I’m Fine. Sorta. Kinda. Maybe Not… No. No I’m not.

It’s hard to believe that I have an eating disorder. It’s one of the ways that anorexia gets you is by convincing you you’re fine. You don’t have to eat very much. You can work out all day and eat a few carrot sticks and be fine.

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And then when I talk about it and others don’t really believe me you can imagine how that makes me feel. It’s hard enough for me to admit that I have a problem and then my hand gets slapped “No you don’t.”

Yes. Yes I do.

I’m honestly not sure where I am at with recovery. I feel like I restrict less but that’s partially because I have my “safe” containers. My exact portions. And if I don’t use that container and force myself to eat all of it I will eat maybe a quarter of it. If I study I will “forget” to eat but I didn’t really forget to eat I just am used to hunger.

As far as my problems go hunger is the easiest one to live with. It helps me not pay attention to things like the rape or the losses or school or having to move 7 times in one year from Hawaii to California to all over in Hawaii. From memories of being in the hospital. From flinching away from ambulance lights flashing. From nights filled with horrible nightmares and waking up hour after hour wanting to just cry and never sleep again. It helps me with grief too. I feel like I am only just starting the real grieving process for the deaths and losses of 2016 a few months ago and it’s a lot to handle.

When I’m hungry I can focus on my day to day instead of having the constant tidal wave of mood swings I normally have.

And then later I black out but I convince myself it’s normal to black out like that. It’s normal to look at myself in the mirror and think about how fat I am and to punish myself for eating. To be so terrified of a binge that if I eat two brownies I freak out for the next week. I keep looking at my food logs and I used to eat even less but thing is now I see that as small, but I’m pretty sure I’m not eating any better. It just seems like more to me.

To be anorexic and touch deprived is kind of like looking through a glass window, watching a big, happy family eat a Thanksgiving dinner together. You’re hungry and cold and alone out there but they don’t let you in. They can’t even see you fading away through the cold glass. And you watch them delight in food, delight in each other’s company, savor the richness of every pleasure.

And you stand outside. With nothing.

I feel so isolated from people around me, especially the Tongans and Samoans because they really do not understand eating disorders. Americans tend to have some education about it because it’s so “popular” among our young women and that is awful and needs to change, but thus it is, I’m sitting here thinking about my eating disorder alone and the people around me don’t even know what the word anorexia means. As much as I love them, I really feel alone.

It’s so hard because I don’t look anorexic. Noone does, really, except for the ones who are really, really bad and need to be in the hospital. Those are the ones that we can see easily. But people of any size, shape, gender, or ethnic background can be anorexic. Anorexia doesn’t discriminate. She’s very liberal.

I have a weigh-in next week and every time I think about it I get really really upset. Because part of me just wants to quit seeing doctors and quit logging my meals that I wish I hadn’t eaten. Wants to stop eating again. Skip meals again.

I consistently follow my meal plan. But last Saturday I had dance for 2 hours and then didn’t eat breakfast and didn’t eat lunch and had two snacks instead and two brownies, which I was about ready to kill myself over. And then by afternoon I just craved pizza. And I ate 2 of the small Digiorno’s pizzas because I was so hungry. I ate one and then I waited for an hour but I was still hungry so I ate the next one. In fact that’s one of the only times I ever ate where I actually felt completely full because I don’t eat to fullness. I eat until I’m almost full. And then I give up. Feeling full was a really weird sensation for me. I think I’ve been going hungry more than I realize. And that terrifies me too because I need my leg healed and I need to stay out of the hospital. I can’t do all the things I want to do if my eating disorder drains my life away, I just can’t.

On a day with two workouts I am hungry for the entire day. I follow my meal plan but I’m starving but I’m terrified to eat off the meal plan. And if I have junk food, which I have been having more of because the vending machines are my friend, I get sick. And I’m never sure if it’s the anorexia or if it’s that my body likes healthy food and it is rejecting my non-nutritious choices and throwing them back at me like “EXCUSE ME? Did you really just put that in my mouth? No sistah. You want me to repair that leg? You eat bettah. Or else.”

I feel like I’m trapped in my body. Like I’m trapped in my illnesses. And it’s these entrappings that wind so subtly around every aspect of my day to day and I’m so used to it that I don’t remember what it was like before.

I know this is a more depressing post than usual but I told someone yesterday about the anorexia and they didn’t really respond. I don’t think they believed me. And on top of that I have midterms next week and I’m moving and I’m feeling some of that depression.

I think this is the last week that supposedly those meds are in my system. But hey, life’s not all bad. I found this awesome video that really sums up what it’s like to see a therapist in a humorous way. It’s awfully funny.

One comment

  1. I really liked this post. I found it so hard during weight restoration / hyper-metabolism to not give in to my eating disorder’s strongest thought – hunger is good, and eating is bad. Have hope, even though it’s shitty and everyone says it, as someone who 100% understands all the ups and downs of not eating / binge eating / being scared to eat over meal plan even when hungry ALL THE FUCKING TIME, and struggling with the dance environment which can sometimes be helpful. Have hope lovely xx

    Like

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