People stare at my match-stick legs and whisper; its hard not to notice. My body shows the signs but my hearing works fine – I catch the cruel names they use (which makes me hide at home feeling worse than before)
Growing up in a well-off Jewish family in Hertfordshire with my parents siblings and twin-brother‚ life seemed normal. However at uni everything changed: my weight dropped dangerously low and my tutor contacted my worried parents who rushed me to get help. During the height of heroin-chic fashion I was sent to a private hospital where doctors said Iʼd never have kids
The next twenty years became a blur of self-destruction – I worked in tv production where party-culture helped hide my eating problems. Claire (thats me) always had multiple drinks lined up: gin-tonics shots and water. Exercise was still my daily must-do activity; cocaine and ecstasy became weekend companions
- Meeting dealers in dark corners
- Withdrawing cash while barely conscious
- Hosting random strangers at home
- Waking up with unexplained injuries
After hitting rock-bottom around 11 years ago I went to a fancy Thai rehab center: got clean from drugs but my eating disorder just got stronger. Since then Ive been in-and-out of hospitals four times; nothing seems to work. My body shows signs of giving up – bulging veins weird water bubbles and lost teeth from stomach acid
These days sitting in coffee shops hurts cause theres no padding left on my body. Jewish family dinners are awkward but we use humor to cope. When waiters take my tiny order I joke: “do I look like someone who eats much?“ Dating seems impossible now – who would want to be close to this body
Dont end up like me And if you see people who look like me on the street try not to judge them I am more than what you see