Two years ago, I gradually gathered bravery to try to get better. I did not think that I would get there, I did not think I would make it out alive, and certainly did not think I would feel genuine happiness ever again (and that was before I even started).
This year I ran a half marathon for Beat and managed to raise £1600 (so far!!!) to help everyone effected by eating disorders. I thought I would never heal my relationship with exercise and food, but I am not running anymore for the reasons I used to.
I am running to raise awareness and money for the brave people who are not sure they will make it through the next day, but they keep going.
... For the parents who must check their own child is still breathing at night. Who sit in appointments with doctors being the most educated person in the room. Who hear more crying and screaming than laughing.
... For the siblings who are watching their sibling fade away into a shell of themselves. Who watch them physically fight against doctors giving lifesaving treatment.
... To the people who do not think they will ever get better. Who are fighting a monster so big in their head they feel they are losing the battle. Who are still stuck in the depths of the darkest storm they will ever face.
... To every single person who lost their fight and taken too soon. Daughters, sons, sisters, brothers, friends, cousins who were all loved so much.
And finally,
I am running for me.
... For the past me who lost every ounce joy she had.
... For the past me who sat alone at school lunch with nothing but dread.
... For the me who lost friends she thought would never leave her side.
... For the me who had to watch beautiful friends die from this illness.
... For the me who just wanted someone to understand the pain of every minute.
I had been living in hell, waking up just to want to go back to sleep. Every day, suffering with anorexia nervosa was an endless struggle to please something that was killing me. I went through motions of life with so little happiness like my soul had been sucked from me.
People would tell me over and over, “Trust the process,” “I promise it will be worth it” - but not an ounce of me felt hope or bravery. I thought one day I would wake up and suddenly want to get better. I wasted years of my life waiting for that moment, it nearly cost me my life, and what is worse was I did not care if it did cost me my life.
Despite the agony, turmoil and pure terror eating inflicted, I slowly started making braver but much harder decisions. I chose to eat to end the dull, cold misery of existence with anorexia nervosa. Sometimes I forgot why I was doing it, especially when recovery felt like a fire in my brain that no one could see. I would suffer fits of unbearable guilt but I kept going through despite wanting nothing but to give up and transcend into the safety shell of my eating disorder…
But that shell is lonely, it is freezing, it is loveless. So, I walked into the fire time and time again.
What kept me from turning back: tiny moments of hope such as sunsets, a laugh, dogs, art, and the slight glimpse that it could get better if I carried on.
These moments of hope turn from specks to floods if you keep walking into the fire of recovery.
To people reading this who have an eating disorder:
You are the strongest, most beautiful people I have ever met.
You have done such hard things.
You wake up each day to fight what left you tired the night before.
Keep going. One day you will feel golden.
Francesca's Great North Run
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We are Han United, and we chose to take part in the Beat 1-2-5 Challenge in memory of our daughter, sister and friend Hannah.
It’s been two years since I took my first step to recovery. Anorexia nervosa, two words that defined me...
I had to create a vision board showing things that I wanted to be able to do when I was stronger. I wanted to run.