I just realized something. Unconsciously, my eating disorder & weight manipulation are ways to show I’m hurting. The blog is a great substitute because it publicizes my shit without compromising my physical health. I know I sound like an attention whore, but I’m just being honest. It would be worse if I denied it.
As I write, I feel the urges slip away. It’s like magic. They’ll come back. But at least I have this outlet.
OH MY GOD if I didn’t have to weigh-in with Jan the week I get back I would TOTALLY let myself lose weight on this trip but I can’t cuz FUUUUUCK I have one, maybe two, more weigh-ins before I leave, and if they’re not “satisfactory” I’m going to wind up with a treatment team at NYU and I NEED FREEDOM, BITCHES!
FUUUUUUUUCK, just when I thought this was getting easier, just when I thought I was moving on, I’m SLAMMED with urges! It’s a dichotomy: I want health&wellbeing&happiness and I want diet&exercise&weight-loss at the same time. And for some people that’s a winning combination. But for me it’s just not.
You know how there are “functioning alcoholics”? Who do “controlled drinking”? That’s essentially what I want right now. Not emaciation, not weakness. But portion control, daily exercise. Sadly my lifestyle results in weight loss and I don’t have weight to lose.
God I’m so pissed at the shit I just wrote! I know I dropped some red flags but I truly am in a good place.
I could show you some shit. Real shit from when I was entrenched in my eating disorder. I have those journals. This is not it.
Recovery is bumpy, non-linear. It’s living with the voices and the urges and ignoring them. That’s what I’m doing here. You’re witnessing, firsthand, a day in the life of someone in eating disorder recovery. I’m sitting here with a needle in my arm, and blogging keeps me from injecting.
So yeah…I’ve got some shit to own:
I HAVE A COMPULSIVE EXERCISE PROBLEM!!!
I used to hit the treadmill daily for at least ten minutes. The treadmill was my church. And if I skipped it, well, I couldn’t focus, couldn’t sleep, and obviously couldn’t eat. When my parents surprised me with a brand new car, I was on minute 7 and refused to get off the treadmill to come see it. (That’s when my mom knew I had a problem). When Casey (old therapist) took the treadmill away, I thought I was going to die. I sound melodramatic, but I’m serious. I cried myself to sleep every night. The treadmill was my heroin.
Nowadays, I’m free to exercise. But I embraced that freedom a bit too hard. I started running for 30 minutes, combined with walking, stretching, pilates, swimming, working two jobs, etc. And I didn’t compensate enough, so my weight dropped. So now I’m doing the responsible thing and abstaining from running. Trying to scale back on my exercise overall, actually. At least for these next two weeks in Italy and my final two weeks before school. But it fucking hurts. It hurts how badly I want to exercise, how badly I want to run. Run, run, run, faster, harder, faster, harder, faster, HARDER, faster. So my legs wobble and my heart pounds and my pulse races and I’m high on endorphins and I collapse on my bed. It’s on my mind constantly. When am I gonna exercise, when am I gonna exercise, God I wanna exercise. It never goes away. I’m technically still allowed to exercise; no one’s told me not to. What they have told me, however, is that I’m at a critical point and I cannot lose any more weight. I don’t have to gain, but I HAVE to maintain. And in my core I know this, and in my core I agree with this. I can exercise carefully, as long as I compensate calorically, but my compensation skills are not quite up to snuff for the exercise I want to do.
Our society glorifies exercise and weight loss and shames those who don’t partake. And while I know that doesn’t apply to me because of my history I still feel like there’s an expectation to exercise daily and that failing to do so falls short of some standard and compromises my worth. I know I know I KNOW that everyone’s health needs are different and I so wish that society promoted overall health and wellbeing rather than weight loss as the ultimate goal. For some, weight loss is healthy. But for others it could result in serious health issues.
And I’ll be honest: for all my friends who are making lifestyle changes, I’m happy. But its extremely triggering. Listening to the diet and exercise talk and knowing I can’t partake is painful. I just want you all to know that when I don’t hop on the bandwagon, I’m not lazy and I’m not a failure. I simply have a problem and am being responsible. I’m taking care of myself, just like you are. So please don’t judge me for my lack of participation. Our needs are just different.
Well! Now that I’ve established that I’m NOT LAZY and that I’m aware of my problems, I can sail right along into another day of recovery…it’s a wild ride.
P.S.: Writing is lit for distress tolerance. 10/10 recommend.