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I don’t believe that there is a ‘standard’ case of any ED, but I think that the story of my anorexia is probably one that others may find familiar. I was slightly overweight during the early years of secondary school, and was duly given the label of ‘fat’ that then remained attached to me right on through to the end of my A-Levels. I was determined to make a fresh start at university, with any outcome better in my mind than being pigeonholed as overweight. For the first time, I was away from my caring family and the meals we ate together every night, and had complete control over what I consumed. I knew that with my willpower I could maintain a strict diet, and that’s exactly what I did.

Things went even better than I'd expected: people were even saying how slim I looked, which made me feel fantastic. The problem was that I could still only see a fat person looking back at me in the mirror, and I was really scared that if I stopped dieting I would pile more weight on. I gradually reduced my food intake further, and began incessantly checking the fat content of everything I ate. I still felt healthy and kept up my active Oxford lifestyle of work, sport and socializing, and – most importantly – I felt entirely in control; as it was my decision to be on a diet, I believed that I could stop at any moment. Besides, to me it was all just a game to become a fitter person; I thought that it was doing my body a favour to get rid of the fat, and it never crossed my mind that I would go too far. Having studied eating disorders for my degree, I was confident that I could spot and avoid any danger.

But then there came the time for me to stop the dieting – and I couldn’t. Everything happened at about the same time: my friends and family felt that I was getting too thin, and my gradually-decreasing food intake crept low enough to trigger substantial mood swings; I realised that my weight had dropped to below the diagnostic level for anorexia; and a check-up with my Oxford GP revealed that I still viewed myself as being too fat. With hindsight, it was this last point that proved my downfall; seeing myself as fat meant that I thought I was a long way from being anorexic. When I tried to eat normally again, I found that I was too ‘addicted’ to my dieting – I enjoyed the satisfaction of successful restriction and was too terrified of putting on weight to increase my food intake. All this time I had maintained that I could simply revert back to usual eating, but when it came down to it this wasn’t the case. I knew then that I was in trouble.

My GP referred me to the University Counselling Service, whose staff was absolutely fantastic throughout everything. I told my closest college friends, and they were wonderful at keeping an eye on me. It wasn’t easy to reveal this side of myself to my mates, chiefly because it felt like an admission of failure: why was I the ‘weak’ one with the illness? I told my female friends first (one at a time, over a period of several days), and let them explain to the guys; I just felt that the girls would be able to better appreciate where I was coming from, my desperation to be thin enough to look good in fashionable clothes and so on. I broached the topic by explaining that I'd started going to counselling, and took things very gradually from there. Somehow this angle was much easier than just jumping straight in with “I've got anorexia”, and I think it gave my friends a chance to come to terms with what I was revealing. I suppose I was most scared of them being angry or ashamed of me, but if any of them were, they certainly didn’t show it. Instead they each found their niche in terms of providing support: one was a shoulder to cry on, another made sure I’d eaten sensibly. However, it still took a long time to even begin to sort myself out. Despite recognizing that I was dieting when I shouldn’t have been, and feeling the resultant mood instability, I couldn’t immediately understand that I was seeing myself as fat when I wasn’t (body dysmorphia) and that I wouldn’t put loads of weight back on if I ate sensibly again. The road to making myself well again was very long and definitely winding.

During my recovery process, the OUSU-supported group Enough! came to my attention – a fortnightly meeting for anyone who has suffered from disordered eating. The group gives people a chance to share their stories, chat about their feelings and generally bitch about those eating-related things that wind them up! I went along feeling rather nervous and having little clue what the atmosphere would be like. However, it was instantly welcoming, and it was such a relief to discover that there were other students in Oxford who were going or had been through similar kinds of experiences as myself. This mutual understanding encouraged me to open up in a way that I hadn’t felt comfortable to do before. Attending Enough! was a significant part of this step for me, and I found the collective support from those who could truly empathize was invaluable.

I would say that the major factor in my turnaround was taking my Finals. I might have been unable to recognize my true body-size, or accept that I didn’t need to diet any more, but even I couldn’t deny the tangible and destructive effect that food restriction had on my mental performance. Starvation dieting made me tired, wreaked havoc on my emotional stability, and prevented me from thinking about anything other than food and my weight. I knew that there was no way that I could obtain the First that I so desired without sorting all of this out.

It was with this mentality of wanting to be ‘cured’ that I re-approached my counsellor at the beginning of my final term at Oxford. Understandably, she was delighted with this new determination to address the disorder, and presented my situation as a half-finished science experiment. I had successfully proved that not eating made me lose weight, but I had never tested whether eating sensibly would see me pile all of the fat back on (which I was convinced of) or merely maintain my present weight whilst avoiding the harmful effects of over-restriction. With no other option open to me if I wanted that First, I embarked on the second half of the ‘investigation’: I ate five times a day (three meals and two snacks) and got the college nurse to weigh me at regular intervals.

None of that was easy: in the first few days I had to really force myself to keep eating regularly because the concept was so alien to me. I stumbled a couple of times, but persisted for the sake of my degree. After a week of adhering to the new routine, the whole thing felt like an utter revelation. All of the food I was now eating gave me loads of energy – which I hadn't enjoyed for such a long period of time – and made me a much happier person. I no longer had alarming mood swings, and my mind was free to concentrate on my studies. On top of this, with my natural positivity restored, I began to feel good about who I was and how I looked. One day I even woke up and thought “I don’t need to lose any more weight.” I cannot tell you how impossible that situation appeared to me only a couple of months earlier. And to complete the turnaround, my weighing sessions revealed that I was eating all of this extra food without putting on even an ounce of weight: it was simple being accommodated by my active body.

I know that reading this almost miraculous story will evoke feelings of scepticism, and probably send a few bullshit-alarms whirling. And let me assure you, it felt rather too good to be true when I was first doing it. But it worked for me, and after my Finals finished, I saw no reason to go back to the disordered eating. Sure, I still don't ever want to be fat, or even approaching fat, but I now understand that I can eat sensibly and safely, and still not put on any extra weight. Not exactly rocket science, but still a massive step for me to take.