I never thought I was “sick enough” to deserve help. Others have it worse, they always do. But little did I know how much help I needed until I finally got it.

I went to NZEDC for a little over a year. My experience with Anorexia Nervosa is an individual story – as all of us experience life through different lenses. At 23 years old I can look back and see how far I have come, and honestly it still baffles me because when I arrived at the Clinic, I believed I was a lost cause.

Anorexia introduced itself to me when I was around 15 years old as I started to develop anxiety and severe self-loathing. It snuck in through the back door, quietly and gently. It fed on my low self-esteem and fear of being unwanted.

I’ve never been a person to focus on trends, social standards, or appearances. I never felt encouraged by female beauty standards – and had the common misconception that eating disorders belong with shallow, trendy high-school girls. That all changed when I had a breakdown in front of a mirror after 2 years as the realisation hit me – I had an eating disorder. However, today I would describe EDs (mainly anorexia) as an addictive abusive relationship. Almost a separate entity who would destroy me from the inside out, growing stronger as I grew weaker. But even if I knew I was sinking further, I was still too scared to fix the problem because I was comfortable with the pain. Tragically, the thought of a slow and painful death was in fact comforting.

Being constantly afraid of being a burden and a waste of space, I didn’t ask for help in fear that someone else would deserve it and need it more. I did not open-up about my issues to my family until a few years down the line. People noticed how sickly I looked, I blamed it on stress and anxiety over school. I struggled with suicidal thoughts – though I didn’t want to die. I just wanted to disappear instead and wished I could erase my existence from people’s memories. This was my lowest point and at the time I was ready to accept my fate.

After almost 5 years, I gathered the courage to tell my parents and the search to look for help and therapy began. Due to my parents being divorced, my mum witnessed me at the early stage of therapy where I had a lot of trust issues and felt like it was a waste of time and money. While of course I didn’t want to be in so much torture anymore, I also had a very hard time letting go of the “relationship” I had with this disorder.

Eventually, I met a therapist at NZEDC. It may sound a bit silly, but getting a diagnosis is incredibly relieving since it verified that I wasn’t just making this up and I finally felt comfortable with getting the help I needed. I finally felt that I deserved to be heard and to express how I really feel.

For the other half of my therapy, my dad watched me slowly regain my mental and physical strength to be able to fight back. There are of course lows that come and go, even still to this day. One day I could feel like I was finally able to enjoy life while the next, I’d be back to the same destructive thoughts since this whole thing began. It’s a game of patience. Celebrating the small progresses as well as the larger ones.

But even though I’d have support from the clinic, my parents and friends to make it through, it is still only myself that can get me on the path to recovery. It was hard. It was exhausting. But the battles started getting quieter and the voice who told me I was pathetic eventually muffled.

With the fog lifted, I can finally see clearly and live. This eating disorder ruined most of my teenage years, isolated me and turned me into a husk of who I really am inside. I’m taking those moments and opportunities back while also moving forward. I do not let this disorder define who I am. It is NOT me. It is not welcome here.

Like I said before, it’s not until now at the end of things when I look back and see how much progress I was able to make. A year ago, I was very certain the recovery would take years, cringed at the mention of gaining weight – undoing all my “hard work” and still doubting therapy would be of any help. I was sceptical until I was reminded that I have a right to exist and share my experience. I have strength inside me I never knew I had.

In the long run of things, I’m still dealing with anxiety and still experience dark moments of doubt, self-criticism, and low self-esteem. However, it’s starting to finally sink in-

That I AM enough.