[MUSIC PLAYING] I grew up in a house that was very focused on weight, and I always thought, if I was slim, regardless of anything, I'd be OK. I have ADHD, and I suffered from bulimia for years. I'm not sure what came first. I was quite a happy child. I loved singing, dancing, sports. When I was 10, I changed schools and a lot happened. And suddenly, I didn't seem to be very good at anything. I was getting G's in sports. I was just not excelling in anything that used to bring me joy. I did a lot of dancing. And I remember just overnight, it happened. I was looking in the mirror and we were all in leotards, and all I could think of was, I'm so fat. I remember thinking, if I were a T-shirt, that would be OK because then I didn't have to look at myself. And so I wore a T-shirt to my dance class, and my teacher made me take it off. And I remember just being terribly nervous because I also had to do our rehearsal for our show and I had a solo. So I had to do my solo in front of the class, and I loved it. But it's the feeling of afterwards of now everyone will see me and I couldn't cope with that. When I was 14, I was doing so much. I was playing hockey and golf for Scotland. I was still dancing, I was doing pantomimes and musical theatre, so I was throwing myself at everything. There was no need for me to be thinking about dieting. What I realised was doing all these things at such a high level, it didn't matter, because if I wasn't slim, it made no difference. I had to be slim. It didn't matter how much success I had at hockey, at golf, at music, at anything. I was still failing because I wasn't slim. I started cutting myself before my bulimia came. They were superficial cuts, but they helped numb my pain. I wasn't doing the cutting for attention. I hid them really well. In fact, I don't think anyone knew. Apart from my friend who asked me what they were on my arm and I just went out, I don't know. My friends got a kitten. It's going crazy. And that was when I realised that I could lie, hide. And I changed to bulimia, which was another secret. I was on a hockey tour to Ireland, and I have a photograph of me eating a chocolate muffin. Five minutes later, I made myself sick for the first time. I enjoyed being looked after. For those three or four days, I had people checking in on me. Are you OK, Suse? Are you feeling OK? And it was the first time I felt actually looked after. The bonus of that as well I was losing weight. I didn't know this, but my mum had noticed my significant weight loss and had been on the phone to helplines. And when she was on the phone, she was asked what my weight was and I wasn't light enough to get help. Fortunately, she was able to afford to take me privately to the Priory Clinic in Glasgow, where I went to see a psychiatrist. And I was in complete denial at this stage because I was slim, so I was succeeding. And walked a lady. And the head space I was in, she was very overweight. And I was thinking, there is no way I'm taking advice from you because I'm trying to get away from that, which I realise now is absolutely ridiculous. And it's not healthy, but that was where my mind was. So anything she was saying, it wasn't going to help. And she wanted me to come in. She wanted me to follow a meal plan. She had diagnosed me. And we decided, no, I wasn't going to do that because I'd miss everything that I was doing. I was still playing hockey for Scotland, I was still doing my shows and all that. And two years later, I tried to take my life. Maybe I would have taken advice from someone that was slim, thinner, but I chose to not. And as a consequence, I was losing my hair, my periods. My skin was awful, my teeth. Everything about me was deteriorating. I don't know if going in was the right thing to do. Maybe not. But it might have stopped me trying to take my life. It took years. I went to a therapist that had been bulimic herself, which was extremely helpful, and she introduced me to Overeaters Anonymous. And had me go to multiple meetings a day, along with therapy, and not leave till I heard a similar story of my own, which I did. And that kept me coming back and back and knowing that I wasn't so special in my illness as such. And being able to talk, and laugh, and cry, and relate to other people that share the same crazy head or not so crazy head and similar experiences is actually what heals. Even today, talking about it as someone in recovery, it always helps me to hear the newcomer to remind me of what it was like. I think when I look back growing up, I was in a household that was always talking about diets. There would be slimming magazines or magazines with weight loss. Celebrities that have gained weight use comments like the camera adds 10 pounds or she's got a figure to die for. And I think we have to be more aware of what's coming out our mouths. And that's personal responsibility. I think if a child, which I was is an extreme denial to maybe go yourself and find out what you can do to make the environment different, because I definitely didn't have anyone I could talk to. I felt like I would be shouted at. I didn't feel safe to talk. So I think if you're able to talk to someone and think how can I create an environment that's not focused on food or weight and it's love and its connection. I think that's a massive part. You can't control what's going to happen, but you can create a safe space. I actually truly believe that. [MUSIC PLAYING]