Dear Mummy and Daddy,
Thank you for never giving up on me. I don’t think I would’ve been able to get this far in my recovery from anorexia, without both of you by my side.
You still love me even after everything I’ve put you both through – all the tears, fights, the lies I told to your faces and all the stress. Sometimes I wonder what I did to continue to still deserve your love.
But if there’s one thing I’ve been meaning to tell you both, it’s that…no matter how hard you try, you’ll never understand anorexia unless you’ve gone through it yourself. I know you’ve both been trying your very best to understand it – all the articles you’ve been reading on the internet, all the documentaries you watched. I see the effort you both put in to understand. Mummy, Daddy, it’s okay to stop trying. It’s okay.
If you’ve never gone to bed wishing the malnutrition from anorexia would kill you, you will never understand. If the empty feeling inside you has never felt like an accomplishment, you’ll never understand. If you’ve never felt that fear around food…then you’ll never understand.
I know how hard you’ve both tried – I saw you both stay strong when in reality, you were falling apart on the inside. I saw the helplessness in your eyes when no doctors were willing to take me on. I saw the pain in your eyes whenever you watched your first born daughter breakdown at each meal – accusing you for portioning out ‘too much food’ and trying to harm her.
My recovery was just as hard for me as it was for you both.
Mummy, Daddy, here’s one thing I want you to know. Despite all the efforts you’ve put in to understanding anorexia…at the end of the day, I am so so so glad you’ve both never come to understand it fully.
Because going through anorexia (or any eating disorder) is something I never want anybody to have to experience. I thank God every day that both of you have never felt that “urge” for control that’ll eventually take over your life. Or felt like the most useless human in the world. I’m glad you’ve never had the feeling of wanting to die – knowing that your organs will start to fail sooner or later, yet tricking your malnourished mind that you’re still in control. I’m glad you’ve both never had to experience the anxiety that comes from a starved brain…a brain that fails to function…or to think rationally.
Thank God you both never ever have to understand.
Through my recovery you’ve both never failed to remind me of the girl I once was – never was there a day when you thought that I would not return to being the daughter you once knew. You both held my hand and walked with me through my recovery. Helping me up whenever I fell; just like when I was a little girl.
Every time I felt remnants of my old self return to me again, it became a victory for all of us. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget the looks of joy on your faces when I finished my first ever bowl of cereal and full cream (gasp) milk.
Mummy, Daddy – you’re both my rocks, my pillars of strength, my angels. Anorexia tried to kill me. But because you both never gave up on me, we can now look forward to creating many more amazing memories together as a family, rather than annual visits to a cemetery (sounds harsh doesn’t it…but that would’ve been the reality if anorexia had won.)
One day I’ll find the best way of thanking you both. It’s through you both that I can truly see the meaning of unconditional love. God shows unconditional love to his children, and you’ve both shown unconditional love to me despite my anorexia.
I love you Mummy and Daddy. Never forget that. I’ll continue to fight anorexia, to fight and return to being the daughter you once knew.
Let’s look towards the future together – the three of us, Stanley, and Melody. A brighter future full of memories and joy. I’ll make you both proud one day, I promise.