‘Now I have this thing called life’: How art, family and my dog helped me overcome anorexia

'My eating disorder began after a traumatic brain injury. I was 18 years old at the time. I was a jockey, and I fell off a racehorse.' Lorna Collins shares her struggle with the illness

'I use my art to express my most difficult issues and also to celebrate my passion for being well, being alive' (Oxford Health NHS Foundation Trust)

I never thought it was possible to get “better”. After spending 18 years trapped within a dark, repeating cycle of relapse and enforced hospitalisation, with acute episodes of anorexia, my new recovery is often named “miraculous”, “remarkable” or “extraordinary”. At my lowest weight, less than 5½ stone (half my current body weight), I was teetering on the threshold between life and death. I had no reflex, I was vacant, hardly there. But here I am, now, flourishing and nourishing the brand new life I have created for myself.

My eating disorder began after a severe traumatic brain injury, which occurred when I was 18 years old. At the time, I was a jockey, and I fell off a racehorse. When a bandage became untied from the horse’s leg, he tripped and rotated. I was dislodged, and landed on my head. Bang. I stopped breathing, everyone thought I was dead. My father revived me, and I was airlifted to hospital. I fell into a coma. When I eventually woke up, I had total amnesia, and I could not remember anything about my life. A blank canvas, ready to be coloured and created anew. But I couldn’t do anything. I did not recognise anyone. I did not know how to put shoes or socks on.

I can’t remember any of this, since my amnesia continued. All I “know” about my history comes from other people’s testimony. The brain damage meant I could not retain memories. Eventually, after a while, and still very unwell, I was discharged home. My mind’s reaction to the brain’s injury was to develop neurotic and psychotic symptoms. I couldn’t control anything, I couldn’t do anything.