Back in the Day

The other day I read a post by Elle, and it brought me back to the days of when I was completely entrenched in my ED, memories of being a fat kid, and then my recovery. This isn't a bad thing. Her post solidified I was not the only one thinking, "Some of these blogs aren't real." Not that they don't exist, but the authors are either those hoping that enough restricting, dieting, and I HATE this word, but "pro ana" talk will get them thin and happy as a clam. It's a disease. A serious mental illness that NO ONE should want to have, and if you just 'try' to get it, you never will. You're either hard wired to develop this sickness or you aren't.

Because when you do have an ED, you really, truly, 100% don't believe you do, and you don't want to think you do, because that means you are sick and need help. It's such a crazy feeling, to know you've lost a lot of weight, but not even see it. You see the numbers, the difference in your clothes. But you don't believe the weight is gone. You aren't satisfied. You aren't thin yet. WHY IS EVERYONE TELLING YOU YOU'RE TOO THIN AND YOU AREN'T? I must be going crazy. It feels like this, at least for me. Living in a body that was on the verge of obese, and then not, it's like phantom excess weight is there and won't get out of your head.

This revelation didn't come to me until I plateaued, at 119lbs. I consistently was going down, every time I weighed myself, and during that time it was effortless, due to my busy schedule and healthy dietary changes (By this time I can look back and see I was becoming if not already, a hard core othorexic.) Once I stopped loosing at that weight, went up a little, 120, 121, 120, 119, 122, etc but not going down, I went into panic. Mania would be a better word. I got anxious around food, afraid magically I would wake up in the morning with all the weight I had lost back on my body. I was told I was way too thin, but never believed it. I would smoke weed to relax, and I got so relaxed I would say fuck it and eat. I would eat a lot. It was an excuse to eat. After the high was over, panic set in and then began my use of laxatives. This continued, as well as restricting. I had just finished school, was working and it hit me that I was officially in adulthood. My life 24/7 revolved around what I was eating and how I looked. It came first.

I stopped smoking and just did hard core restricting. I was self employed as a massage therapist, not working too many hours. This was not so bad as I had won the lottery that fall ($5,000). My goal weight of 116lb came. I remember weighing myself, expecting a huge epiphany of "OMG awesome this is great, I'm now content in life and can be happy." The first thought after seeing my achieved weight goal, was "Alright but now I need to loose 5lbs more." And then a rush of anger came over me. Why aren't I happy? Why isn't this good enough?

The winter of 08' I rewarded myself with that weight goal accomplishment with a huge binge. A binge of nasty food I would have never touched. I ate so much to the point of extreme pain and knew laxatives would not relieve me fast enough. I knew I couldn't purge as I have tried it before, my emotions were so intense I tried anyways. And it worked. I was relieved, and then I started crying. I thought 'well now I have an excuse to binge, I don't want that!' I gained weight with B/P, which pissed me off. When I decided to move into my own apartment, thinking this would help, I weighed 124lbs. I isolated, ate, puked. Long story short I put myself in the Inpatient program for Eating Disorders, not because I knew I had a problem, but because I wanted to stop gaining weight. How sad is that? Part of me wanted to get better, but part of me just wanted to get my binging/purging gone so I could stay thin.

I had confessed my hell of a eating disordered life to my step mom, months before moving into my apartment, and started therapy then before my hospitalization. As of Last March of 09' I ended with therapy, a total of over a year with that.

This blog is as Elle has stated, to keep myself in check. Not to get sick, not to preach recovery, and not to turn into a fat glutton. I'm still scared of being fat, not in control. This blog is unlike my previous one, which was recovery,recovery,recovery, and it got to the point that I felt all 'recovered out'. It's not that I'm not in recovery because everyday I have to make the choice to not binge, purge, not use laxatives, and to eat. I feel without blogging/networking I may loose my mind at times. My last blog feels tainted with the mentality of not being able to slip up. I want to loose weight and I feel talk of weight loss on my old blog and with my followers/readers is not good for them in their recovery, and would be triggering. That blog itself became a trigger for me, and I needed a change.