It has been a while since I last entered a classroom. I cannot say I miss the chewing gum under the desks or the squeaky chairs, always one leg shorter than the other three. I have happily swapped my scratchy uniform for something more comfortable and no longer find myself caught up in all of the insignificant worries that seem like the end of the world when you are 17.

Reflecting on my time at school eight years later, it is the chairs and the chewing gum I remember because they were the easy things - the things that meant nothing.

I struggle to remember the big things: the proms, the chemistry lessons with the big explosions, the history trips, the school Christmas dinner, because I wasn’t really there. I spent my final year of sixth form in hospital - an inpatient specialist eating disorder unit, to be precise - and all of the things that were meant to be important, I missed.

Eating disorders develop as a result of many factors, internal and external. My personal experience stemmed from an overly competitive nature. It was exacerbated by the prevalence of fellow students in my year with disordered patterns of eating or ill-informed attitudes towards food - diet culture and exercise, especially.

In 2013, before social media had become such a widespread and inescapable part of our everyday lives, eating disorders were already rife. I cannot comprehend how hard it must be to be a 17-year-old today.

As we come out of one pandemic, another is taking its place. Though the traditional idea of a “classroom” has been rather swiftly and dramatically redefined, the realities of the students that occupy them have not.

Eating disorders: Teachers supporting pupils with anorexia

Perhaps now, more than ever, the pressures young people are placing on themselves to fit a certain body shape, lifestyle or “look” are undeniable. Less time in school has meant more time on screens. Eating and exercising have become hugely formative parts of our days because, when confined to our homes, they are some of the few “structures” that have remained constant - constant and within our control.

Control is one of the driving forces behind eating disorders. For those who enjoy control, or struggle to assert control in the areas of their life that are determined by chance, food and exercise are two certainties, two choices. Whether it manifests itself as restriction, bingeing or something in between, the desire to control one’s diet always runs the risk of losing control, of taking it to extremes. Understanding this is essential if the right support is to be given to those who are struggling.

My personal experiences of an eating disorder are explicitly linked to anorexia and so what I would advise a teacher or carer to say, and not to say, is catered somewhat specifically to this particular illness. Every individual is predisposed to their own trigger factors and it is precisely this that makes knowing what to say and what not to say an almost impossibly sensitive challenge.

Reflecting on the period I can now call “my decline”, I do not envy my teachers. Expressing concern about a student’s weight loss is one of the hardest things an educational professional may have to do. Where is the line drawn? Do they say something or refrain from doing so for the sake of pastoral protocol?

If one of my teachers had told me they were worried I had lost weight, I would have either seen it as encouragement to lose more or refused to acknowledge what they were saying. When a person has committed themselves to losing weight, there is very little, if anything, another person can do to stop them.

Don’t focus on appearance

It is why the best piece of advice I can offer to a teacher concerned about one of their students is that, instead of making it about weight or physical appearance, take the observation away from aesthetics and refocus it on general mental health instead. Ask them if everything is going OK “up there”. Are they stressed? Is there any way that, as their teacher, you can help alleviate pressure with deadlines or other external issues?

Remember, control is often what someone who is struggling is seeking: if they feel as though they are losing control of their workload or their friendships, this could be driving them to control their food intake in an unhealthy manner.

Helping a pupil regain control of other elements of their lives in a positive way might actually reduce the desire to develop disordered patterns of eating or exercise. It might seem an obscure approach but eating disorders are obscure illnesses.

Using control as a way to address an eating disorder pandemic where one of the main symptoms is itself toxic control may seem counterintuitive on the face of things. Nevertheless, a solution desperately needs to be found and I believe that this is a good place to start.

Megan Ravenhall is a writer and the author of My Friend Jane, a book about eating disorders for educators, parents and teenagers (bit.ly/MyFriendJane)

This article originally appeared in the 10 September 2021 issue under the headline “Tes focus on...Helping pupils with anorexia”