It feels like everyone I know is shrinking. I run into people I haven’t seen in a while and they are smaller or on some kind of diet or talking about their weight loss. It’s hard not to find it triggering or throw a full-scale tantrum that they are losing weight and I don’t get to anymore. It’s not like someone else even made that decision for me, maintaining is my choice just as reaching a healthy weight was. Yet there are days that I doubt whether I made the right one. Most days I think about going back even though I know that it will never feel or look like I want it to. It’s hard to stay here when it makes me feel so uncomfortable. My nurse came to see me yesterday and we talked a little about what I wanted, she asked me If I was in the headspace of wanting and actively trying to lose weight. I’m not. I can’t remember what I said to her but it was about the reality of the situation, that I have been through the cycle of losing weight and regaining enough times and that I am tired of it. The only place it ever got me was an inpatient bed and I’m not keen on repeating that experience again. Why it is so hard though? To know what you want in the grand scheme of things but think all the little steps leading up to it are wrong. Will eating ever feel ok? Will I ever stop measuring my worth and my level of self-hatred based on a number or the size of my body? Will I ever wake up in the morning and not have to fight the tears because I can’t bear who or what I’ve become? I don’t miss Anorexia. I don’t miss starving myself. I don’t miss how physically horrendous I felt all the time. What I do miss though and what I think I am grieving for is this idea that I had for so long, which was that this disorder was the answer. This was going to make me become a person I was ok with. I miss believing that by simply changing my body, I could change me internally. I miss an idea that wasn’t even real.
Definitely one of the harder days in recovery.
I hope your day has been kind to you though.