Six years ago, aged 17, I was admitted to a mental health adolescent ward with anorexia. I spent a year living in hospital, fighting my eating disorder. It was by far the hardest year of my life, but without it I would not be here anymore. It was hard work, and every meal was a battle. I would sit there: a plate of food placed in front of me, and be told I had 30 minutes to eat it. With tears streaming down my face I felt completely lost at the thought of eating, but after the first few meals, things did get easier. I began to concentrate on what I wanted from life; a family, to travel; university; when I had bad days I would concentrate on this