This week starts of something that could have taken my life,
Yet here I am to tell my story.
12 years ago I developed an eating disorder and although 2026 is the first year I can say I have been fully recovered theres been lots of ups and downs throughout my journey.
I have worked super hard.
Relapses came alongside recovery- but look at me now!
Worth the fight!
And I’m proud of how far I’ve come with plenty more celebrations and milestones to come!
The voices in my head go around and around,
Repeating insults and judgements about my actions,
Making me doubt my worth in this life,
Am I good enough?
Have I convinced myself that I actually matter?
Who am I kidding?!
How could anyone love me?
But then there is a whisper…
Among the screams of negative rumours circling my brain – there is a childs voice;
Young and innocent,
It sounds calm and free,
I try and make out their words,
As I tune in to the childs’ voice the screams lower their volume, almost like they are losing their power to speak,
“You know what you need to do, Rhi. You can choose. I’m still here and I’m so proud of you for staying.”
They were the words I needed.
I’m staying.
Without realising, the negative voices were gone. I guess they lost interest in shouting lies at me.
My inner child’s voice was stronger and that’s all I needed.
I’m recovering for little Rhi.
She deserves to live a life of freedom.
I have nearly lost the life inside my body on multiple occasions, yet I feel I’m waiting for the next sign of life beaming like the sun rises and the clouds separate to reveal the brightness.
I can only imagine my smile beaming like that strong glow.
The day will come.
Until then, I’ll deal with the fog. The unknown. The moments that, although I can’t choose to replay over and over for the sake of my own happiness, may be the moments that I can look back on with a heart full of joy and reflect on the journey since.
Perhaps happiness is in the moments that can be looked upon and a genuine feeling of accomplishment felt that make the lifeless, hopeless, burdening days worth it.
My Eating Disorder crept in, slowly then pounced and snatched me from my safe place.
I never knew who was behind the voice but it seemed gentle and convincing when it spoke. Pronouncing every letter in each word as if it were a witch’s spell.
The voice would pull me towards it, closer and closer without revealing too much of its identity.
I felt like a puppet on strings with each instruction being obeyed.
It was as if it knew if I was going to rebel in any way.
My eating disorder took me from my family and friends. I stood in the kitchen, rage overflowing my head. I would soon blow in front of my mum as she gave me my dinner plate stacked with food.
“Why am I like this?”
As if I was asking my brain to reply to my question.
Why do I have to cause such brokenness?
Why do I feel like such a failure?
I didn’t understand the words eating disorder at the time, but I soon would realise that anorexia would have a hold on me for over 10 years. It would strip me to my bones and deny me of making any choices.
The year 2026.
Maybe not the year everything will turn perfect given there’s no such thing. Ok, change will take place. It will be a process, a long tiring journey. But every journey has a starting point and an ending point. A final destination. A place you want to reach towards and achieve.
I’m no longer on my journey. I’ve reached the point I wanted to get to, maybe even without realising it.
The voice has no power in my life anymore. It lost its fight, and I won the war.
Because when you want something bad enough, you can actually scare yourself into fighting harder, until it gets easier.
You can’t allow it time or space. It’ll take advantage of both, while getting cosy and lying in place, waiting for the next opportunity to ruin. The dismissal, the endless instructions with no leeway.
Im Rhiannon. I’m 25 and I’m fully recovered from anorexia.
I never thought I’d say those words. I thought the battle was a lifelong one.
Stay strong!
Keep your head up, queens!
And reach your final recovery destination.
Recovery has ups and downs.
It doesn’t happen without choice,
Though relapse happens only through the choices we make.
Uncomfortable feelings would often lead me down a path of destruction, a path I was too stubborn and consumed by negative thinking to ever turn back from or stop pursuing.
Soon after each time on the self-sabotage road, I crossed my own boundaries and felt too far gone to help myself.
Although I felt so many emotions all at once, I still described myself as numb and distant.
I didn’t understand yet…
Today, as I lie in my bed writing this blog, I reflect on my day.
I got up and dressed. I ate breakfast and walked into town to collect my weekend medications. I proceeded to go to my 5k race where I felt nervous, a little paranoid and maybe a bit ashamed for not being ‘as good as others’. Never the less i persisted to run. I did this with doubts and niggling thoughts telling me to give up and quit.
I KEPT GOING!
I knew I would be proud of myself at the finish line. I knew I’d rather push through these thoughts, hard as it was.
The feeling of crossing that line brought me to tears for a moment. I faced my anxiety, fear, shame, all those feelings that could have cornered me. I could have let them win.
NOT TODAY!
IM BEAMING!
BUZZING!
I’ve come a long way. In the past i would let it knock me down and I would lie there.
Progress isn’t always from milestones, but having a different mental thought pattern and outcome to similar emotions that would not have a positive result even just 6 months ago.
If not now then when will you ever feel ready?
Putting recovery off,
Holding back from implementing change,
Not moving forward because the timung doesnt feel right,
Waiting for another while because you don’t feel you ‘need’ to get better yet.
