Fragile

by Nikki Grahame

  As soon as I stepped out of the limousine at the Albert Hall that evening, 31 October 2006, I knew it was going to be a very special night.

  I was interviewed by Kelly and Jack Osbourne on the red carpet!

  And inside, the hall was packed wall to wall with celebrities. Everywhere I turned, someone wanted to talk to me, and because so many people had been following me on Big Brother they all felt like they knew me personally.

  Matt Lucas – I’ve always loved him and think he’s so funny – came up to me. Hardly able to speak to him, I blurted out, ‘I can’t believe it’s you.’ He gave me a huge smile and replied, ‘I feel like that about you! You’re going to put me out of a job.’

  Then we all took our seats and the awards ceremony started. When it came to our category, Michael Barrymore appeared on stage to present it.

  He read out the award – Most Popular TV Contender – and then they showed a clip of me doing my ‘Who is she?’ rant on Big Brother. I remember Michael saying, ‘And the winner is…’ and then everything goes a bit blurry. He must have said my name, because I turned to my agent, who was sitting next to me, and asked, ‘Has he made a mistake? Are you sure?’

  I was so gobsmacked I practically stumbled up on to the stage. There I was handed the award and as I turned to look at all those people, all cheering and clapping, it felt unbelievable. And then a voice from the back of the hall shouted, ‘You deserve it, Nikki.’ I hadn’t prepared a speech because I’d never thought I would win, so I just kept thanking everyone who had voted for me and then went to walk off the stage – but went completely the wrong way!

  When I got back to my seat there was so much adrenalin running through my body that my hands and legs were visibly shaking.

  Later on, Big Brother won an award for Most Popular Reality Show, so it was a magical night.

  Afterwards we went to the show party with all the team from Endemol and then on to the Met Bar, drinking and dancing.

  Mum was then working at the sorting office as a postlady in Pinner and started her shift at five in the morning. An hour later I was just returning from central London and I got the cab driver to drop me off there. It was a cold, sharp night and I was still just wearing my flimsy silk dress when I teetered up the ramp into the sorting office, holding my award behind my back.

  I spotted Mum across the other side of the building in her uniform and I quietly tiptoed up behind her.

  ‘Guess what’s happened,’ I laughed as she heard me and turned round. I whipped out the award from behind my back and watched as her face filled with delight.

  Mum picked me up and spun me round and round, shouting at her colleagues, ‘Everyone, look, she’s won. My little girl has won.’

  Now I keep that award – engraved with the words ‘Most Popular TV Contender 2006 – Nikki Grahame’ – on my coffee table at home. It’s always there to remind me of that night and the most amazing time of my life on Big Brother.

  According to a poll by Channel 4, I was the twelfth most written-about person in the newspapers in 2006. But I’m under no illusion that everyone loved me! I was also voted the Second Most Annoying Person of 2006 in a BBC3 poll. But the fact that I was appearing in TV polls at all was still pretty mind-blowing for me.

  Towards the end of that year I finished filming Princess Nikki and after six months’ non-stop activity and work, Mum and I finally escaped for a holiday to Dubai. The trip was a huge treat, but I’d been working so hard and earning good money and hadn’t had a chance to enjoy any of it until then.

  When we arrived in Dubai I turned off my mobile phone and slept on and off for days. I was so exhausted. In the evenings Mum and I would go for a cocktail at a bar overlooking the beach and talk about everything that had happened over the past year and how much my life had changed.

  The bad part of my life had already ended well before I went into Big Brother and I’d been fit and well for several years. But Big Brother was still the defining point in my life. Entering the house was the moment when life became good.

  CHAPTER 23

  A LIFE WORTH LIVING

  It’s more than two years now since I stepped out of the Big Brother house and every day I’m grateful for the opportunities it has given me.

  During the last two series of Big Brother I’ve been a roving reporter on Big Brother’s Little Brother, the magazine show about the series which goes out on Channel 4 and E4. I’ve interviewed Dustin Hoffman on the red carpet, acted out comedy sketches and done background reports on housemates.

  And I’m often a guest on all sorts of TV shows. I was on 8 Out Of 10 Cats, The Friday Night Project, the quiz shows The Weakest Link and Celebrity Juice.

  I’ve even starred in a TV ad for Domino’s Pizza.

  And, according to something I read recently, I’m the fifty-second most Googled woman in the world.

  I’m grateful for my quiet life at home. It is as if getting that taste of stardom has made me appreciate more than ever the simple things, like walking my dogs in the fields near my flat, popping round for a coffee and a chat with Mum, or going for a quiet drink with a close friend.

  Having a celebrity profile has also allowed me to help other people. I’ve worked with Macmillan Cancer Support and the Stroke Association and I was privileged to travel to Scotland to spend a day with a little girl who’d asked to meet me as a wish through the Rays of Sunshine Charity for kids with cystic fibrosis. We went shopping and had a McDonald’s together but she died shortly afterwards, which was a shocking reminder of how precious and fragile life is.

  Mum and I have been through so much together, both good and bad, that we are bound very tightly by it. Those experiences have made us stronger both individually and together. I don’t know how I would cope without her around – she still looks after me a huge amount and is the rock on which my life is built.

