Wasting away
Only one person could save me from myselfé Marissa Pendlebury, 24, from Warrington, Cheshire
The doctor’s words were blunt and said to shock.
‘If you carry on like this, you might not make it,’ he said.
I was 14. Just three months earlier, I’d been a normal teenager.
A&E
Something changed. I was so busy, I’d often forget to eat.
‘Have you lost weight?’ people asked.
I hadn’t intended to go on a diet. A healthy size and weight, I didn’t need to.
But, self-control over food became another thing I wanted to be the best at.
I also found that not eating numbed my emotions. When my stomach was growling, it took my mind off stressful things like school. I didn’t eat much more than a mouse would. And convinced my family I’d already eaten. I realised something was wrong when I went for routine blood tests and passed out. I was referred to a dietician, and started having heart palpitations. My mum and dad, Tony and Lisa, took me to A&E, and I was admitted as an inpatient.
Force-fed
Fighting back has been along journey My eating disorder was hardwired in my brain
I’d lost 3st in a short space of time. Now, 5ft 5in and weighing below 5st, I was dangerously
underweight.
I was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa, kept in hospital for the next three months.
But no-one seemed to understand that it wasn’t about the food so much as the emotions that not eating helped me cope with. At times, I’d end up being force-fed.
Mum and Dad blamed themselves, other relatives said I was attention seeking.
Only two people didn’t judge – my grandad Graham and grandma Marjorie.
They came to see me every day and treated me just the same as they always had.
Cycle
‘You’ll get better,’ Grandad told me over and over. ‘And maybe someday you’ll use this to help other people.’
It must have been hard for them to understand.
After all, our time together had revolved around food. I’d bake with Grandma, go for chips with Grandad.
When I was discharged from hospital, I wasn’t better.
My eating disorder was hard-wired in my brain.
My life became a cycle of being in and out of hospital.
Sometimes my weight dropped below 5st and I was re-admitted. I was skin and bone.
But even when the hospital I was in was 60 miles away, Grandad still visited.
He’d bring me snacks, laugh and joke with me like he’d always done.
It meant the world to me, and when I ate, I said I was ‘doing it for Grandad.’
At 18, I went on a cruise with Mum, Dad and my brother, Aaron, then 12.
I tried my best to enjoy myself. I even ate well.
Passed away
Grandad was in hospital with colitis when we got home. We didn’t think it was anything serious and went to see him. ‘Marissa’s doing so well,’ Dad told him and Grandad looked so happy. But the next day, Dad was giving me a lift home from college for lunch (mealtimes were supervised) when he got a phone call. It was serious, and he rushed to the hospital as soon as he’d dropped me off. ‘I don’t know how to tell you this,’ he said later on. ‘Your grandad’s passed away.’ I was devastated, numb. That night, we went to Grandad’s favourite garden centre, had a cuppa in his memory. I went into the conservatory and looked up at the stars. Suddenly, I felt a panic attack coming on, but I calmed down and went home.
A voice
In bed, thoughts span around in my head.
With Grandad gone, no-one was there for me.
Suddenly, a voice popped into my head. It was my internal voice, but not the critical one I was used to. You are worth more than what your eating disorder is…
These were Grandad’s words! He’d said this a lot.
They made me realise two important things. The only person who was going to pull myself out of this was me – and that I had to do it by loving myself. The other thing I realised was that Grandad’s love would always be with me. That was a huge turning point.
Never forget
I threw myself into my studies and got a degree in Health Sciences and nutrition followed by a masters in psychology. Just like Grandad said, I’m using my experiences to help other people. I’ve even written a book called Nourishing Routes, which is about developing a healthy relationship with food. I don’t weigh myself, but doctors tell me I now have a healthy BMI. Fighting back from anorexia has been a long journey that’s consumed my teenage and early adult life, but now I’m well, I’ll never forget the role my wonderful grandad had in my recovery. His love helped me learn to love myself.
Grandad’s love helped me learn to love myself