For the first part of my story with an eating disorder, click here.

Fast forward half a year. I have now moved from Dubai to Switzerland and started uni there. Everything seems perfect on paper, but deep down I'm still struggling. In fact, I'm struggling more than ever. I am throwing up twice a day, the scale is my best friend and the mirror my worst nightmare. I know that food and negative body image are controlling every aspect of my life, but I feel too powerless to fight it.

During the first weeks of uni I met Phil, my boyfriend with whom I have been for almost five years now. Remember when I said that I was very sick yet functional at the same time? Well, I was so "functional" that I even managed to hide this side of me from the person closest to me. The shame of being locked into this lonely cycle of bizarre behaviour was driving me sheer crazy and I hated not being able to be honest to someone I cared about so much. I felt alone in a way that was terrifying and I felt like I was going to have obsessions and compulsions around food forever.

Every Monday morning I would promise to myself that this week would be better, but by that same evening all good intentions were out the window and I would give in to my drug of choice once again. Yet there were no empty alcohol bottles or used needles. The evidence of my dirty little secret was a pile of food wrappers around me.