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michael.williamson / / 2 Comments

This Fridays Blog has a Diffrent Mix,

as it will not consist of One long Blog Like our usual format.

As the Blog today has many flavors with diffrent contributors which we love a good mix at ‘All Walks’.

However we will spread the pieces throughout the day today…

From the essay Piece ‘ One Body, two minds… one struggle to be free.

which is a anonymous piece Sent into ‘All Walks’

on one young persons struggle with Anorexia and overcoming it each day Quite a inspirational piece.

Also Co founder Debra Bourne was at the Frieze Art Fair this week to follow later.

though more to come later on today so keep posted guys

M.W

One body, two minds…one struggle to be free.

“Everyone deserves to be happy”, the words I repeated daily to give myself that extra push I needed to allow today to be different, to be better than the one before, yet why was it so hard to believe it, or allow it to be true. The fight to be myself, get back to who I used to be before this thing took over my mind and body was becoming a larger battle as time went on. No matter how many methods I tried it felt like this was going to be it for me. Would I be stuck with such a horrible thing for the rest of my life, or was I going to believe I could overcome it, push myself no matter how difficult it felt and be a survivor, never letting it end with me giving in.

The day it began is not clear, for as long as I can remember my strive to be perfect never let it be okay to come second, to not win or get the highest, a seed to be the best at everything was planted in my head, and each day only grew more and more, life was becoming a competition itself and unfortunately I wasn’t allowed to sit this one out. A troubled childhood was not a problem for me, growing up I was given opportunities to do so many things, freedom of mind and the want to do my own thing was granted, my parents loved me and wanted only the best, so an underlying cause here was not the issue, something which I had to explain to a tearful and heartbroken mother in years to come. They were not to blame and nor where my two sisters. The middle child I was shielded, my eldest sister made the mistakes which I learned from and my younger was too care free to care. Like me, they were happy, and popular, yet although I had friends, looking back now, it’s almost as if I was holding back, putting up a barrier and shielding myself, too scared to let go in the fear of being hurt, embarrassed or let down.

After realisation now, I don’t think I ever let myself truly relax and to take things with a pinch of salt. I did have fun, but from too early on I took life too seriously, from silly exams I thought I had to get the highest in to being the best at school sports, or producing the best painting I could, things that reaped enjoyment for other children but which only seemed another chore for me. I was never one to confide in others when I was struggling or ask for their help, I should be able to cope alone, others do, don’t they? I loved being a shoulder to cry on for friends, giving loving advice and making them smile but for me, revealing my troubles was a sign of weakness, asking for help was admitting something was wrong and for once not everything was perfect.

Learning to keep things a secret was a trait that sadly only made me capable of hiding this thing inside me. Calling it another person I cannot, because to me no other human being should make you feel so much hatred against yourself or cause as much pain and tears as this has. No one person would make you find things to change every time you looked in the mirror, so much so that you no longer want to look like yourself, the wish to be a different person was mine, and every day I woke just waiting for it to be granted.

A move to a new city for university was an exciting, hopeful yet scary thing, I was leaving friends and family behind to follow my dream of being in the fashion industry full of glamour, fun and beauty and was taking a step to closer to making it a reality. Making friends in a new city and learning to live on my own was something I was excited about, but that my parents were secretly scared of. On my own, away from the watchful eyes of those around me I could take control. Trying to be the best at school seemed like a small hill in comparison to this large mountain I saw myself standing at the bottom of. For now I was in a new course surrounded by students who were just a as good if not better, in a city full of girls richer, prettier and somewhat happier, and as my instinct to strive to be the best kicked in, my freedom and happy nature deteriorated. For it was here that my battle truly began.

The happy spirit inside me who flourished to be creative with the imagination for so many possibilities, the girl who loved to meet new people and be sociable, to laugh with her girlfriends at the antics of the night before was what I left home with, but when I returned a year later, it was a struggle to find. As I discovered myself living on my own away from the family who loved me for me, I found myself battling to fight off the other voice in my head. Here, I was unshielded, an easier target and as each day went on, my power over my mind and body weakened and I began to fear how it would take over.

My first year at university was not what I had expected and unfortunately I had to deal with things that not many others would, the death of one of my close friends who I had come to live with for the first months of university was one, and which affected me in more ways than imagined. Her life was taken away so suddenly, and at the age of only 20 she passed away in her sleep leaving me and my flatmates wondering if there was something we could have done to prevent it. Left waiting for the cause of her death, by the time of her funeral we had come to accept that there was nothing we could have done, it was out of our control. To know that a life so special and precious can end so suddenly and seeing the upset it caused her loved ones made me think twice about carrying on letting meaningless things upset me and feel like they are the end of the world. This time though, it wasn’t just me, the voice in my head would not let me move on without it, and as much as I wanted to be happy and care free, I couldn’t. Left feeling weak for not being strong enough to do my own thing, but filled with guilt, disgust and hatred when I did, either way I could not win, a girl so used to not giving up and being the best was finding herself losing at everything she done.

