Being sectioned was the worst experience of my life. Being taken away from my home, from my family, it was awful. Not being able to run, it nearly broke me. It’s something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. I felt so powerless and utterley consumed by my eating disorder. I didn’t see a point in continuing with my life when it felt like everything I loved had been taken away from me.
I remember sitting on my bed in general hospital, surrounded by sick people in the beds next to me, and I just wanted to run away, but I couldn’t. I had someone sat watching me 24/7. I couldn’t even walk to the toilet by myself. I had people rushing to me in the middle of the night, hooking me up to drips and sticking needles in me. I watched a lovely old lady, Sylvia, in the bed next to me deteriate before she sadly passed away. I remember her son speaking to me as she was dying, telling me that his Mum wanted to live, but she couldn’t. But I had a choice. I had a choice to choose recovery and choose life. She didn’t.
Fastforward 3 weeks to when I was medically stable and a bed in an inpatient unit was available, and I was on my way to a specialist eating disorders hospital, sat in the back of an Ambulance, again, with someone watching my every move. When I arrived, I was so scared. I just wanted to hide away in my room, but I wasn’t allowed. If I was in my room for more than 5 minutes someone would come and take me into the lounge (the communal area where all the patients are expected to go outside of meal times.) I was on supervised bathroom, and I still felt so powerless and controlled by my illness.
I can remember how completley empty I felt on my first night in the inpatient unit. My parents had gone home and I felt so, so, so alone, and so frightened.
The days in there did get easier though. I built up relationships with all of the incredible staff and I made some amazing friends. After 3 months, my section was lifted and I was granted home leave. My life started to feel a lot better. And fastforward to now, I am finally content, happy even, with my life. I’ve been home for just over 6 weeks. I feel like a completley different person compared to how I was, and who I was, back in July when I was sectioned. My life has changed so much. I have rediscovered myself, and I have used my struggle to bring forward my strength, inspiring other people through my blog, my Instagram account and my newly released recovery journal. If I hadn’t gone through what I went through, I wouldn’t be in the position I am in now, able to understand exactly how this illness feels, able to help others. I am going back to the inpatient unit where I was literally ‘brought back to life’ on Wednesday to help with the creation of a short film aimed at raising awareness of eating disorders, encouraging people to seek help regardless of what stage they are at in their recovery, and ‘myth-busting.’ It feels so good to be able to help other people, and even though this whole journey has been incredibly tough, it has made me into the person I am today, and if I could go back, I don’t think I would’ve changed it since ‘we grow through what we go through.’ If this blog helps just one person, it will have made my struggle worthwhile.
Take care of yourselves,