On Thursday I found myself stepping on a scale, we do not own one in our house but my aunt is renting her house so she gave away most of her stuff and the scale isn’t ours to keep we just collected it for my uncle who’ll collect it and a bunch of other stuff this weekend.
Anyway there I was naked and about to do something something I hadn’t done in almost a year. I know some eating disorder sufferers are obsessed with weighing themselves doing it multiple times a day but I steer clear of scales, I just judge my weight by how this one pair of jeans fit me, the military green skinny jeans. If I feel fat I’ll try them on, if I want to track my progress restriction wise I’ll try them on.
Breathing heavily, hands slightly trembling, door locked… face to face with my enemy, I opened my eyes to see what the number was and it was a number which if my doctor saw he’d frown and ask what was wrong. I’m not anorexic anymore that’s for sure but according to the experts my height vs my weight = underweight!
I am so disappointed, I wish I never climbed on that stupid scale because I’m obsessing more than I was before and I didn’t even know that was possible.
Yesterday was a nightmare, I binged and purged twice then I threw myself on the couch after the whole ordeal and my body started feeling funny, I was shaking and my forehead was sweating. I then decided to take a nap at about 2pm only to wake up at 4:39pm feeling sick and faint. At this point I started to panic so I grabbed some milk and drank 500ml of full fat milk, gross I know. I felt even worse after that but I managed to regain some strength.
Oh did I mention our new microwave has a shiny door and you can see your reflection in it, I hate seeing my reflection. It’s like the universe is constantly reminding me of how gigantic I am.
It’s 11:32am on a Saturday afternoon and today is going great ED wise, I had my slimming tea and think I’ll have an apple and a diet coke, veggies and chicken for dinner. I refuse to slip up, not today.
I’m not going to step on the scale that would just cause a lot of unnecessary turmoil and would probably trigger me into a hideous binge fest and to be honest I’m not in the mood for self-destruction. Self-destruction as a mood? I guess so, a mood you go into involuntarily because sometimes because of all the awful thoughts swirling in your head, the feeling of nothingness and hopelessness there is nothing to do but self-destruct in the hope that it’ll alleviate some of the issues but it doesn’t or maybe it does but only temporarily and once you’re done (self-destructing) you feel 10000 times worse and you vow to never repeat it but you do over and over again and again.