Sitting with my family eating dinner, my phone vibrated. It was a message from my 17-year-old daughter Esther. As I read it, tears formed in my eyes. ‘I feel so alone,’ it read.
She was just upstairs in her bedroom.
‘Come and sit with us,’ I replied, hoping to draw her downstairs to join me, my husband Rob, and her younger brother and two sisters.
But Esther didn’t respond. She couldn’t bring herself to face food because of her ongoing battle with anorexia.
Up until her teens, Esther had lived a happy life – she did well at school, learnt to play the piano and took part in gymnastics competitions. Then in high
