I've got my SPARKLE BACK

After losing her beloved grandmother, Rebecca Hemming fell into a downward spiral

- MATT BARBOUR, LOUISE BATY

Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings.' Those iconic words from my nan Ellen's favourite Christmas film It's a Wonderful Life still bring me the same joy they brought me as a child, snuggled up on Nan's sofa with my siblings, sorting through a tin of Quality Street chocolates and Nan making sure we were cosy under a blanket, pouring us each a hot chocolate. Those are the Christmas memories I cherish.

Even as an adult, Nan seemed to shape important moments for me. She paid for my university student accommodation and beamed with pride alongside Mum and Dad at my nursing school graduation in 2000. She was thrilled when I started working at the Royal Orthopaedic Hospital in Birmingham - my dream job.

Comfort eating

Then on Christmas Day 2004, I had my son George. Of course, Nan doted on him and spoilt him just as much as she had me and my siblings when we were young. I was a single mum so she even looked after him so that I could work. Years passed and I couldn't ever imagine a life without her. Only, when George was still young, Nan started getting forgetful and confused. She was diagnosed with dementia, and the disease took hold frightfully fast. In November 2016, Nan passed away, aged 86.

Reeling from the loss, I retreated into myself and found it so difficult to talk about my grief. That's when my problem with food started.

Comfort eating seemed to be the only way I could numb my feelings. For those few moments I was enjoying food, I wasn't thinking about how much I missed the woman who meant so much to me.

When I wasn't on shift, I'd head home and eat until I felt sick. Creamy curries, fry-ups, steak, crisps, ice cream - anything I fancied, I never restricted myself.