yet I find myself seeking comfort in her words. I hope that being so aware means I am not heading back down the path I have already walked, that acknowledging her is a good thing. I feel stuck between a rock and a hard place I have fought so bloody hard to get to where I am today and yet, perversely, I am reluctant to let her go. No wonder my head is such a tangled mess right now.....

What my ED taught me

My body is incredible. Every single day I denied it food and forced it to work out yet every single day it kept me alive. My heart made sure that my blood was flowing, my lungs took in oxygen, my body made sure that I woke up every morning. At my lowest point my body never ever gave up on me, no matter how many times I gave up on it. That is pretty damn incredible in my opinion.

Thanks to my eating disorder I have met some incredible people, people who I now consider to be my friends. Friends who have always supported me, asked the right questions at the right time, understood exactly what I was going through. Whilst I never ever want to fall back into the darkest times of my ed I am grateful for the incredible people it brought into my life.

I am stronger than I ever realised. Recovery is hard - really hard, but I have never given up on myself. I make the decision to eat every day, no matter how much 'she' might be screaming at me not to. I fight a battle with myself and every day I try my best to pick the right side, I never thought I would be able to ignore her but look at me now!

There are probably a ton of other things but my brain has decided to switch off - helpful (!) so I will be updating this post regularly.

Random summer picture because I am dreaming of sunshine right now!

Dying to live

Before I continue with this blog post I want you to be well aware that it may be triggering. If you are feeling vulnerable then I urge you to not carry on reading.

The past few weeks have been really hard on me and as a result I've found myself relapsing quite badly. Whilst I don't currently want to share the circumstances that have led to my current state I know that my mental well being has deteriorated because of the situation I found myself in. For me when things start spiralling out of control i find myself restricting in order to feel on top of one area of my life.

I am aware that relapsing is unfortunately part of the recovery process, that sometimes we need to go backwards in order to see the progress we have made. This time it feels different though, there was no gradual descent, instead I fell straight back into Ana's trap. Rather than taking a few steps backwards I feel like I am right back at the start again. Once again I am surviving on next to nothing, existing on coffee and diet coke, relying on an adrenaline kick to get me through hours of dancing. I am constantly exhausted, my body is craving sleep, my skin bruising at the slightest knock. I am always cold.

My therapist has been incredible, she provides a safe haven, a place where I can cry, a sanctuary to talk through my deepest darkest demons without fear of repercussions. None of this helps, I am constantly aware of the amount of people I have let down by relapsing, talking openly about my struggles doesn't make me brave it merely proves that I am human. 

Today's therapy session ended with me being told that I either fight harder than ever or I slowly kill myself. They are tough words for anyone to hear, ultimately my future will be decided by what path I decide to take now. I will fight harder than I've ever fought for anything in my life. I want a future, I want to live.

To all those people who have contacted me thanking me for helping them, I will fight this for you.

A final goodbye

I am completely hopeless at saying a final goodbye there will be tears - lots of them, but ultimately it is time for me to say goodbye to ana.

I know many of you will be wondering why it's taken me so long to come to this realisation, but leaving a piece of you behind is hard. Ana has been there for the incredible highs and lows that has been my life over the last 2 years. Whilst she has been the worst part of my life, in some says she has also been the best. There is no doubt in my mind that I would be a completely different person today had ana not decided to attach herself to me again.

Don't get me wrong I have not, nor will I ever, consider ana to be a friend. Friends don't destroy each other, they don't whisper negative thoughts, they don't sit by and celebrate as your life slowly disintegrates around you. It may be hard for others to understand, but ana has been a part of my identity for such a long time that closing this chapter is hard. 

I don't want to spend the rest of my life with ana, I am aware she may well show herself every now and again but I don't want her to define me anymore.

Is closing the book going to be hard? You bet your life it is. Even writing this I can feel her clutching at me, desperately trying to claim what she believes is rightly hers. I don't want my life to be dictated by calories and safe food. I want to explore the world I live in without restrictions. 