Putting it off doesn’t get you any further forward. It’ll feel more like a step backwards in the long term. Staying stuck isn’t the objective. It may feel safe to not make changes to behaviours because, let’s face it, we get used to the feeling of something becoming a habit or routine or first thought and action.
But where do you want to be in a year?
Still stuck?
3 steps backwards?
Continuing to act on harmful urges?
I think you are scared to change.
It’ll be uncomfortable and new and difficult.
But is staying the way you feel right now, where you want to continue being?
Or are there small steps you can include in your day to make a difference?
Little tip toes forward every day will add up in the long term and you will notice progress.
Maybe progress will come in different forms…
A wider, brighter, more genuine smile.
Interacting with others more.
Sharing goals and how you’re going to get there with your support network.
Take it slow.
Nothing will be perfect within seconds.
Understand the changes that need to happen.
Break them down in to steps.
Take it step by step.
I know you can, my friend.
Life is here to live, not just survive.
Recovery is worth it, but thats something you have to want to find out and prove to yourself.
Stay safe.
You deserve happiness.
Youve come through too much and too far to quit.
I know you may read this and wonder how I know…
Everyone in this world is fighting their own personal battle.
Life is never perfect.
And recovery isn’t straightforward.
Youve got to push through,
Fight for the people who love you, the things you want to achieve and stay on track.
Your happiness doesn’t always come from the happiness that you give others.
Sometimes you have to put yourself first.
Think about what you want for your future.
And understand that not every decision will be the right one or viewed as wise.
When you decide to study a course that will help you reach your goal, it may not make others happy.
But what’s important is that you believe in your ability to pursue the dream.
Grab it with both hands and prove that you can,
For your happiness, your future and your journey!
What’s the point?
I wouldn’t even try to ask myself this.
I’d have engaged in risk, acted to a point of relapse with consequences to my health and broken trust in relationships and friendships.
I would never sit myself down to take a deep breath and slow down before behaving in a way that was harmful to me.
I wouldn’t think about what I could lose or would be giving up on.
There didn’t seem to be space to settle myself.
Or perhaps there was space, but no time was granted.
I don’t really know.
Although I can reflect afterwards, nothing really has seemed to happen any differently.
I still act out, I still feel overwhelmed.
I just end up telling myself each time that it’ll be the last.
Maybe I believed that, even with no change.
The same old pattern.
All support dismissed.
Reaching out before risk, only to call the same phone number and tell them I’ve harmed myself, crying for help.
Does it get better?
Do things change?
Or is this going to be what kills me?
Ultimately, the years of surviving overdoses, the self-harm wounds, the deadly eating disorder…
They could have destroyed me.
I can’t risk my life for a temporary relief to settle an urge that could go wrong one day and end my life.
Truly, when I reflect on what I’ve survived both through the hard, consistent support of others and my perseverance to fight my own brain, I don’t want to lose this battle.
When I think about what I want to achieve, I feel selfish.
It’s like I shouldn’t be allowed to achieve what I want because I’ve tried so many times to quit living.
Why should I be given permission or the opportunity to choose, now that I am living a life I take for granted?
I didn’t ask for my life to be saved, yet it was.
I didn’t want another chance, but that’s what I was given.
I’m always up for telling myself that it’ll not happen again…
It won’t get that bad.
But I crumble!
It’s like my life falls through my fingers.
Like, there isn’t any meaning or power in my words.
I don’t know if I believe what leaves my lips sometimes.
But I believe that I want to get to a place in life where things aren’t quite so hard.
They’ll never be perfect, or satisfying every single day.
If I can survive what I have already, let’s just make each day a little more positive and go moment by moment.
No expectations of perfection.
Just slow, steady progress that is maintained over time.
I’m gonna say just one word…..
Sorry.
I know you feel like youve caused 1000 problems and they all end with the promise of behaviours not happening again.
Yet within 12 hours of committing to recovery youve created another crisis situation where youve surrounded by support and claiming you have no one.
‘I dont know when the change needs to happen’, you proclaim each time the same question is asked by the teams of professionals who want to see you chase your dreams.
‘What is going on, Rhiannon?’
The question your brain can tell is coming though you have no words to form into a reply.
‘Youve got so much to work for, to keep you goinh. So many people who just want to help you acknowledge your own potential.
Life is impossible, or it seems that way.
So whats keeping you here?
If it was impossible you wouldnt be surviving. You wouldnt be ringing lifeline and reflecting in appointments.
Something inside you is holding on.
Maybe by a thread… but youre still trying!
And sure your grip is slipping and everything feels heavy.
Your lack of consistent recovery is aching to be changed.
You know that you dont want to die.
Youre full of hope and joy amd motivation in the moments that you feel in control.
Coursework is a choice that you werent forced into today, yet you continue to progress and learn and strive for a life free of your own struggles in order to be a safe haven for others.
Give yourself grace.
Give yourself time.
Give yourself the option to minimise risk and have other safe, healthy choices.
Youve got the knowledge and skills to build a life worth living.
