I am home, it is Friday night, after a really long week. Dinner is in the oven and I am about to open a bottle of wine. I don’t have to visit the unit tonight. She is 80miles away, with her friend R and her family celebrating R’s 16th birthday. The only concession to anorexia is some snack bars in her bag. She is determined to break free of her routines and eat like her friends and not obsess over every mouthful. To pretend that everything is normal. In preparation, she challenged herself at breakfast and had pour out cereal and at lunch she chose chips and then hot pudding.
It might not work. She may eat nothing although that is unlikely, as she will want to please L and she knows R will worry. But even if she doesn’t, it is only 30 hours. She is back tomorrow night and coming home to us. And I sit here, exhausted after a long week, and need not go out in the rain to see her, or worry over the next snack she is due. I can relax, knowing she is safe and well and probably having a great time. It is as if every fibre of my body knows I have let go of her and can let go too. Time for wine. Have a great weekend all of you