With a clear head and a happy heart I bid farewell to ana, I am ready to move forwards, to embrace life.

Struggling

I'm not doing so well anymore. On the surface all looks well, there is a smile on my face and I am functioning in public behind the scenes though is a completely different story. I am drowning, I feel helpless to stop what is happening to me and I have no therapy sessions until September.

I am numb, the days pass by frustratingly slowly and I complete nothing except a carefully scheduled run. My brain is running on overdrive, the thinking doesn't stop. I am overwhelmed by all the thoughts that pass through my head on a daily basis none of them providing answers just more questions. 

Food is tough, my 'safe' list is back in practice however it is more restrictive than ever before. I snack on fruit believing it to be the best thing for me, yet my constant tiredness shows me I need more nourishment. 

I am tired, tired of fighting, tired of making progress and then falling back into bad habits. I am tired of seeing the look in people's eyes when they realise I am not doing so week, tired of being weak, tired of failing, tired of letting myself down, tired of letting others down but most of all I am tired of letting her win.

A realisation

For those of you who don't know I have recently started running again. I'm not sure what prompted me to start but i've been enjoying getting out of the house and out my head for a short period of time and having space to just be me. On the past few runs though I have noticed a disturbing trend appearing - I would run for as long as I could, and then run some more. The times and distance covered became more and more important to me and although I wasn't tracking calories I was always aware of approximately how much I was burning off.

Today something changed.

After celebrating the success of eating an ice cream last night (the first in 2 years) I am determined to keep fighting and I am absolutely not going to give up. For starters I have a gorgeous nephew and niece who are relying on me to take them to the beach, teach them tricks and enjoy copious amount of treats with. It's not just me who this illness is stifling but those around me too.

So what changed?

This morning I set off for a run as usual, I was about 6 minutes in and on track to hit my targets when I decided to just have fun. Why run for times when I could have fun? I ran with sheep, walked with ducks and skipped through puddles and I LOVED every minute of it. Yes my times were slow, but I finished with a smile on my face. I didn't care how much distance I had covered or how long it had taken me. I had enjoyed being outdoors. Sure my eating disorder was screaming at me the whole time but I zoned her out - thanks to a banging playlist!

Who honestly cares if it takes me 7 minutes or 12 minutes to run a mile, a mile is still a mile right?

I am still going to keep running, I enjoy it and I enjoy the freedom I get from myself. From now on though I will not be sharing times and distances (my app will continue to record everything but I am not going to publish them anywhere else). I am going to stop competing with myself and others to get the fastest times and I am not going to be concerned with anyone else's times or distance covered.

I am not going to let this eating disorder destroy any more of my life. It is time to fight back and fight back hard.

Pictures of some of my recent runs:



 

 

I really am lucky to have some beautiful countryside on the doorstep.


FYI - I am currently raising money for the Matt Hampson Foundation. I will be running a 10k in London on July 13th and I would really appreciate it if you could sponsor me - text GEMP78 £5 to 70070 or donate here.

I deserve

I deserve breakfast. I deserve to enjoy food. I deserve to be able to look in the mirror and like what I see. I deserve ice cream and fudge and the other goodies I have so ruthlessly cut out. I deserve to be happy. I deserve a future. 

Underneath

I live a lie. If you met me you'd never guess the battles I fight with anxiety and an eating disorder. I would sit opposite you with a coffee having 'eaten earlier' or feigning no appetite. I would hold a conversation, laugh and appear to have it all. You wouldn't see how much preparation had gone into meeting - the outfit changes, the pep talks, checking menus online should I absolutely have to eat with you. I have mastered the ability to just blend in, I don't stand out, I don't demand attention. You probably walk past many people like me every day, individuals desperately trying to look like they have everything under control as they slowly crumble away. 

