Eating Disorder Woes

Hello, everyone!  I have a few announcements!  First off, Kuma-chan has expressed interest in making a wordpress so she can comment.  I told her I don’t care what she does because I’m not going to dictate her life.  Her concern was getting involved here in my ‘private place’ or something like that.  Again, she may or may not make a wordpress, it’s her choice.  I personally think it would be nifty.

Second, it’s still hot as balls and humid, although not as humid as yesterday, but hotter.  Therefore, copious amounts of caffeine has been consumed for the sake of being able to breathe.  Fun fact: Caffeine, particularly the caffeine that is in hot black coffee, helps open the bronchial airways and abate asthma symptoms.  I have doctor’s orders to drink coffee.  It’s pretty awesome.

Lastly, I am an idiot.  A week or so back, I realized that my ear kept getting all blocked and full of ear wax.  Since warm water helps soften ear wax, I thought putting the shower on full heat (child safety shower, it doesn’t get first degree burn hot) and spraying it in my ear would be a good idea.  It was not and my ear has been getting more and more painful and a wee bit swollen.  So now I have to go to the doctor for that.  Also because I stick things like tweezers and tiny scissors to scratch itchy spots in my ear.  No blood no worries does not apply to the ear, if anyone is wondering.

Today, I wanted to talk about my eating disorder a bit.  I mentioned it previously, but I don’t think I ever got really in depth with it beyond that body dysmorphia post.  So I want to start off with a small explanation of my own disordered eating.  I was going to Nifty Eating Disorder Treatment Place (NEDTP for short) but I opted out because I couldn’t handle that and DBT shit at the same time.   I was getting treatment for EDNOS, eating disorder not otherwise specified or whatever the kids are calling it these days.  I don’t binge, but I did tend to purge and restrict.  Now I just restrict.

I’m starting to really hate looking in the mirror.  I have lost so much weight that I don’t even recognize myself anymore.  I went from 260 last year to 175 now.  I’m no longer obese, just overweight.  A huge factor for this is my fucked up relationship with food and also breaking up with Exacerbating Ex.  As soon as the weather and my asthma permits, I’m going to go back to training for that 5k again.  I probably won’t be able to do any real running (more of a pathetic attempt at jogging) until August.  It is only slightly depressing.

But what really bothers me is the way I allow numbers to rule my life, especially in regard to my eating disorder.  I step on the scale at least twice a day, currently.  Yes, I used to do it a lot more than that.  I also used to have 2 scales.  Once I get a new food scale, I’m going to go back to weighing my food like an obsessive little twat.  I count calories and avoid certain “danger foods” and all that.  It’s tiring and I hate it.

Most days, I will only eat around 800-1000 calories a day.  Which is super  not healthy at all.  Other days, I might not eat anything and just drink copious amounts of caffeine.  I have an addiction to caffeine.  I digress.  When I go through my days without counting calories, when I attempt to free myself from the allure of those numbers, I get extremely anxious.  And that bothers me.

What really gets me about all this, it isn’t the actual numbers or the fact that I can now fit into clothes from high school or that I keep having to buy new clothes.  It’s that I still feel really fat.  I look in the mirror and I focus on the pudgy cheeks, my bingo wings, fupa, thighs, calves, stomach.  Those things I still see as enormous and as unattractive as I did when my ED reared its ugly head again back in 2014.  Despite going from a size 26 to a size 13/15 (perfectly reasonable size), I still see myself as fat and ugly.

One of my favourite jokes to tell people is that obesity runs in my family because no one runs in my family.  And it’s true.  Me mum and me uncle both had gastric bypass surgeries.  Okaasan is still death fat.  My grandpa had type 2 before he passed and my other aunts and uncles are obese too.  We’re not a very healthy family.

When Bitch-Face, an ex-friend of mine who I was sadly obsessed with in high school and my first failed year of college, unfriended me, she said that I was going to end up as fat and as useless as me mum.  Now, while I can call Okaasan fat and useless, she is my mother to insult and no one else has that right.  But Bitch-Face hit me where it hurt.  I was terrified of becoming fat.  Then I did.

Let me tell you, drugs and alcohol are bad if you have an addictive personality.  From 2012 when I had my ankle surgery to last November/December, I was high on prescription pills almost constantly.  I drank a lot, but not necessarily alcoholic levels and I never really liked drinking much.  My personal view on liquor didn’t matter because I was living with an alcoholic and drug addict.  I really believe that if I had left Exacerbating Ex earlier, I would have gotten clean earlier.

I gained a lot of weight because of my surgery and the drugs making me not as active as before and the empty calories that are in alcohol.   So when I decided to become clean, the pounds started shedding off and the alcohol and drug fueled fog lifted and I saw myself for what I truly was.  A fat fuck.

I was very active in my eating disorder last year.  This year, I’m being more careful with it.  I’ve stopped purging because I began to restrict more heavily.  Contrary to what I want to believe, the harder I try and control my food, the more my eating disorder controls me.  I want to be able to look in the mirror and think that I look good.  I don’t like posting selfies for my friends so that I can get the compliments from them that I should be giving myself.

I got a letter today from Nifty Eating Disorder Treatment Place informing me of their new appointment guidelines.  I feel like such shit about myself I’m seriously considering going into intensive outpatient or inpatient.  Eating disorder therapy every other week and seeing their dietitian once a month did nothing for me.  I did nothing for me.  I’m not sure I want to yet because I keep telling myself just 20 more pounds and then I can get help.

What if 20 more becomes 20 more?  And 20 more beyond that?  My doctor says 145-150 would be a good low weight goal and not to go beyond that for health reasons.  I’m told my weight right now is just fine, despite still being in the overweight category.  I’m being told lots of things about my weight and my looks and my food habits and how everyone is so proud of me or jealous because I don’t even look the same as I did.

I feel like if I go into treatment now, before I reach my goal, it’ll be the same as giving up and everyone will be disappointed in me.  I’ll be disappointed in me.  I say to myself, even now, because of this fucking plateau (fuck you plateau) “Fucking Christ, you can’t even accomplish this one thing you fucking twat waffle.  What good are you anyway?  Why haven’t you gotten there yet? Stop being such a fat fuck and put down the fork.”

The negative self-talk I give myself is very tiring and very scary.  I’m always putting myself at such high standards and then epically failing them.  It’s maddening, how perfectionistic I can get.   And this is not how a Life Worth Living looks.  At all.  This is 50 shades of not okay.

And it’s times like this that make me really hate myself.

-The Sarcastic Autist

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4 thoughts on “Eating Disorder Woes

  1. I wish I had some wisdom to offer for this, especially given my college studies in nutrition. A part of me says I should have some magical answer to solve all of this, but I don’t.

    The only thing I can try to suggest is to try to work on self-compassion. Try to remind yourself that you are working towards wellness, not a number. Numbers can always shift and change – especially when you always view yourself as imperfect – but if you aim for wellness there comes a point where you can find a balance and hold the line. It’s a always a work in progress. You will have good days. You will have bad days. But when you find your line, you can hover around it on both the good days and bad days. Then overall you’re doing pretty good.

    Struggling with body image issues suck and are hard to reconcile with. I do understand what it is to not love your body. It doesn’t help that my medication kills appetite and I have to make myself eat.

    Liked by 1 person

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