Someone recently asked me what the lowest point of my eating disorder was. What was the final straw that made you change? I immediately knew what it was and was catapulted back to that moment. And now I'm going to share it with you.

I already talked in some detail about this here, but I think that a lot of people who are currently struggling with an eating disorder may find some comfort and hopefully inspiration in this part of the story.

At the time, I was doing an internship as a service staff in a hotel in London. I had just moved there three months ago, and even though I enjoyed discovering this new city, I absolutely hated my job.

Putting a compulsive eater into an environment where you are surrounded by readily available food 24/7 and get to secretly eat the leftover pralines at the end of the night is like putting an alcoholic into a bottle shop.

I dreaded going to work every morning and more often than not, would spontaneously call in sick because I just couldn't deal with the food confrontation. I would wake up every morning, promising myself that today would be different. Today would be the day where willpower would succeed and I wouldn't even dare to look at all the tempting food around me at work. I'd have a tiny little breakfast, like 1/2 a kiwi, and hope that it would sustain me throughout the day (it's so crazy when I think back to that now!)  Sometimes I managed to actually not eat anything for the entire shift, but on most days my willpower would eventually fail me and I would eat one praline, then two, then tree and so on. By the end of the shift I would feel so guilty about failing yet again that all I wanted to do was go home and eat some more. I lived on a busy main road in West London, and on my walk home from work I passed an endless amount of fast food restaurants that were open until late at night. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how that story ends...