I don't know which me is 'me' anymore. I have spent so long projecting the 'everything's fine' lie that I actually really do find myself believing that's the truth. In my messed up mind not eating has become the norm, pushing my body to breaking point is just what people do, denying myself treats just demonstrates will power. In the most underhand way possible my eating disorder has penetrated my soul and started to make me believe that she is correct. On the outside I have my shit together - I talk about needing to book a doctors appointment because I am spiralling downwards yet I haven't picked up the phone. I can tell people what they want to hear, to keep them from knocking on my door, yet I appear to be incapable of helping myself.

Don't be fooled by my appearance, I may be smiling but scratch the surface and I am falling apart. 

Reminder

And being proud of myself is nothing to be ashamed of.

Crushing Disappointment

Well today was supposed to be THE day, I had eagerly booked a doctors appointment for a prescription  review and to see how I was doing with my recovery. I woke up early, eager to get to the appointment, I was already planning how I was going to celebrate, thats how certain I was that everything was going to go my way.

It didn't.

I had already resigned myself to the fact the my medication probably wasn't going to be reduced - next Thursday marks the end of the current round of treatment, plus March is gearing up to be a pretty hectic month for me - but I think if i'm being honest that I was still hoping for some sort of reduction. I'm lucky, my GP is fantastic at cutting through the BS she saw straight away that I was worrying and after a discussion we decided to make another appointment for a months time where I am reassured that my medication will be reduced slightly.

I was also hoping for some sort of improvement with the ED, sure I know that my head isn't in the right place yet but I am working ridiculously hard to get myself there. I've come to accept that food will probably always be a problem for me. I battle every day to get myself to eat something, enough to hit that magic calorie intake, yes sometimes I fail (more often than not if i'm being completely honest) but I try I try so hard. So it was a huge shock to me to discover that not only have I not put on any weight but I've actually managed to lose some. I cannot tell you just how disappointed I am with myself, it feels as if all my hard work has been in vain. What is the point in trying so hard if I am not going to see any results at the end? I can't spend the rest of my life fighting a losing battle.

I've cried  A LOT. I am annoyed and angry with myself, I have questioned every food related decision I have made, then I've cried some more. I am not ready to give up just yet. I am not prepared to just roll over and let this shitty illness keep me from living the rest of my life. Sure today I took a massive step backwards, but I'm not going to let myself wallow in self pity, I have too much to live for. I've given myself too many allowances from now on it's time to get tough.

My Path

This week is Eating Disorder Awareness Week throughout my recovery I have strived to support and help as many people as I possibly can whilst raising awareness for EDNOS (eating disorder not otherwise specified). I have written a lot about my recovery but I don't think I have written about how I got to this point in my life.

I wasn't born hating my body, I was an active child, I loved running, jumping, dancing, exploring etc... I loved what my body could do, I loved ballet class and playing sports, I don't think I was aware of what 'fat' or 'thin' was. I cannot remember my body ever being criticised by anyone and up until the age of 11 I was lucky enough to never have been bullied. Life changed for me when I went to Secondary School, I already knew by this point that my life would revolve around dance, I was academic and loved to learn which unfortunately meant I was bullied. I was teased for my love of dance, for the fact that I would often miss events due to a dance class, my hair was never right, nor was my make up and for the first time I was aware of body, or more importantly the lack of development. Girls around me were growing boobs, starting periods and beginning to date boys, I often felt left behind and couldn't join in conversations about periods and bras as I wasn't there yet. Don't get me wrong I was lucky to have amazing friends who I laughed constantly with and who made my school days happy despite the internal upset. It was at this point that I started to restrict food, I thought I was being clever and that I was hiding it well, luckily I wasn't - my mom sat me down and explained to me that food was fuel that unless I started eating more I would be unable to carry on dancing, at the time this was enough to push me back onto the right path. I stopped restricting food but I did develop a new habit at the time it didn't have a name but now it is known as 'chew and spit', I got to satisfy my desire for sweets without actually having to digest them. This stopped almost as quickly as it began and I settled back into an easy relationship with food.

