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.
The worst part about being a well-educated person with an ED is I know how goddamn stupid it is. I know that heavy restriction will eventually lead to binging and regaining the weight, and I know I’m losing mostly muscle and gaining mostly fat, and I know I’m probably less metabolically healthy than a lot of people with 40lbs on me, and I know eating 500cals of fat-free candy is actually worse than eating 800 cals of real food cooked in olive oil, and I know that purging won’t get rid of all the calories, but I can’t shake the need to engage in these behaviors. I understand that it’s not physically possible to gain 10lbs of actual fat overnight, but that doesn’t make me obsess over the possibility any less. I acknowledge that my weight is less than that of most Americans, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling like the fattest personality in the room. And then I feel stupid and ridiculous because I know that I can educate myself all I want but it won’t matter because ED isn’t logical or rational and doesn’t care how smart I might be. Worse yet, I know that eventually ED will take my mind too because the brain doesn’t care what size my pants are if that means it doesn’t get the nutrition it needs, but ED is just the opposite.
It’s been a really weird day and it’s barely noon.
This morning I saw a post from a Facebook group I’m in, in which a woman asked if she would gain 10 lbs from her binge the night before. I immediately commented that 12 years of therapy has taught me that she will not, no matter what ED says. Then I had a low-carb breakfast and went on my way, feeling like maybe I was getting better after all.
Then I got to work. It’s one of my coworker’s birthdays, so there are cupcakes sitting in the middle of the office for us to just take. I was like, what the hell, I like cupcakes, and I had one. And then I felt shitty, physically. TBH, I’ve been restricting a lot lately and not eating any added sugar, so I think my body was just in shock. But I sat around feeling icky and eventually was like what the hell, let’s have another – that old black and white thinking kicking in, equating any “bad” food with a ruined day.
So then I’m sitting here feeling like a fat pig when one of my coworkers, who I had kind of a fling with 10 years ago, came up to say goodbye before he moves across the country. I’m not sure how to act and so it’s super awkward. Then he leaves and I’m feeling like I fucked that up, and combined with the cupcakes I couldn’t deal with my feelings anymore and decided to purge. But I couldn’t. I stood over that toilet jamming a pen into the back of my throat for at least five minutes and only got the tiniest little bit out. It’s like my body was desperately trying to hold onto the calories.
When I got back to my desk I realized that I probably just hadn’t had enough water today, which always makes purging difficult. So I drank some water. And now I have a stomach ache and would like to try to purge again but I decided to write this blog post instead. No promises that I won’t change my mind in 15 minutes, but it’s a start.
I was going to eat lunch today but I guess now that I’m full of cupcakes I can’t. I’m not going to stuff myself further; then I’ll definitely need to purge. Ironically, I’m sitting here thinking I’m gaining 5 lbs after two cupcakes, four hours after telling the woman on FB that she wouldn’t. What a hypocrite. At least I was able to make the connection between eating sugar and feeling shitty; maybe that’ll keep me from giving in to temptation next time. *sigh*
Right before class ended (actual class, not finals), I was down to my wedding weight. Now I’m terrified to get on the scale, so I don’t have an exact number, but even my fat pants are too tight so I’ve got to be up 10 lbs.
Luckily the new year starts next week and I go back to class, so hopefully I’ll be able to shed this weight in a month – it’s no longer holiday season so there won’t be that pressure to eat sweets constantly, and I can go back to black coffee for dinner instead of peppermint mocha lattes and all that (delicious) sugary holiday shit.
I wonder if my husband notices? Not that he’d have any right to say anything; he’s gained like 50 lbs in the decade we’ve been together. But does he see my love handles and pouchy belly and jiggly arms and bat wings? I know he’s not into fat chicks, but where does he draw that line? And how thin can I get before he starts to get on my case about eating? God I wish I was a mind-reader.
But anyway, the New Years’ weight loss plan is nothing new. My concern is what happens when the spring semester ends and I’m back home all the time again. Will I just gain it again and be fat until the fall? Will the cycle ever end? Can’t I just find a happy medium and stay there? I honestly feel like I maintained my weight better when I was b/p-ing every day; at least then the net intake was approximately consistent. Now I’m rarely puking (although I did this afternoon, after eating half a sleeve of Girl Scout cookies) but I’m either ingesting 5,000+ calories a day or I’m restricting to 800. This is not sustainable! But when the alternative (daily b/p-ing) is even more harmful, what do I do? I’d rather be sick than fat.
ED is so fucked up.