I’m going to try not let the rage get away from me in this post. It was going well. So well!!! And then it felt like I was being slapped in the face repeatedly, and I know it’s probably an over reaction and I am still kicking myself as to why I thought it would be a good idea in the first place.
Let’s start from the beginning.
It didn’t start well, 6am war with the scales as usual didn’t leave me feeling exactly body confident. Truthfully I wanted to go back to bed and hide, stay there, an unmoving mess who never had to consider food again.
So many problems with that plan right?
I went to my mothers (I think you know what’s coming).
It was ok. I finally stopped saying I was fine through my clenched jaw and just told her I was having a really hard time with this continuing weight gain, which her response was that if I wanted to go to uni than I needed to do it. It was so dismissal, which flared up a whole range of emotions from time gone by. It was fine, I went for a walk up some pretty cool cliffs with my siblings before returning home for dinner.
This is where the problem starts, the fact that my mother had the crappiest portion ever, and all she could talk about was the fact that she had weigh in tonight at slimming world and she was so convinced that she had put on weight. With every sip of fluids it was mentioned. I was brushing it off pretty well I thought, having a laugh with the siblings and partners then it was time to leave.
I was intact.
Until, my mother asked me to drop her in at her slimming group. Which I agreed to, like an idiot. And then when she asked me to come in with her, again like an idiot I agreed to (she doesn’t stay, just gets weighed).
Have you ever felt like you were fresh meat in the desert and the vultures are circling you? That’s what I felt like.
The woman (who I assume was running the group) cut off her conversation with another woman and bounced over to see me.
“Are you here to join us?”
Yes I really want to join and get sucked back into this hell and kill myself in the process.
“Do you want to register?”
“You’re a little on the slim side?”
Ok wtf!! I knew it. I knew I didn’t have to gain weight. Please sign me up! Everyone’s been lying to me.
They weren’t pretty thoughts that I was having at that point. My mild curiosity got pounded out of me in such a small space of time. I realised I was jealous…and I thought if I was only a little slim than that means I could stand to lose a few lbs which means I can stop the increase, which means maybe…
No. My mum cut the conversation off with laughter saying that no I was not here to join, that I was just her daughter and in an overly loud whispered voice (Does that make sense?) that I was Anorexia (and no that is not a typo, it is what my mother says…not that I have it, but that I am the disorder itself.
Yes I was getting ridiculous at this point. Slightly hysterical as well. It wasn’t until my mother weighed in, lost weight and started nearly jumping up and down, telling everyone and then on the ride home she got me to add up all the lbs she had lost over the weeks to get a full total.
I felt sick. I screamed in the car all the way home over loud music.
Why do I do this to myself? When my recovery is already very fragile. When I’m having a shitty day with the whole body crap already.
Bloody slimming and diet groups. I wanted to scream at them all that this was bullshit, and then I wanted to yell at my mother that the reason she has lost so much weight quickly is not because she has been following the diet but because she restricts it, misses things out and fills up on fruit…
Do you know what the hardest thing to see was though? That look of just pure joy on her face when she stepped off the scale, a look of triumph…I miss it.
Even though I know it’s a bloody lie and empty and ridiculous. I still miss it.