Albury's Izzy Berry reached out to The Border Mail to bravely share the story of her battle with an eating disorder in the hope of offering support to others struggling and raise awareness of its life-threatening severity:
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Izzy Berry was called "Skinny Minnie" as a young girl.
The childhood nickname, innocently bestowed, stuck and as she got older it "became more and more a part of my identity".
She vividly recalls that when she was in Year 2, her school overhauled its canteen menu to focus on healthy eating.
Suddenly Izzy became fixated on only eating food that was green, yellow or red.
"I remember thinking when I had a lunch order (the food) had to be green," the now 18-year-old says.
"A lot of things that are meant to be good can have the opposite effect ..."
![Albury's Izzy Berry,18, wants to shine a light into the dark nature of living with anorexia nervosa. Picture by James Wiltshire Albury's Izzy Berry,18, wants to shine a light into the dark nature of living with anorexia nervosa. Picture by James Wiltshire](/images/transform/v1/crop/frm/PDupDCSG52UXrq68xwPPyU/5bc01986-7917-4025-a6cb-a5ac40547db2.JPG/r0_0_5116_3411_w1200_h678_fmax.jpg)
Izzy began seeing the school counsellor for anxiety when she was just eight years old.
At 11 she was referred to a psychologist; her eating already "distorted".
"I had a lot of anxiety around making sure that I was eating the 'right things'," she says.
She began to self-harm and was put under the "care" of Albury's Child and Adolescent Mental Health Services (CAMHS).
At the time, Izzy says the team acknowledged she had "disordered eating" but didn't think it was "necessary" for her to see an eating disorder specialist.
By 13, Izzy was suffering with significant depression and experienced suicidal ideation.
"Looking back, I was unwell and grappling with anorexia from a very young age," she says.
"In many ways, because it started so early and I was already thin, it went unnoticed.
"My family worried and they'd tell me I needed to eat more but so many others said it wasn't serious; that it was just a phase ..."
In 2022, Izzy Berry made two attempts on her life in the space of two months.
Every day since she has clawed her way back from a point "where it was almost too late to save me".
And into a gaping void of specialist care is a mother who refuses to accept defeat.
Even on the worst days.
Misunderstood, misdiagnosed ...
Izzy lives with her parents Melissa and Zane, and her older sister Gabby in their Lavington home, along with two gorgeous mini Dachsunds, Willow and Penny, and a Labradoodle called Katie.
The apprentice boiler maker contacted the Border Mail to share the story of her illness - "that for a long time I was too scared to talk about" - hoping to help others who are struggling in the wake of the Border and North East's escalating health crisis.
She wants to shine a light into the dark nature of her disorder, to dispel the myths that often surround it and draw attention to the devastating effects of our diet culture.
Izzy is at pains to point out that anorexia is a complex mental health disorder - too often misunderstood, even by the medical fraternity.
"It's a serious illness with the highest mortality rate of any other mental health disorder. Tragically, 1 in 5 people with anorexia will die from it," she explains.
"And alarmingly, more than 60 per cent of those suffering from anorexia will at least contemplate suicide."
Perhaps equally devastating, and for far too many people with an eating disorder, is that Izzy and her family have encountered health professionals who dismiss the severity of her condition.
OUR EATING DISORDER CRISIS:
They still fail to understand that anorexia is more than a disorder about food and weight.
"It's an internal battle that manifests physically," she says.
"It's a fight against intrusive and harmful thoughts about self-worth and self-image.
"The physical effects, while sometimes noticeable, are merely the tip of an iceberg that runs much deeper."
!['She was my everyone' ... Izzy Berry with her mum, Melissa Berry, who has been by her daughter's side throughout her battle with an eating disorder. Picture by James Wiltshire 'She was my everyone' ... Izzy Berry with her mum, Melissa Berry, who has been by her daughter's side throughout her battle with an eating disorder. Picture by James Wiltshire](/images/transform/v1/crop/frm/PDupDCSG52UXrq68xwPPyU/3e0d9d65-fbf0-44a9-95d8-759ba1a085a3.JPG/r0_0_5472_3648_w1200_h678_fmax.jpg)
Left in the dark
For Izzy, there came a time "when it all got too much".
Her mental health deteriorated to the point she dropped out of school half-way through Year 10.
Locally, the treatment and supports for her eating disorder were, at best, spasmodic and her illness wasn't taken seriously.
"I got left in the dark," Izzy says.
"If a person left CAMHS, they'd take a long time to replace them; there was no continuity of care."
Then there was the countless times the family took Izzy to Albury Hospital, only to watch in frustration as she was given a cursory physical check and sent home.
In January last year, Izzy attempted suicide.
Melissa rushed her daughter to Albury's emergency department and pushed for her to receive treatment in Melbourne.
She was sent home with a Valium; her mum drove her to Box Hill Hospital the next day.
When Izzy arrived at Box Hill's child and adolescent mental health unit, she was immediately transferred to the children's medical ward.
She was so unwell, her body had started shutting down.
"That night my parents were told they might have to say goodbye," Izzy reveals.
Once she was stabilised, Izzy was re-fed via a naso-gastric tube during her stay and later put on a strict meal plan.
But in a story that sounds devastatingly familiar, when she was discharged from Box Hill the family were left floundering for help when they returned to the Border.
Two months later, Izzy made a second attempt on her life.
Her frantic mum drove her to Albury hospital but later that night Izzy was sent home again.
It was a Sunday and the family was told CAMHS would be in touch the next day.
"They gave me the 1300 crisis number that I already knew by heart," Melissa says.
"We waited and we waited for someone to contact us but when I rang the crisis number we were told it was a public holiday in Victoria and CAMHS was closed."
Izzy was growing increasingly distressed and Melissa was terrified to leave her side.
