That’s it. That’s it. My hair is stuck to my cheeks with tears. A whole part of me has finished. A feeling of heady liberation and utter redundancy. Speech night: over. School: over. My speech as head prefect to two thousand parents and girls and teachers: over. To all those who failed to support me, who told me to just give up and drop out of school to save myself the effort, who cared more about asking me to “pull up my socks” than how I was, as I stumbled, bone-thin and gray, down school corridors… this speech was as much for them as it was for anyone else.

…Never, never, never give up. [I mentioned that this concept holds a searing personal significance.] I battled anorexia for much of this year. And if there is anything that I have learnt from that nightmare, it is to never give up. To struggle on despite obstacles. To implicitly believe in your own ability. To pay no heed to the people or mental barriers around that who would trip you up. To carry on. Girls, you can do whatever you put your mind to. I’m a living, breathing example of that. With a bit of determination, faith, and inner-conviction, you will make it wherever you want to go. Never doubt yourself. Reach for the highest stars possible. Yes, it’s a struggle, I won’t deny that. But nothing worth having comes without a struggle. History itself teaches us that! I look around tonight and look at you…and I see our future. Our future engineers, lawyers, sportswomen, politicians, teachers, mothers, gastroenterologists … you girls are sparkling with talent. We also lost one of our own wonderful girls earlier this year. But, I know in my heart, that we have made her proud. Despite the overwhelming grief and anger, we fought on. In the face of such senseless tragedy, we battled on and banded together. We struggled at times, but … we made it. We never gave up. It is also easy to grow disillusioned with the world we live in and the humanity of which we are a part. But we mustn’t. This year, we have faced natural and man-made disasters in the form of a devastating tsunami, earthquakes, hurricanes, bombings, and war. Our faith and that of others may have been battered, our resilience tested, but humanity’s determination and will have prevailed. Hope still glistens despite the darkness. And while there is determination, there is hope. Never give up. Never forfeit your dreams. Don’t be disillusioned by failure or disappointment—they can only ever be temporary. Struggle on and strain further for that star. And it is this message that epitomizes our school’s legacy. To carry on in the face of adversity, whether personal, professional, or social, is one of the most powerful lessons we can learn and one of the most powerful messages we can give. Thomas Carlyle said that “the block of granite, which was an obstacle in the path of the weak, becomes a stepping stone in the path of the strong.” My block of granite hasn’t quite become my stepping stone. But I’m almost there. And I’m not giving up. There is another quote I always turn to when I’m feeling discouraged: “Strength doesn’t always roar, sometimes strength is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, ‘I will try again tomorrow and never, ever, ever give up.’”

I turned. I felt a collective hum wash over the hall. I took my books and walked down the stairs. All I can remember seeing were my black school shoes, polished, against the parquet floor and thinking whether or not carrying my books like-so would make my arms look thinner, so people didn’t turn to each other with raised eyebrows and mumble, “Well, she doesn’t look anorexic.” So I could maintain some
smattering of credibility. I didn’t hear the applause, didn’t see the girls standing, could not discern one face from the anonymous swirl. I just felt shuttered and choked back tears in the bright lights.

But now, I feel … clear. I am absolutely, entirely, head-splittingly knackered. But it’s all over. I cleared the air and finally told them all.

The whole past year feels like a nightmarish sequence of episodes seemingly disconnected … yet so closely aligned. A nightmare-behind-glass.

Low. Gray. Down. I’ve been crying ever since I came home. I just want to be frail, fragile, breakable. Bones perfected. Sometimes I just wish I had no family or ambition or brain or pride, so I could go back to anorexia with no regrets and no return. Tonight has really affected me. I’m over this “life.” I almost couldn’t care.

Excerpt from Biting Anorexia