  Natalie and I still drive each other mad at times and still fight for Mum’s attention, but we get on better now than we have ever done. Nat says ever since Big Brother she has found a respect for me that wasn’t there before. She says seeing me pull myself up from the gutter, from having nothing when I came out of Rhodes Farm to winning a National Television Award, made her think about her life differently too.

  After she was sacked from her receptionist’s job while I was in Big Brother Natalie started thinking about what she really wanted to do, which was to become a scriptwriter. She’d loved writing stories since we were kids. So she enrolled on an MA course, which she has just completed, and now she is writing scripts for films and plays, hoping one of them will get commissioned.

  I really respect her for following her dream too and I hope so much that she achieves it. I’m sure she will.

  Dad lives a couple of minutes away and I see him about once a week. I still blame him a lot for my parents’ divorce and ending my perfect childhood. But writing this book has made me see that things may not always have been easy for him either and perhaps he too was just someone muddling through life as best he could.

  Now we get on pretty well and sometimes he’ll pop around for a cup of tea with me and Natalie and we’ll take the mickey out of him and he’ll tease us like when we were kids. Just a few years ago I could never, ever have imagined that happening again. But it is because he’s my dad and I love him. And I’ll always love him.

  I often think back to our house in Stanley Road where we all lived together before I was eight and everything seemed so good, so happy. Three times I’ve knocked on the door of that house and asked the people who live there now to show me around because I’ve felt so desperate to return there and to try to reclaim that life.

  But I’m learning to accept that that life has gone for ever and isn’t coming back. Instead I’ve got to focus my energy on this life, right now, and look to the future and all the opportunities it can bring.

  At the moment I’m single and meeting Mr Right isn’t easy. In fact I think becoming a recognised face from television has probably made finding a bloke harder
than ever. Nowadays I tend to attract men who just like the idea of dating someone who has been on telly. I always fall for good-looking blokes with all the patter, but I’ve discovered they are generally not the ones to trust. I’ve been cheated on and mucked around by enough blokes to make me suspicious of their motives.

  I’d love to settle down one day and have kids, but that is quite a lot for me to hope for. I’m 27 and I’ve still never had a natural period, which means I have virtually no chance of ever falling pregnant naturally. The prospect of never having children is probably the worst thing anorexia has left me with.

  But another of its legacies is osteoporosis, a bone disease in which your bones become thinner and thinner, making them hugely susceptible to fractures. Osteoporosis can be caused by low oestrogen levels, which is a side effect of anorexia’s preventing the body going through puberty.

  Missing out on calcium in my food when I was younger has only made the problem worse. Women of my age can expect to have bone density of between 0 and −1. When it gets to −2.5 you’re classed as having osteoporosis. A scan last year showed my spine is −2.9. My bone density is like that of a 68-year-old. There is little I can do to reverse the damage I’ve already done, but I take a calcium supplement and eat as much dairy food as I can to prevent it getting worse.

  I’ve had two fractured ribs (one from just a strong hug), fractured toes (when a television fell on me in a nightclub) and a fractured elbow (from falling over). I’m constantly in danger of fracturing myself again, which means I have to be incredibly careful never to slip or hurt myself. The main concern is what it’ll be like when I get older. In extreme cases of osteoporosis, even sneezing can cause a fracture and it can be incredibly painful.

  My OCD remains with me too. I’m still obsessive about cleanliness and hygiene and I don’t like other people touching things that I am about to eat or drink. Recently I was doing interviews at a radio station and a woman offered me a cup of tea. ‘Thanks very much,’ I said, ‘but can I make it?’

  She thought I was joking – but I was serious.

  ‘No, you sit there, I’m making it,’ I snapped at the poor woman when she still hadn’t got the message after a couple of minutes.

  And while I might let a friend make me a sandwich I still have to stand over them to supervise everything they do.

  If I eat in a restaurant, as soon as the knife and fork are put on the table I wrap them in tissue so they can’t get contaminated by anyone touching them or breathing on them. Minutes earlier the waiter or waitress may have had their hands all over them, but if I haven’t seen it I can cope with. But if someone were to touch my cutlery in front of me, I’d freak out.

  At home I still have just a couple of plates, knives, forks and spoons that I will use over and over again. And I love that pre-packed plastic cutlery they give away in shops. Even though logically I know it hasn’t just magicked itself into that packet and someone, somewhere, has touched it, for me the thought of it being wrapped in cellophane makes it clean and safe.

  My OCD is gradually getting better but it’s still very tough if I’m feeling low or if I’ve been out all day and been unable to wash my hands.

  And I have to work hard not to become compulsive about exercise too. I limit myself to three trips to the gym a week, one swimming session and have a very structured routine.

  In my view you never fully get over anorexia but you can learn to live with it. You can keep it in check and be aware of the danger signs if it is threatening to overcome you again. I still know the calories in virtually any food you can mention and it is hard for me to decide on what to eat for a meal without those numbers bouncing around my head. And I still weigh foods like pasta just to make sure that I don’t have more than I feel comfortable with – 45 grams (1½ oz) and no more.