Through therapy I have discovered that that last sentence is in fact a lie, whenever life has been difficult for me I have punished myself with food, at times I wanted to be invisible, I didn't share my thoughts and feelings with anyone around me as I was scared of being judged. I think I always knew I had a problem but instead of confronting it I kept it a secret, one hidden away in the very depths of my being. In the months leading up to my wedding I was proud of myself for not being a bride on a diet, for being able to keep myself in recovery. Yet this all changed when we went to the Maldives on our honeymoon - I stopped eating meat out there and became obsessed with where the food was from, how it was prepared and whether or not it was 'safe' to eat, all normal fear I hear you say, but for me the fear opened a box that had been locked away and forgotten about. Slowly but surely I let the eating disorder  back into my life, at first I didn't notice her until one day I woke up to discover she had effectively taken over. 

I'm not prepared to go into the ins and out of my descent into relapsing - I think it would be too triggering both for myself and others, but I do know that this relapse has been the worst one yet. I have been clawing my way out of the hole for some time and although I am nowhere near being recovered I know that I will get there one day.

As an EDNOS sufferer I don't fit the 'typical' picture of someone with an eating disorder, yes I am slim but not to the point that people would look at me an know instantly there is a problem. This is the part I have really struggled with, can I really have an eating disorder without the anorexic label? Through research and lots of detailed talks with my therapist I have realised that eating disorders are more of a mental issue than I ever realised - the problem isn't with my body, its with my mind, the way it alters my belief system about food, the way is messes with my reflection in the mirror. Recovery is about addressing everything, not just the food issues.

Everyday I have to remind myself that the ED voice is a lie, she wants me to punish myself, she wants me to be invisible, but I won't let her. I know I am strong enough to fight, strong enough to recover and hopefully strong enough to be able to inspire others.

End of the road?

Tomorrow is my last eating disorder therapy session, does this mean I am recovered, absolutely not! This week I've been particularly bad, whilst I don't want to disclose numbers I know I am surviving on less than half my recommend calorie intake. I'm terrified about what will happen once that support has disappeared, I've spoken to by GP and she has told me that if I need more help then I'll have to join a TWO YEAR waiting list - I'm not sure I can do that. Two years is an awfully long time to go with no professional support. I'm lucky that I have an incredible support network around me, people who are desperate for me to recover, yet that desperation worries me. In a therapy session I can be completely honest, spill out my darkest fears and talk candidly about my feelings, I just don't think that is possible with the people you love. I feel like I have a weight of expectation on my shoulders, not just my own hopes for recovery but also those of everyone who loves me.

I have been told daily that I am an inspiration, by complete strangers on twitter to friends, yet I feel I am living a lie. How can I be inspiring others to fight for recovery when I am doing so badly? How can others take my words and turn them into inspiration to eat when I cannot? What on earth is going to happen to me when I am on my own? Tomorrow will mark a big step forward for me, the biggest one I have taken on my recovery journey so far, and I am terrified about where I am going to end up.

Life is a roller coaster...

...and I want to get off. I'm not sure how much longer I can deal with the incredible highs and the insufferable lows anymore. I have two therapy sessions left, do I feel ready to not have that security blanket there - no. I'm scared that I'm not strong enough, not recovered enough to make sensible choices when it comes to food. 

This weekend has been one hell of a ride. I was on cloud none on Thursday after managing two sips of milk (I'm hopeful that this summer I'll be able to enjoy ice cream) yet that disappeared on Friday after dinner when I had to sit on my hands to stop myself from purging. I've restricted food intake this weekend and suffered because of it, I've been tired, miserable and had one heck of a headache, that doesn't sound like someone making sensible choices to me.

In a desperate attempt to gain some normality in my life I finally sat down and wrote out a meal plan, I'm hoping that having everything written out in front of me will help silence the voice. Right now I'm willing to try anything.

