It’s fair to say that I am having a pretty awful day, which is something considering that it’s not even lunch time and I haven’t left the house yet. So far I have cancelled my trip to the doctors to have my weight and blood tests done, gone through a ridiculous amount of outfit changes and then cancelled my lunch time appointment with my Health Support Worker. As the days pass lately, my body image seems to be getting worse. I cannot bear being in my own skin right now and have this desire to crawl out of it or change it. Everything makes me feel uncomfortable, my clothes don’t look right, my hair is wrong, my face is ugly. I am trying to figure out if what I am seeing is a true reflection or if my mind is trying to tell me something isn’t right. Yet I don’t know what that thing is. If I look at my life it seems fine to me. There is nothing that is upsetting or particularly hard right. There is not a situation that I want to avoid or run from. Plainly speaking, there is no need for Anorexia to be getting louder but it is. I don’t know how much longer I can keep ignoring the call that tells me to reduce myself.
I’m losing entire mornings torturing myself in front of the mirror. It hurts to look into it and I don’t know how I accept what I am seeing. Maybe it’s getting harder because I’m finally starting to grasp that all the weight restoration that I did isn’t temporary? Before the intention to lose weight when it was over was there. I could stomach it a bit better because it wasn’t going to be real or a long-term thing. This time it’s supposed to be though. This is the body that I am going to have to spend the rest of my life living in and every time I think of that, it’s like I’m being kicked in the face. There are so many more important reasons why I chose to recover and yet it’s hard to see what they are now or why they matter more. I know that weight is only one surface issue when it comes to an Eating Disorder but it is one I can’t seem to get past. Logically I know that I was miserable at a lower weight, that it didn’t fix me or made me acceptable but my brain wants to believe that it was at least better than this. Was it better than this?
Physically I am probably healthier than I have been in years. I’m not waiting anymore for a heart attack. I’m not ruining my bones or throwing my bloods out of whack. Why isn’t that enough? It’s just painful existing this way and I want to not care but dammit I do care! I can’t hate other people but for some reason I can’t let go of this self loathing which never seems to lessen. What is wrong with me? Why can’t I apply what I believe for other people to myself?
I can’t hide from the world forever. It’s not convenient.
I hope your day is kind to you.