; Two Happy Faces. Between? There Was No Doubt About What I Was. I Thought: 'Yes. Bulimic.' [Eire Region]
Mail on Sunday › October 30, 2011
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Summary
THE bell rang and I opened the door to see a group of my friends at the porch. 'We're here to talk to you,' they said. 'If we don't intervene now, we're scared of what's going to happen. Leanne, you have a problem and we need to talk about it.'
The conversation that erupted was the scariest and most overwhelming of my entire life. In the thick of it, my friends went on to claim that I had lost a great deal of weight and was, in their opinion at least, emaciated. They told me I was sick and that I needed help. They said that I wasn't myself anymore; that not only did I look different, but that my sickness had changed me as a person too. I wasn't the friend most of them had met so many years ago.See the full content of this document
Extract
; Two Happy Faces. Between? There Was No Doubt About What I Was. I Thought: 'Yes. Bulimic.' [Eire Region]
Some of them welled up as they talked about how they couldn't watch their friend starve and vomit her way into a hospital bed or, worse, into the grave. I saw the pain in their eyes and heard the exhaustion in their words. It was the first time I ever realised how far down into my own darkness I had brought them.
I was scared, cornered and under a wave of guilt for what I had done and ...See the full content of this document
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