Editing life

Therapy sessions are never fun, they force us to delve into our subconscious and reveal all those idiosyncrasies we try so hard to keep hidden away. There are no secrets, no edited pasts, our true selves are on display for a stranger to analyse and make sense of.

I must admit I found therapy hard at first, talking so intimately with a stranger was completely out of my comfort zone, as the weeks have progressed I've found then comforting, they are a place for me to talk about how I really feel without fear of upsetting anyone. Therapy has made me realise how much of myself I edit in order to please other people. A glance at my Facebook page reveals little of my current struggles, little of the anxiety and the battles I fight every day - there life is peachy, a perfect snapshot. On twitter I am more open, I find it easier to share my feelings, perhaps because it's to people who understand my battles, who can offer support and advice to keep me going. Even here on my blog, a place where I can truly be myself I still find myself editing life, I don't write about arguments with my husbands, disagreements with friends etc... I wonder why I find it so hard to be truly honest with myself? Has ana played her nastiest trick yet? Am I simply unable to see all the good because I am drowning in the murky waters below, I hope not, desperately. 

My life isn't perfect of course it isn't, but it is pretty damn good. Having an eating disorder is (unfortunately) part of me, a part that will never go away, so I have to learn to embrace it, to overcome, to shout proudly from the rooftops that I am a fighter. Therapy has taught me to listen to myself, to not beat myself up for imagined failures but to celebrate the positives. From here on in I have made a promise to myself to stop editing, to record my life as it is warts and all, after all what is the point of creating a reminder of life if it isn't my life?

Help

Dear Readers,

I never wanted this blog to become a place of negativity but today I desperately need to reach out for help. As you all know my path to recovery has been treacherous, I have great days and not so great days but I always know in my heart that I am heading in the right direction - however over the last few days I have felt myself losing a grip on reality and now I need help/advice on how to get myself back onto the right track.

Up until this point in my recovery I have been making steady process, sure I have been blinded with insecurity along the way but deep in my heart I have known that things are getting better. Now I have a new insecurity, one that has the potential to destroy me - I have developed a hatred for feeling full, whether that be from food or liquid. I hate the fullness, I hate how it makes me feel and I hate how much I detest myself for being full. I have to be honest and admit that there have been times where I have thought about purging the only reason that I haven't ventured down this path is because of my overwhelming fear of being sick, but the fact that the thought has popped into my mind absolutely terrifies me. I am scared that one day I won't be this strong, that the ED will override me and that I will succumb to this new demon.

So my question to you is how do I move forward form this point? How do I keep myself moving forward and ignore the new demon on my shoulder?

Disappointment

You know what's really hard - constantly feeling disappointed. I'm either disappointed with myself for eating or angry because I haven't eaten which leaves other people feeling disappointed. I am a people pleaser by nature, I very rarely say no and I will do everything in my power to make the people around me happy. I know they'd be ecstatic if I just ate normally, if I woke up one morning back to the old carefree Gemma, I hate that I'm struggling to do the one thing that would please them most. 

I recently had an argument with myself about this very blog, by sharing with you my battles I am inviting you into my life, very often I am overwhelmed by the support you give me and yet I am aware that you want me to get better, by writing here that I am struggling I somehow feel like I am letting you down too. The obvious answer is that I stop writing about the eating disorder but to me that seems like a lie, if I can't be completely true to myself here where can I be? Besides it feels like you guys have become my cheerleaders, you encourage me, support me and remind me constantly that I will get better. So this battle continues... 

The biggest disappointment I face is myself. I often find myself wondering how I ended up on the path - I have spent my whole life surrounded with love - I never dreamt that one day food would become my energy. I hate that I can't bring myself to prepare porridge (it's porridge for crying out loud) because the ED says it's bad but I am disappointed that her voice is winning. Man my brain is all kinds of messed up, it's no wonder that I feel so tired! 

