My doctor considers me “in recovery” at this point, b/c I’m only purging like once every other month or so. But I don’t feel recovered. In fact, every time I eat something that seems like a good recovery move – like letting myself eat Mac and cheese, or candy, or whatever – I just feel like a complete failure. Part of me feels like I’m failing my ED by giving in. Part of me feels like I’m failing myself by using recovery as an excuse to eat garbage. And then all of me just feels like a blob. I’m afraid to weigh myself but I know I’ve gained again; my fat pants are now fitting just fine and the rest of my pants are far too tight. I miss when starving was easy. Its like the saying goes, “I wish I was as fat as I was the first time I thought I was fat.” I understand that ED messed with my head and made me even more unhealthy than eating crap sometimes now and honestly made me a little bit crazy, but at least my fucking pants fit. I just … I don’t even know what I’m trying to say. Help me.
Anyone ever watch this movie in school? I think I was in seventh grade when they showed it to us. I have to wonder if it planted the seed that eventually grew into my ED.
Anyway, I found it tonight on YouTube. I hadn’t realized it was less than half an hour long. I don’t know why I watched it. But now I want to b/p like crazy – totally the opposite effect it’s supposed to have, I know.
I’m going to bed. Mostly bc it’s 1:30 in the morning, but also bc if I’m sleeping I’m not eating. And if I’m not eating I’m not puking. My husband doesn’t understand why I used to always want to sleep. Yes it was partially depression that didn’t want me to get out of bed, but also bc I didn’t want to eat. I wish I could do that now. Law school is making me fat.
so it’s thanksgiving.
i tried not to care about food. Really, for the past few weeks I’ve been trying not to care. Ive been eating all the sweets, the snacks, the comfort foods. I’ve been trying to tell myself that it’s just ED telling me my pants are getting tighter, my belly rounder, my cheeks squishier. I almost believed my lies. Almost.
but then, thanksgiving. Dinner itself was NBD, but dessert – that has always been the root of all evils for me. we were at his parents, so i tried to distract myself with wine. But in the end I gave in and ate. And ate. And ate. Then we came home, and i ate some more. And some more. And then more – even things I don’t like, just whatever I could get my hands on.
I ate until i was nauseous, and right when I was debating purging, my husband went to bed. So, alone, that question was easily answered by ED.
I’m not as upset about it as i probably should be. It’s been like 7 1/2 months since i last purged, i think. I should be upset about breaking my streak. But honestly, all i feel is relief. Relieved that I got all (some) of the calories out of me; relieved that i no longer feel full; relieved that maybe I won’t be even fatter tomorrow.
i miss ED. I miss being able to restrict, being small, being able to purge when i eat too much. I hate giving into cravings, gaining weight, sitting with my feelings of fullness. I hate that it seems to be one or the other.
i know that i need to say goodbye to ED permanently. I know that i need proper nutrition for my brain to function optimally and for my immune system to do its job. I know that i’m probably still smaller than many people in their 30s. I know that if i go back to ED full-time I’ll be cold, grumpy, and not able to focus on anything else. I know that if i go back to regular b/p-ing my face will swell, i’ll feel huge no matter how much i lose, and i’ll damage my body and my teeth. i know that i was a raving lunatic when i was deepest in my ED (and the drugs that i was doing “to lose weight” were no help with that).
but still. People who’ve never met ED have no idea how strong the feelings can be. How hard they are to fight off. How they’re completely irrational but make sense in a twisted way. How ED tells your rational self to fuck off and your rational self just obeys. I mean, i’ve wished to have fucking cancer just to get that bone-thin look. in the documentary “Thin” one of the girls with bulimia talks about how she joined the military during a time of active conflict (maybe desert storm?) just to go to boot camp and lose weight. To non-ED people that probably sounded nuts. She seemed to realize that it should sound nuts. But my ED side heard it like a suggestion, like if life hadn’t interfered i might have followed her lead. wtf.
phew. it’s been a while since i was on here; I guess i finally had some things to say. Happy thanksgiving, y’all.
I think I want to break up with my psychiatrist. She doesn’t get me at all. All her sentences start with “but you’re not…” like she doesn’t believe I could possibly have real issues while still being high-functioning. “You’re not depressed now though right? You’re not really restricting anymore right? Your mood is good right?” She constantly minimizes my ED and today even called it “not serious.” Like yes it’s true that I no longer b/p 5-10 times per day, but just bc I’m improved doesn’t mean I’m cured. And I don’t think an ED can ever be “not serious.” I tried to open up about my body image issues and she essentially told me to stop being ridiculous bc I’m not actually fat. Like yes I know I’m not morbidly obese but a) I’m flabby and b) that doesn’t change how I feel. Even when I was clinically underweight and was diagnosed with AN (restricting type) only, I still felt fat. Clearly ED is not a logical thing; it’s a fucking mental illness.
I had the best psych for like six years and then she moved across the country. Sometimes I wonder if I’m just never going to like anyone else simply bc they’re not her. Or maybe I’m just not sick enough anymore and I’m wasting everyone’s time with body image issues when half the women in America hate their bodies.
including myself of course. I hate that every time I try to take a positive step towards recovery I end up feeling worse. I hate that some people never worry about food and calories and weight and I’m stuck in a daily cycle of obsession. I hate that I have to dress up for work instead of wearing baggy sweatpants that hide my insecurities. I hate that my office is so hot; sweating makes me feel like even more of a pig. I hate the people I work with who treat me like I’m disposable. I hate that I’m always still hungry after eating healthy so then I binge and ruin everything. I hate that I never see sunshine. I hate that speaking my mind is frowned upon. I hate relying on people.
I’d love to be happy again.
I am such a gross blob. I’m also probably really unhealthy. I skip actual meals but stuff my face with Cheetos and candy. I never ever exercise. And I wonder why my body image is such shit??
I want to change. Obviously I want to lose weight but also I don’t want to end up with like diabetes or something like that. But ED has had me trapped in this binge-restrict-binge cycle for so long that I don’t know any other way of being.
I want to trust that my body will even out and my weight will stay stable bc even tho I won’t be restricting I also won’t be binging. But what if it doesn’t even out until I’ve gained 10-20lbs? Can I accept that as my new normal?? I honestly don’t think so.
But god how much more energy would I have if I was healthy and didn’t spend so much time obsessing about food and calories and weight.
So I just got back from vacation, on which I gave myself free reign to enjoy eating/drinking whatever. I theory, that should make me not want to binge, right? So how come within a day of getting back – and I haven’t even gone back to restricting yet – I’m sitting here binging on a whole tube of cookie dough? It wasn’t even good! I have a stomach ache and want to purge so badly but my husband is in the living room which is right next to the bathroom and I’m afraid he’ll hear me. Honestly, I’d purge a lot more frequently if the bathroom was on a different floor. Him hearing me is usually the only thing stopping me.
So now I’m trying to study and all I can think about is the calories. I don’t remember where I heard or read this, but a long time ago someone said that an ED is like an excuse; it’s not that I can’t do this because I’m not smart or whatever but just because I’m spending all my energy on ED. Although, it also goes the other way – I’m not smart enough for this so I might as well give in to ED. Ugh.
I’m fucking 30 years old; I shouldn’t be having the exact same thoughts and problems as I had when I was 17. WTF.