Dear Mum,

I’d like to say that I’m sorry for putting you through this, for everything that I’ve done. I know that you’re sitting here right beside me, hoping that my body won’t give up, praying that you won’t lose your only daughter, and I would love to tell you that you won’t, but I, myself know that the chances of that are slim to none. I know that you can see every bone in my body and that it disgusts you, and I know that it makes you angry that I would put myself through this, but I enjoyed every minute of it. Now that I’m lying here, in a hospital bed, knocking on death’s door, I’d like to tell you that I love you and that it’s not my fault.

Ever since I could remember there’s been a voice in my head telling me to stop, telling me to not take another bite, and ever since I can remember I’ve ignored that voice, I’ve told it to go away. Every step I would take, it would tell me to take one hundred more, yet every bite I would take it would tell me to stop. It would tell me I’m getting fat. It would nag and pester, scream and yell until I had to stop. You don’t understand how strong I was, I was so strong for so many years. Every day I would go to bed with a headache and wake up with a headache. It was an ongoing nightmare, but I still carried on.

Then on May 17th 2016, I gave up. All of the walls I built, all of the strength I showed, it all came tumbling down; fast and hard. I stopped eating. I exercised everyday. When I did eat I vomited it up. Every morning I would weigh myself.  My weight was dropping dramatically. Soon there was nothing of me left.

The voice would never stop, but one day it did; for a split second it stopped. I looked in the mirror and all of that fat that I saw everyday was gone. I ran my fingers over my rib cage. All I could see was bones and all I could feel was bones. For a split second I looked too skinny, and for a spilt second I looked sick. I was sick. Then I blinked and when I opened my eyes, that small, sick girl was gone and a giant whale of fat was standing in front of me. I was fat again.

Even though I only saw fat from that day on, that image of that extremely skinny girl never left my mind. I had reached my target weight; 28kg, but I still didn’t stop, I still wanted to go less. I was 13 years old and 28kg. So on July 13th 2016 I admitted myself to the hospital and told them not to call you. I told you I was going on school camp, I told the school that I couldn’t go on the camp because I was going on holiday. I was there for a week, but I couldn’t do it anymore, so I left.

I continued to not eat, I continued to exercise more than I should. What I was doing wasn’t right for my health, so one day I collapsed in class. I went to the hospital and they diagnosed me with anorexia nervosa. Then after one week in the hospital on a glucose drip, I collapsed again, but this time I didn’t wake up.

I am still currently in a coma; it’s been like that for five days. So, I know that I’m about to die, but I wanted to ask you to not give up on me, even though I’m giving up on myself. I love you Mum and I promise that you will see me again, maybe it’s not here, but I will see you again. I miss you, Dad, Oliver and Buddy and I love all of you, so very, very much.

Love forever,

Harper xox