At Beat, there has never been any place for judgement nor lack of understanding, which has made each one of my volunteering shifts feel sincerely appreciated, acknowledged and, in a nutshell, special!

I imagine my journey as a Beat volunteer started similarly to many of my colleagues – having the difficult and unfortunate experience of encountering an eating disorder up close, in my case from a carer's perspective.

I wanted something positive to come out of the years of stress and struggle that we had and hoped that I could give hope and encouragement to another carer, which is what would have helped me when I was going through the worst times.

I have been a digital volunteer for Beat for just over six months now and I can honestly say it is one of the most amazing things that I have ever done.

Everything is a learning curve, especially in recovery, when it can feel like you are literally learning to live again.

I won’t go into the reason why I developed bulimia because I want to focus on recovery. I was diagnosed at age 35, and I had developed it as a teen. Roughly 18 – 20 years of malnutrition and semi-starvation.

After looking back on the years of my life that were taken due to my eating disorder, I realise how much I now love my life and want to keep recovering every day.

Climbing mountains was often a metaphor for challenge and achievement – especially Everest – but not every challenge was proportional. Bulimia was a completely different mountain.

Being open and owning my transition helped me get through it. My eating disorder has been a completely different story.

I've had EDNOS (eating disorder not otherwise specified), for twelve years now. Although first diagnosed as anorexic binge purge subtype, my habits and behaviours were constantly changing as the years went by.

I want to say that my disordered eating habits crept up on me, but I remember giving this side of my disorder great thought and careful consideration. It was my disordered thinking that weaved its way into my mind and took hold.

As an individual who often struggles to verbalise disordered thoughts, attempting to engage in therapy and meaningful conversations is something I find hugely challenging. I

For a long time, I struggled to accept help because I didn’t believe I deserved it. I didn’t agree with my diagnosis and I thought I was attention seeking. When I finally started attending therapy, I felt like an imposter.

For me, that first step was admitting I had a problem. For months, my friends, my family, and my colleagues all voiced concerns over my appearance and my condition, which of course I duly ignored.

I know that there are a lot of factors involved in the development of my eating disorder and no two cases are the same. I was able to map what were the major triggers for me, and I am fully aware that this might not be the case for you.

I always questioned “will I be taken seriously” or “perhaps I’m a just greedy person” or “everyone gets low and comfort eats” or “how can I have a disorder when I seem to have a normal life”.

Living with Bulimia lifts the lid on the truth about eating disorders. Now we must reconsider the way we think about and treat them.

I can’t remember exactly when my relationship with food became toxic but, once it did, it was like a snowball rolling down a hill, getting larger and larger and faster and faster.

I wanted to fundraise for Beat because I suffer from anorexia nervosa. I reached crisis last year when I was hospitalised for six months, but that should never have happened.

I can say now with confidence that the government’s obesity strategy is not going to work.