Anorexia that nearly killed me

SINCE the end of my marriage to

Katherine Duncan-Jones, I have scarcely ever been to the doctor, whereas when I was living with her and trying to make the best of it, I hardly ate and was often ill.

Several friends suggested these bouts of illness had been physical expressions of inner malaise and they’re probably right. Bottling it all up must have been the chief reason why I became anorexic and suffered from a number of illnesses, in my early to mid-20s — two bouts of pneumonia, one of pleurisy, and weight loss down to seven stone.

If it had not been for a GP near Oxford, who cured me by hypnotherapy, I think my eating disorder would probably have killed me.