He's had more than his fair share of experiences when it came to helping me. I've had exactly 5 suicide attempts when I lived with him. I still live with him, by the way. When I first started living with him, I refused to change, although he knew everything.
I refused to eat, and I did everything I could to stop the time for eating to come. I was, in a way, a rebellious child. I saw him as my parents, forcing me to do something, in the beginning. I know, he helped me, but I couldn't stop my thoughts. I couldn't help it.
He force fed me, shoved the food down my throat when I was at my weakest, but now, I know why he did that. If he didn't force feed me, I would've died a few weeks later, days even. I only weighed 15 kilograms.
He shoved food down my throat day and night, school days and weekends. He gave me what was an adult-size meal, so I could get better sooner. Of course, he knew the basics of helping a child with anorexia. He fed me tiny, almost liquidised food to eat at first, before slowly getting me used to eating again.
It took me three years to grow back to the normal weight girls my age weighed. At first, I felt all of the fat on me, and purged. But thankfully, my foster dad (I obviously got adopted) caught me in the act a few months later. He refused to allow me to go to the bathroom straight after I ate.
It took him a few more months to trust me again, but he has never lost his trust in me again. Well, food-wise anyway.
Sometimes, I still feel fat when I'm eating, but I have to ignore the voice in my head to purge or stop eating again. I slowly got to feed myself after I was clearly making progress. However, he still had to sit next to me and help me along.
The staffroom at school became my second home during school time. Although it was embarrassing to be force fed in front of teachers, they did everything to make me feel more comfortable. I grew to trust teachers again. I grew to learn that they are just like other humans, other children. They feel helpless in situations like bullying.
Because it's not as easy as people say. Help the victim, tell an authority. Authorities don't help. You can't force somebody to stop their version of fun.
But help is never far, although hope may seem so. You just need to find the right people, or let them find you, like in my case.