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Within four weeks of seeing my GP I was sitting in front of two eating disorder nurse specialists, who confirmed a diagnosis of anorexia. I was offered a weekly outpatient appointment for six weeks.
I remember when I was younger asking my mum what an ‘eating disorder’ was in the car. I was about eight years old and had heard it mentioned on the radio. She said that ‘people who can't eat’ have them. I thought nothing of it after that.
You lied to me; you twisted and warped my reality. Isolating me. Tormenting me. You told me that all I needed was to lose a few more pounds. But you were never happy. You made me hate myself.
Kelsie Silverstone, 20 years old, from Wolverhampton, has recently launched her appeal to raise awareness about eating disorders and funds for Beat, the UK’s eating disorder charity.
It all started from several stressful events in my life, which I dealt with by exercising and controlling what I ate. Prior to its the development, I was a happy, loud and approachable character whom friends or family would turn to.
There I was, sitting in front of the GP, age going on 33, a decade of anorexia behind me. Was I going to tell the whole story? 'I’ve had a chest infection for six weeks and I’m scared I’m losing my hearing. Pause. Deep breath. “The real reason I’m so ill is anorexia. I’ve got anorexia.'
Zero is the number I am driven to reach by the 'friend' in my mind. I am to eat zero of this and that, and I am to take up zero space.
I want to start this post by taking you back two years. It’s the summer of 2015 and I’m about to start my first year of sixth form. I can’t say I was particularly excited by the prospect, as like many decisions I have made in my life it wasn’t actually something I really wanted to do.
University – a time full of new experiences, new friends, new skills and also new challenges. My first year at university ended up being the most challenging and unpredictable year of my life.
For a bit of background about me - I have struggled with my eating disorder since I was 16 (I am now 24 and in recovery). I never knew that it had taken hold of me that young until I started to talk about my experience and tracked it back.
For many years, I kept my struggles with eating disorders as private as I could. Only a couple of close friends knew about my struggles with anorexia and bulimia throughout my late teens and early twenties.
I have heard this sentence so many times over the years: 'You’re not skinny enough to have an eating disorder.' But excuse me, who are you to say my mental state is determined by the number on the scale? Who are you to question whether or not I'm struggling?