One that you wake up and look forward to.
One that doesnt feel dreaded or lost from the first moment.
Nothing in life needs to be perfect.
When you think of your deepest, darkest moments of depression, thats not where youre at now, Rhiannon.
Youve come so so far from that 13 year old girl who was shrinking her life as well as her body.
The years that have been spent in hospital, in relapse, in unsafe situations, all may feel like wasted time that have not moved you any further forward….
You dont need to stay stuck!
You need to move yourself from where youve got uncomfortable with being unsafe.
And write the rest of your story with a plot twist!
The ending can be so different to how it has started.
“Hello, how can I help you today?”
The middle-aged woman at the reception desk asked, full of enthusiasm and joy.
I wondered why I had found myself at the help desk of my doctor’s surgery.
“I guess I have realised I need a little bit of support…” My voice was full of nerves, and I was breathing heavily, holding back tears.
“I’m not doing so well. My mood is rock bottom. I’ve not felt this low before. I’m scared of my own thoughts.”
The woman stood up from her chair and came out from behind the glass window where I was aware i could’nt actually be heard very well.
She embraced me in a supportive, safe hug.
“You are so brave. Can I please ask you your name?” She was gentle and kind.
“Rhiannon,” I replied with a pause.
After 20 minutes alone in the waiting room, with no sound, what felt like very little air and tears flowing down my cheeks, a tall, dark-haired woman came towards where I was sitting. I immediately looked down. I had tried to shrink myself. I had made myself mentally and physically as small as possible because I felt like such a huge problem in this already cruel world.
“Rhiannon isn’t it?”
I nodded without making eye contact.
“I’m Lucy.”
We took our time getting to her office. I felt dizzy, weak, and tired. I hadn’t had much appetite recently. I suppose I didn’t really allow myself the time to feel any hunger, even though I would sit in the same seat in the corner of my living room. Curtains pulled, lights off. Just drowning in my self-hatred and exhaustion.
“I need to ask you a difficult question, Rhiannon.”
I swallowed the growing lump in my very dry throat as the words processed in my head.
“Do you have any thoughts to cause harm to yourself or that your life isn’t worth living? Please be as honest as you can so I can try my best to help.”
At this point I knew I had been hiding so much from others around me, acting like I was living. Yet every day felt like I was losing myself a little more. I had somehow convinced those around me that I was fine, that I had pushed down my struggles and believed my lies… Until this moment.
Tears weren’t waiting to roll down my face now. I was sobbing. Everything felt so heavy. I had reached my breaking point. My brain needed to take some weight off the load it had been carrying for far too long.
I looked up and took a deep breath. Then another. I slowed it right down so I could form some words.
“I’m always tired. I’m constantly sad, numb or feeling like my life is pointless.”
I’d never said that to anyone out loud before. Yea. I’d occasionally text a helpline through fear I’d follow through with the thought I was having. But nothing ever came from it, just text again if the thoughts put you in immediate danger.
“What activities used to give you hope?” I could hear the concern in her voice, though she stayed completely calm.
I thought back to when I was younger and would visit my granny. We’d have chips for dinner and she’d buy us a bag of sweets. The memory seemed to take me back and I got a little lost in the past.
A few moments went by. “Rhiannon?” Lucy gently put her hand on my shoulder to bring me back to the present moment.
“Where has your mind taken you with that question? You seemed to get a little bit lost…”
“I always felt happy when I visited…..” I couldn’t get any more words out. I missed her. I missed my granny every single day. I wished I could give her a big hug and never let go. But I couldn’t do that anymore.
“Lucy, can I ask you something please?” I managed to mumble.
“Of course. I’ll do my best to answer.”
“Can life get better when every day feels like there is a new battle wound to deal with? Things feel too heavy. And it hurts. I just want to have a moment of feeling less.”
She gathered her thoughts before letting out a relieved sigh.
“You have taken the hardest step. You know you want help. And you’ve asked for it. Not everyone has the strength to ask. You are going to have better days. Trust yourself, even when it’s incredibly hard. Allow yourself the time you need to heal what has been broken for so long. We’re going to support you to gain your glow back. I hope someday that you will feel that your life is worth living. But until then we can help you to stay afloat. We aren’t going to do it for you, though. It needs to come from you too. We are there for the moments you feel like you are drowning. We can hold you above the water while you find the strength to swim again.”
In those 40 minutes of slow communication back and forth, I felt listened to and as if I mattered. I reflected on things that had always felt too hard to face.
I left the appointment with what I can only describe as peace. Nothing inside me was screaming.
I want to say at this time, that this encounter didn’t cure me. I still struggle. I still feel sad and angry and numb sometimes. My days aren’t as difficult but they also don’t come without their challenges. One thing has changed for sure. I feel ready to make progress. Slow, steady steps forward. Consistently being honest. No expectations. No limits to the emotions I feel. Healthy boundaries and daily recovery reflections. Empowerment on the hard days, stability of some sort on the better ones.
I’ve discovered a version of myself I had lost.
She’s here to stay!
