In case anorexia wasn't enough to have on my plate, at that time I also was struggling greatly with depression. I had many suicidal thoughts and even a couple of attempts. I was incredibly emotionally needy. I needed to be noticed. I needed someone to either help me out of the depths of my depression or someone to love me unconditionally or maybe someone to slap me in the face and tell me to get my act together. Whatever it was that I needed, I was not getting it.
After writing a suicide note to a friend of mine, which was much more of a "please someone notice me" note, than a suicide note, I had to face my parents with the news of my planned suicide. The principal of my school called my parents into his office (for the 2nd time in 3 years) and told them of my note and recent apathetic depressed state at school. He, again for the 2nd time, suggested I get counseling. I never did.
There was however a teacher who often would talk to me. She had had a rough past herself and would often try to help me see the value in myself that she saw. I will forever cherish her for that. She did everything she could to help me keep my head above water. I talked about depression and suicide with her. I kept my eating habits a secret though. I wasn't ready to reveal that particular secret. As long as it was my secret, I had power.
I think I owe my life to those two people, the teacher and the principal. They loved me. They prayed for me. They did everything they could to help me. Well, to be completely fair and honest, I owe my life to God who for whatever reason He chose, did not allow any of my suicide attemts over the years to kill me. I never even got sick and trust me with some of the things I did, I should have at minimum had my stomach pumped.