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.
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.
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.
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.
I try to enjoy it; I really do. I even start to feel festive by the time I wake up thanksgiving morning. Unfortunately, by the time I’m laying in bed that night, as now, I loathe both the holiday and myself. Why can’t I just eat a normal meal? Why do I get full so quickly on actual food but then have seven desserts? (Literally, seven.) I have zero desire to eat tomorrow and hope I can get to at least dinner without doing so. Thank goodness it’s back to a regular schedule next week and I can heavily restrict three days and at least skip lunch the other two. Also, I’ve got to get more exercise. My thighs are so squishy it’s horrifying. My sister got gastric bypass surgery recently so she gets full quickly and “can’t” eat dessert or other simple carbs. I wish bring morbidly obese wasn’t a requirement to get that. I need it as prevention, to physically stop me from stuffing my face whenever there’s food around. I was watching a drug documentary when I got home tonight and honestly for like an hour I was wishing I was still a drug addict so I’d be obsessing about that instead of just food all the time. My sister’s bestie is super tall and thin and is on the ketogenic diet, which everyone accepts for some reason. I stopped eating meat a decade ago with no issue; maybe I just need to start telling everyone I don’t eat sugar or something so the fear of being called out will keep me accountable. Hmm…
I had a relapse the other day – full on b/p, like the old days. Donuts, chips, crackers, chocolates, really anything I could get my hands on. I was trying to figure out what triggered it, but all I can come up with is that I’m just sad. In general, all the time. I miss my bestie who moved across the country. I feel overwhelmed by school, and pressure to be perfect there. My general anxiety has increased to the point where I’m always convinced people are talking about me or mad at me or don’t like me. It gets dark early now so I almost never see the sun. B/p-ing is a way to distract from all of that, and on some level it gives me something to blame for my failures other than myself.
I think I need to up my medication. But I don’t like my new doctor. My old psychiatrist moved across the country, so I had to stop seeing her after like seven years together. This new one is older, and spent our whole first appointment looking at the computer screen and typing very formulaic info about me (that I can clearly see). I don’t feel like I can open up to her, or like she gives a shit anyway. She’s a little overweight and I feel like she doesn’t take my body dysmorphia issues seriously, like she’s thinking “this skinny bitch has no right to complain about feeling fat.” But maybe she’ll understand anxiety at least.
I wish I could move across the country w/ my bestie; it’s warm and sunny there all the time.
Just had an a-ha moment in regards to one reason why I binge. I’ve always known it has to do with feeling overwhelmed or out of control; it’s like a little way of saying “fuck you, I’ll eat all the things I’m not ‘supposed’ to eat just because I CAN.” But sometimes I don’t feel like that fits – I’m not doing anything really stressful; just sitting on the couch – until tonight when it clicked.
My husband is an alcoholic. We’ve had conversations and screaming matches, I’ve made graphs and bawled my eyes out, but nothing ever changes. And so I guess that aspect of my life is ALWAYS out of control, leading to random urges – urges that get irresistible when he’s passed out on the couch before 9pm. So tonight I binged on ice cream, chips, and bagels. I feel disgusted with myself both physically and mentally, but it’s slightly helpful to have figured out a piece of the puzzle.