Having never lost a friend before , after Ellen’s * death I wondered when it would be okay to laugh or smile again, or wonder if allowing myself to be happy meant that I had forgotten her. Waking up wondering whether today would be a good day or bad one was the norm. I struggled to act normal, and as my trips home revealed, struggled to look normal too. My family were left distraught and parents felt frustrated each time I returned home looking less and less like their daughter. They couldn’t understand what was going and as much I knew something wasn’t right, I didn’t want to admit it either, maybe it was the common thing for some girls to be like this, or so the voice in my head would have me believe. As I lied to my family, I was almost convincing myself of the lies. My weight loss was down to the gym I told them, when truth be told I had never set foot in the university gym as of yet. Getting away with the lies made it easier to carry on, but each time I flew back to Newcastle, my parents were left in fear and panic wondering whether the hug they just gave me would be a smaller grip next time round.

Hearing whispering remarks about how thin id got, hurtful comments such as she’s anorexic from family members, and with such words as skinny to be described as from class members was this really all that people seen me as, had the voice inside my head won her thinspiration battle and finally made me no more than a weight issue. People no longer seen the happy girl I was in photos or bubbly person that they had grown to know and love. Now was a girl to ashamed to look at herself in the mirror. Even at times when deep down knew she had gotten to thin didn’t know when enough was enough. After tearful phone calls from my sister, heartbreaking truths from my mum, and fall outs with my dad I couldn’t let it go on. I wanted to ask for help for so long, hinting to receive it, lying awake at night not able to sleep and in tears wondering when I would pick up the courage to ask for it. But in those times, even when I wanted to there was always that other side thinking I was being silly, that I didn’t have a problem and that the way I was living my life was okay. That was the part I had needed to fight off, that was the battle I had grown to live with for so long.

. As I grew closer to the end of my first year at university I found myself pushing away the friends I had made. I feared returning to second year with the feeling like I was no fun, boring, that the other voice in my life had taken away my spirit and left a shallow emptiness behind. My battle to eat little left my mind taken over my thoughts of food, the challenge at how I could carry on at this low weight, the worry that enjoying in that little treat would suddenly change my appearance and strike panic next time I stepped on the scales. It was destroying me and my ability to enjoy life and as days went by, I was losing hope. I was shutting myself off, avoiding situations where food was involved, missing out on meals with friends and feeling too horrible in my appearance to enjoy nights out, and as badly as I wanted to, I just couldn’t. I couldn’t understand why they would want to be around me, why they carried on being my friends but as I came to realise it was because they were just that, my friends.

It was them who could see that I was struggling, that it wasn’t just me behaving in this way, that something else or someone else had power over my mind. And I am so grateful for this. For so long now that was all I had wished for, for someone to realise that it wasn’t just me, and I was fighting everyday with a voice more powerful than my own. It took just that one night that my friend reached out to make me have hope and change everything. Her noticing something was wrong and offering her help made me no longer feel I was doing it alone. That night changed everything. Waking up the next day, I had more hope than I had ever had before. Without openly admitting I had a problem, life had changed and for the first time in ages was looking optimistic.

From then on I made the decision to get professional help and started seeing a counsellor, being diagnosed as anorexia made me realise I did have a problem and that like many others who have moved on from it, I can beat it. I could have easily backed down and at times I wanted to, it seemed almost easier that way than having to constantly open up but my friends would not allow me, they drove me to keep going as things can only get better, it takes going through the bad things to appreciate the good things in life. I opened up to my family and from then on we have only gotten closer. I am not only getting better for myself, but for them too as I know I cannot cause them anymore hurt, enough is enough. The next time I returned home, my mum was filled with emotion, but this time it was the right one as a glimmer of hope replaced the previous worry.

As much as I would like to say it’s an easy journey and I can see the final hurdle, I can’t because there is days that I wake feeling rubbish and think that I’ll never get over it and my battle with anorexia will stay with me. I know that there is no miracle cure but with the love and support of my friends and family, I am fighting it, and cannot wait for the day where I can fully enjoy food. It may have had the power to take over my mind before but as each good day goes by I can feel it getting weaker. My strive to succeed and be the best is not going to work against me here, because this is one heart wrenching battle that I’m not going to lose. People say the power of the mind is an amazing thing, and I believe this is true, so with optimism, I can only look forward to the day when it is gone, a dream that is finally becoming a reality.

by anonymous supporter of All Walks Beyond the Catwalk.

for more information on eating disorders

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