Today marks the three year anniversary of when I was admitted as an inpatient. My whole life changed.
It wasn't just about starting recovery and the eating disorder, while of course this played a huge part in it. It marks so many changes; when my sister and I estranged from our family, when I moved out of my family home and became independent, where we acknowledged and learnt so much about ourselves.
A lot happened after I was admitted into hospital and like many other people many aspects of my life changed.
I still remember a lot about that day. I remember what I was wearing, what I ate, how I felt, the weather.
I remember the cab journey to the hospital, where I had to sit in the front of the car because the nice cab driver said the backseat was very cold. It had been snowing and the floor was covered in a thick layer of snow and ice.
I remember being escorted to my room where I was searched and in my innoncence of the system was completely open and wouldn't have even thought to hide anything in my bags.
I remember eating the veg stew followed by lemon cake and custard.
I remember being weighed right after my lunch and for this reason weighing a kilo heavier, which made my bmi slighter high which haunted me as this was what was recorded on all my forms.
I remember being given milk and repeatedly stabbed for blood, where I was so emicated the doctor couldn't draw blood from me.
I remember walking round my room after dinner for 30 minutes while Eastenders played in the background, while I tried to burn calories, and wondered why I felt so exhausted.
I remember the other patients saying hello and being horrified about how thin they all were.
I remember my sister coming to see me and the nurses laughing about how much stuff I had brought with me. I smiled shyly and said this was actually the second load and I had brought a lot already, I was never one to pack light.
I remember feeling numb and so far removed, telling my sister I didn't understand why I was here when the day before I had been so clear about needing the help and coming in.
I remember my sister taking off her Tiffany necklate and putting it around my neck saying she was always close to me. I still wear that necklace and never take it off.
I remember one of the elderly patients screaming about custard, who in the end I became so fond of.
I remember lying in the stiff sheets and not really understanding what was happening.
Tomorrow I am being assessed for the day patient unit, almost three years on...what am I doing with my life?