  But I no longer feel those issues are putting my health in danger and I’m getting better all the time. Until fairly recently I was still mopping up grease on my food with a tissue but I’ve stopped that now. And this summer I ate a plate of chips when I was at a festival with my friends. It was the first time in ten years, since I was at Rhodes Farm.

  I’m still reluctant to let my weight go above 40 kilos (6 stone 4 lb). To most people that will seem very thin but it is a weight I’m comfortable with.

  So yes, there is still a lot of control in my relationship with food and my body. But so long as I can retain that control and exercise regularly I know I won’t make myself sick again. The only danger is if for some reason I can’t train as often as I want. It is then that I’ll start to eat less and I have to be careful not to slip back into one of those dangerous cycles where I start enjoying the idea of not eating.

  Last year I had a second boob job to correct some of the mistakes made during my first op when I was 18. After the surgery I couldn’t exercise for a month and I did struggle with my food for a while and was becoming very conscious of how much I was eating every day. But once I was able to start exercising again it was fine.

  I’ll never return to the person I was before I was eight – I’ll never have that carefree attitude to life and my body and food. But I know I will never slip back into full-on anorexia again either. There is no way I’ll ever starve myself to death now as I enjoy life too much. I’ve seen how much there is for me out here and I want to remain a part of it.

  In the past couple of years I have met lots of young people – boys and girls – through B-eat, a charity which supports people with eating disorders.

  I’ve also visited hospitals and gone to Rhodes Farm to speak to patients.

  When I meet kids still fighting anorexia it is an in-your-face reminder of how far I have come. Because when I see girls with their twig-like legs and bones jutting out from their clothes I think, That’s how I was – but probably worse. It makes me feel incredibly sad because I know they have a huge struggle ahead of them. But I also know the struggle is so worthwhile. And that is what I try to explain when I talk to them. All I can do is attempt to give them hope that they can get better and there is a life outside for them.

  Every day I look at the scar across my stomach where my gastrostomy tube once was. It is a permanent reminder of the two-inch piece of plastic that stood between me and certain death.

  Thinking back on those years to write this book has been at times excruciatingly painful and led to many nights of broken sleep and silent tears as I’ve relived those times.

  I had some good times and made amazing friendships in the hospitals and units where I stayed, but in general the years from eight to 16 were marked by sadness, loneliness and anger. They were certainly not a childhood.

  Sometimes I just can’t believe it all happened – being pinned down by six nurses while a tube was shoved up my nose, being drugged up for weeks on end to stop me screaming and fighting like a demon, falling into a coma one Boxing Day night, crawling up stairs because I was too weak to walk, cramming paracetamol down my throat because I’d had enough of living, sleeping in a shop doorway.

  The only reason I know it is all true is because when I do think over all that stuff, I can still feel the pain inside me. Because, despite all the good things that have happened since, that ball of hurt and sadness of a little girl so incredibly alone remains buried inside me. And I think it will probably always be there. It is part of who I am.

  Dr Dee Dawson, who runs Rhodes Farm, told me recently that when she accepted me there she was told, ‘Do what you can with her but it doesn’t really matter – she is going to die anyway.’

  It is stories like that that make me feel so incredibly lucky to be alive. And even more lucky to have had the opportunities and experiences that getting selected for Big Brother brought with it.

  I have vowed I will never take this life for granted. It is all too much of a miracle.

  For so long I cared about no one and nothing apart from starving myself. Anorexia was my best friend, my only friend. Thoughts of not eating dominated my every waking moment and gave me a superhuman stre
ngth to fight off anyone who tried to stop me pursuing my mission.

  As for why I did it? I think maybe it was something I was born with and that I would have become anorexic at some point in my life, but my parents’ divorce, Grandad’s death and then my competitiveness at gymnastics were triggers when I was eight.

  Add to that my ultra-competitive nature in general, which meant I didn’t just want to be any old anorexic, I wanted to be the best.

  And what was it that brought me back out of it? I believe it was purely my own decision that I wanted to live – I wanted to give the outside world a try after being away from it for so long.

  I know I was very lucky to have stayed alive long enough to make that decision. Others were not so lucky. Sara, one of the ‘hairdryer gang’ at Rhodes Farm, died three years ago at 23 from heart failure brought on by anorexia. She was the same age as me.

  But many others who I lived with at those clinics and specialist units have managed to go on to live amazing, fulfilled lives with great jobs, loving relationships and families of their own.

  Because there is hope for anyone who has an eating disorder. And so there is hope for their parents, brothers, sisters, husbands and children. That’s why I have written this book. Not to say, ‘Hey, look at me and what a great time I had in Big Brother,’ but to say to anyone who is now in the pit of despair that I once was in: There is a life out there for you. And it is worth living.

  I guess it is pretty unlikely many other people with anorexia will end up getting selected for Big Brother and land their own TV show cleaning out pig shit! But there will be other things in their future that bring them the happiness and security that I know deep down they are desperately craving. Writing this has made me realise how much of my life I wasted before I got on with living and how much I want to prevent other girls making that same mistake.

  So my advice to kids with anorexia now?