It would take another 72 hours of relentless ringing before Izzy was given an appointment at CAMHS, only to be told they couldn't send her to Box Hill because there were no beds.
"They told us if anything happens, don't hesitate to call an ambulance," Melissa says.
Melissa's parents drove all night from Queensland to support the distraught family.
"Things got desperate again and we called an ambulance; then we waited four hours in the ambulance for a bed at Albury," Melissa reveals.
Eventually Izzy was seen by a psychologist, she was sectioned and transported to Box Hill the following day.
Izzy describes her stay in the adolescent mental health unit as "horrific"; staff appeared ill-equipped to manage her eating disorder, including implementing her meal plan.
And despite being in the care of health professionals, it was Melissa who had to go in and ensure her daughter ate.
Izzy says the lack of understanding and support of her condition only served to exacerbate her feelings of isolation and helplessness.
Because she had made an attempt on her life, the aim of her inpatient stay was to keep her safe.
The irony is it was her eating disorder putting her in the gravest peril.
Melissa drove home on the Saturday to see her family but hospital staff called her at 11pm to say a very upset Izzy wanted to go home.
"I told them I've just finished a three-hour drive and I couldn't drive back because I was exhausted," Melissa says.
"I questioned Izzy being able to leave because she'd been sectioned and they told me because it occurred in NSW, it didn't count in Victoria. She was free to go.
"I couldn't quite believe it. The next morning Zane and I drove back and signed her out."
A mother's love
From then on, the burden of care fell to Melissa.
"I was like her jail warden," she says sadly.
Izzy describes it differently.
"She became my everyone - my doctor, my psychologist, my dietician, my full-time carer," she states.
They would wait months and months for the follow-up support Izzy was meant to receive through Albury-Wodonga Health.
"How can you navigate this by yourself?" Izzy asks.
"I was extremely lucky that Mum did her research, she joined forums, she talked to anyone she could ... but it was so tough on her."
![The tattoos etched on Izzy Berry's arm document her journey with an eating disorder. Picture by Mark Jesser The tattoos etched on Izzy Berry's arm document her journey with an eating disorder. Picture by Mark Jesser](/images/transform/v1/crop/frm/PDupDCSG52UXrq68xwPPyU/70d05177-5c82-4938-93a5-ef78b6e3abcf.jpg/r0_0_3712_5568_w1200_h678_fmax.jpg)
Months later when Izzy was physically stable enough to return to work, Melissa still picked her up every lunch time to ensure she ate.
Melissa describes the journey as "relentless, exhausting and heartbreaking".
The worst part, she says, is "unless you know, you don't know".
That's the hardest challenge for families entering the abyss of the world of eating disorders.
You aren't prepared, there is no manual and finding support locally is like navigating your way through a labyrinth - without a map.
Still, Melissa believes she's fortunate in that she has been able to devote herself full-time to Izzy's care, without the worry of having to work.
Zane has been a pillar of strength, together with close friends and family.
"I never accepted it was going to win," Melissa says firmly.
"No one is going to take my baby away."
There's rough days and tension between mother and daughter in the very real struggle between the eating disorder and Izzy.
Melissa is more easily able to brush that off now with the acceptance that this as an illness.
"If she had diabetes I'd be checking in on her regularly," she explains.
"Now when I ask her if she's hungry and she says no, I ask whether it's the real Izzy making the decision or not."
Izzy admits she struggles every single day.
And even though she's physically stable, the mental side is "still terrible".
"My whole brain is stuck even though I try to fight it every minute of every day.
"I've got a lot of coping strategies now ... I just want to enjoy life.
"I'm getting there and I've made a lot of improvements.
"The saddest truth is a lot of people need to learn to manage their eating disorder their whole lives."
Disarmingly honest and articulate, Izzy turns to the topic of hope.
She has found solace and inspiration in New Zealand mental health activist and author Jazz Thornton, who has openly documented her battle with mental illness.
"I used to look at her social media every day to remind myself there's hope because those stories are hard to come by," Izzy says.
"I know it sounds cringey but I've held on to her saying that it's not about battling your past, but fighting for your future.
"I'm living by that."
The tattoos winding their way up her left arm are testament to her journey.
Etched into her forearm are an eating disorder symbol, the birth flowers of her family "helping me to grow" and the evocative words, "You are worthy".
It's clear Izzy is determined to make a difference - to agitate for changes that might help others in the future.
At the top of the to-do list is better education for health care professionals.
"We need more education and training about eating disorders, their complexities, and the best practices for treatment," Izzy states.
She's a big believer in finding support from people with lived experience.
Off her own bat, she's tracked down a Perth-based eating disorder coach (there are none available locally), through an organisation called Uncovery, who has been a "life saver".
It's affordable and accessible - and it's about help with the little things that can trip you up.
Like a weigh-in at the GP.
"Being able to message someone who understands what you're going through is just so much more powerful," Izzy says.
But her most vehement call for action is around early intervention.
Because this young woman knows all too well the price that's paid when early indicators are ignored or not taken seriously.
"If you go to a doctor they don't say, 'Well, you've got a little bit of cancer there but get back in touch with us when it's life-threatening'," Izzy says.
"Hopefully people in the future who are suffering won't have to jump through the same hoops I have to stay alive."
Do you need help?
- Butterfly Foundation national helpline: 1800 ED HOPE (1800 33 4673), chat online at www.butterfly.org.au or via email at support@butterfly.org.au
- Eating Disorders Victoria: 1300 550 236 or online at www.eatingdisorders.org.au
- The National Eating Disorder Collaboration: www.nedc.com.au
- Eating Disorders Families Australia: 1300 195 626 or online at www.edfa.org.au
- headspace: 1800 650 890 or visit headspace.org.au to chat online or via email
- AWH mental health triage: 1300 104 211