I guess there was also something symbolic in that, whilst I focused on the fear of my body changing, there was probably a connected, subconscious fear of having to grow up and face the wide world. Having anorexia meant people would look after me, as I looked, felt and behaved like a child, and I was terrified that they would stop looking after me if I recovered. That is one of the reasons I got stuck in a rut for years, terrified of getting better. But actually, I realise now that what I actually liked was people caring for me - which they are required to do when you’re ill - and back then I should have believed (although the ‘voice’ of the illness was constantly telling me otherwise) that people would still care for me and love me without anorexia, and in fact they would be a lot happier in my company when they were there voluntarily, just because they wanted to be with me, than when they were forced to be there because I was ill. From the other side of the illness, I know that that is definitely true.
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