How it all started....

Written September 2024:

I’ve always loved food—my nickname at work (amongst others) was even Takeaway Tom. But life threw some curveballs, and over time, things started to unravel. Work became my escape, but the pressure, politics, and stress built up. By late 2023, I was struggling. I took annual leave just to avoid working how I was feeling. I felt constantly drained and my self-confidence was at rock bottom.

So, I did what a lot of people do—I started a diet. At first, it felt great. The weight dropped, my clothes fit better, and I regained some confidence. But soon, my ‘target weight’ kept shifting lower, my weigh-ins became obsessive, and my exercise routine spiraled out of control. What started as a healthy change turned into something much darker.

By mid-2024, my routine was brutal—6+ mile walks before dawn, excessive workouts, calorie counting to the gram, and a constant mental battle over food. My body was breaking down. I was always cold, exhausted, and in pain, but stopping wasn’t an option in my mind. A trip to California—usually my happy place—made me realize just how much this had taken over. I couldn’t enjoy myself without guilt.

People had been telling me for months that I looked unwell, but I didn’t see it. It took hitting rock bottom (and some terrifying antidepressant side effects) to admit there was a serious problem. Getting help? Not easy. The NHS waiting lists are ridiculous—months just for an assessment, years for therapy. Thankfully, my family stepped in and got me private treatment, where I was diagnosed with atypical anorexia—a condition I never thought I’d have. Turns out, eating disorders aren’t just about food. They’re often a way of coping, just like alcohol or self-harm.

Right now, I weigh 40kg less than when I started, and I’m still in a daily battle. I’m trying to eat proper meals again, but my brain fights me every step of the way. The fear of gaining weight is real, and boredom makes it worse. Exercise has slowed down (partly due to injury), but if I could go back to my old routine tomorrow, I probably would.

Eating disorders in men aren’t talked about enough. The stigma is huge, and I’ve felt embarrassed for months. But the reality is, the line between ‘dieting’ and an eating disorder is razor-thin. And once you cross it, getting help is an uphill battle.

If I had to rely solely on the NHS, I honestly don’t know where I’d be right now. The system is broken, and it’s given me a whole new perspective on mental health struggles—both personally and professionally.

I don’t have all the answers, and I’m still figuring this out. But if my story helps even one person feel less alone, then maybe something good can come from all this.