I have been so distant lately. Here…in my life…in my treatment. It’s like there is this glass barrier blocking me but I don’t know what it’s about. I don’t know why I don’t have the power to smash it to pieces and get it out of my way. All I know is that it makes me feel desperate and the only thing I can think to do is go back. I keep telling myself that it was easier when my weight was lower. I was happier. I don’t feel so twisted up inside all of the time. I could get dressed without wanting to have a meltdown most days. Something tells me though that I am making a little bit of that up because if it had of been true, why did I start recovery in the first place? Why did I put myself through all that I have if it wasn’t that terrible? Those are the questions that I don’t want to think about but it’s clear that I’m not supposed to ignore them. Maybe they are my self-preservation thoughts…maybe they are the ones that are keeping me alive right now. Everyday I tell myself that it’s possible I could lose just a little weight. I’m a little over my target. It wouldn’t be disastrous. Yet I don’t think I would be able to stop. Isn’t that part of the problem? That we don’t know when enough is enough and we think we can keep removing more of ourselves until we’re dying. I hate that I know that. I want to feel comfortable in my own skin for once and it’s not happening, no matter how much I try to convince myself that it’s fine. It’s not fine.
Cue mini rant.
My Mum and Sister keep saying it’s good that I have shape now. I get weight jokes from people who don’t know better. None of my clothes look right on me and I don’t feel nice in anything. My boobs hurt all the time. I don’t know what to do with them. It is a genuine issue. I’ve always had large breasts from pretty early on and they are always the last place I lose weight and the first place I gain but my skin and muscle is not used to them being this size again and it’s uncomfortable. There is a lot of general self loathing right now which goes beyond my weight. Suddenly my hair is wrong and unmanageable, my skin keeps breaking out in spots. I feel like I’m 15 again! I’m far too old for this shit now. This is why it is advisable to probably not turn to an Eating Disorder in the first place. There will never be a good outcome and yet even as I type those words I find myself trying to hear myself yet having my mind wanting to make myself less.
This cycle is exhausting.
I hope your day has been kind to you.