I am in turmoil dear readers, to win this war I need to eat and continue to eat for the rest of my life, if I can't manage to eat one proper meal without feeling disappointed how can I get better? If I don't get better than how will I survive knowing I'll be disappointing all the people I hold near to my heart?

My words to live by right now. Thank you Martin Luther King Jr.

Inspire

Last night, whilst lying in bed not sleeping, I started thinking about the reasons why I blog. Yes it will be nice in the future to look back and see how far I have come and how much I developed as a person, yes I enjoy being able to write down my thoughts and feelings without fear of judgement, but much more than that I want to inspire someone. I want someone to read my jumbled up thoughts and realise that they are not alone, to know that I understand how they are feeling, for them to know that it is ok to reach out and ask for help. 

For a long time I felt alone, I thought I was alone, that no-one else could possibly understand how I felt, I mean I didn't understand so there was no way I could explain to someone else. My brain was a bunch of contradictions which I could not begin to fathom out. Even now - a year down the line, with a body pumped full of anti anxiety tablets and weekly therapy sessions to help me figure out what is going on - I still don't know how to unravel the thoughts in my head. I have discovered that it is ok to be scared, that it is ok to ask for help, thanks to twitter I have a network of support that I never believed could exist. Complete strangers send me messages to make sure I am ok, they reassure me when I am in the middle of a bad day and they are there to congratulate me when things go well, I have no words to express my thanks and gratitude to them but I will be eternally grateful for those kind strangers who have rescued me from myself.

So dear reader, you may be reading this because you have followed my blog from the start (thanks!!) or you may have stumbled across this post at a time when you feel alone, I want to tell you that you aren't, there are people out there who want to help, who will help and who won't judge no matter what you have to tell them. Remember what you have overcome in the past, the obstacles you have conquered and know that I BELIEVE IN YOU. I am nowhere near recovered but I am so much further along than I was a year ago, yes it is hard, yes there are days when I don't want to get out of bed, when I don't want to fight anymore, but I know that one day I will get there, you will too. Believe in yourself.

 

My tree

It starts off as an innocuous thought somewhere deep in my subconscious, a thought I can't even begin to vocalise because I don't know what it is. It's clever though, it plants a seed which takes root and eventually spreads into my conscious mind telling me no. No you don't need food, no that person doesn't want to talk to you, no you don't look good - you get the picture. This one thought, that I had absolutely no control over, has left me living in the shadow of its branches, a spectacular tree which I have watered and nurtured over many months has now become such a part of me that it's hard to let go, but let go I must.

As I wandered through the leaves and branches which the recent storm had covered the local path with I was struck by the realisation that all my tree of doubt needed was a damn good shake. I can't get rid of my tree with one shake, but I can stop nurturing it, I can listen to my therapist and slowly but surely add more food to my safe list, I can listen to my husband when he tells me I look good, I can believe that I will get better. 

My tree has drained me of the believe that I deserve to be here, as it had grown I have shrunk, now is the time to fight back. I deserve to be living, I have a right and a reason to be here. I may not yet know what my purpose in life is but I know I have one and I know that this eating disorder is not the end for me. 

Monster

Somewhere deep inside me there a monster, she (for some reason it's a she and not a he, maybe because girls are bitchier) shouts at me that I'm not good enough, not pretty enough, not talented enough, not thin enough, not ill enough. Every day she is there, an invisible enemy that is draining me, I am fighting a battle that feels extreme and hard. I desperately battle to keep her voice at bay, listening to music helps as it keeps my mind from wandering off to find her, yet she is strong. She has been patiently waiting for me to slip back into get grasp again and now she is victorious.

A few short weeks ago I was doing well, I was blocking her out and winning my battle with food, then I got tired, my body feeling the strain of dancing 6 days a week and boom she was back. 

I am still fighting, I am determined not to let her win. For the first time in my life I don't want to be the best at something, after all the best anorexics end up dead.