Living with anorexia


Being ill has meant leaving my life behind.  I’ve left my flat, my job, my friends.  I’m back in my hometown.  I haven’t lived here for six years.  The friends I grew up with have left.

Mental illness has caused me to lose friends before.  My friends from university no longer speak to me.  They are justified.  I treated them badly.  None of us knew at the time that I was in the depths of mental despair.  They bore the brunt of it.

School friends don’t invite me to get-togethers.

Current friends are a long way away, living their lives without me.

I live in the same house as my sister.  But she lives her life.  Full of work, and fun, and friends, and her boyfriend.  It’s Saturday night.  She goes out.  I have nowhere to go.  No-one to go out with.  So I stay at home.

I don’t mean to sound so down, so depressed.  But it’s hard sometimes.  I’m in my mid twenties.  A time we are constantly told is the best time of our lives.  And yet I hate it.  I have no friends.  I don’t know when I last socialised with someone that was not my parents or my sister.  Why don’t I have friends?

Does no one like me?  Is it my anorexia-riddled brain telling me lies?  Am I just doomed to forever be a disaster?



2 thoughts on “Loneliness

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