My concern for her developed fairly soon. It was not just a diet. Something more sinister was at work. Excessive weight loss was becoming apparent but more so was the attitude to food. She was losing control over her life and Anorexia was replacing that control.

The person I had fallen in love with afew years previously was literally disappearing in front of my eyes. This person, who brought joy and happiness to all around her was now being destroyed by a force of which I had no understanding. The hollow, sunken eyes of death replaced the beautiful eyes of compassion. The same appearance of death I had witnessed first hand in the child soldiers of war on the African continent and on the ruined streets of Beirut during the Lebanese civil war.

There is not the space here to comment on the inept medical profession which we encountered on our journey. Poor communication, lack of understanding and compassion and personalities led by ego. That was from the sufferer's point of view. As a carer I tended not to exist.

I resolved to care. I would align myself with Anorexia in an attempt to understand. To reach out to the minuscule part of my fiancée's persona which remained, entwined and trapped by a force of immense psychological proportions. What was rational became irrational and therefore required irrational thoughts.

As she spiralled through the gates of hell I walked with her. I had to gain her trust at all costs despite the extreme tests, which Anorexia will present. It was of paramount importance. There was no room for ego. I made many mistakes on this journey which, on occasion had catastrophic results. I learnt very quickly on these occasions but unfortunately other people did not. A single sentence could instil a total mood shift. Sometimes, somebody who should have known better could destroy days of work in seconds by a single naïve comment. On these occasions I found myself picking up the pieces, racing through the darkened streets of night to Accident and Emergency or to Acute Psychiatric Units. The after affects of overdose or self-harm, leaving my fiancée begging me to let her die. I once read that Suicide is the only great philosophy worthy of consideration.

On at least one occasion an esoteric event occurred which could not be explained. As if a Supreme Being had intervened and carried the both of us for the short distance necessary to allow us to continue. I will not attempt to offer explanation for this event.

As the years progressed my fiancée began to develop the immense courage required to begin the difficult journey of recovery. I had to find answers to the questions she posed. Constantly listening to the voices through which Anorexia communicated. It was a rocky and hazardous journey, a struggle for life itself. It had many setbacks but she persisted and I continued to care.

As my fiancée began to emerge into the light of the day I now found myself almost trapped in a psychological pit of my own. Not something I had given any thought to now presented itself before me. I have heard comments such as 'Compassion Fatigue' and now I had to start thinking for myself once again. I now had my own battles to fight in order to complete this journey with my fiancée.

My fiancée is now of healthy mind and of healthy body. The scars of Anorexia have left their mark and neither she nor I will ever forget. Her efforts now are directed at offering hope to other sufferers so that they too, against tremendous odds, can complete their own journeys.