I FEEL like I’m coming home from a really long trip abroad… re-acquainting with my loved ones and trying to remember bits and pieces of my whirlwind journey.
Except much of the last year I don’t want to remember.
You see, it wasn’t a journey of my choice to a destination I fancied.
My trip was of a sinister nature, to a dark place I wouldn’t wish upon anyone.
It was to a place that accommodated me for an extended stay exactly 20 years ago.
A place I vowed to never visit again.
A place no-one, surely, wants to reside or even visit on a casual basis.
But, it seems, that once you get there – if all of the signposts align to send you that way – you sometimes find yourself stuck and unable to find your way home.
That’s the reality for approximately nine per cent of the Australian population, and that was my reality for the most part of 2017.
It’s a place called Anorexia Nervosa.