Let’s play a game, Crazy or Normal?
*I mention a number in here, so don't read if you think this might trigger you. Please stay safe!
Eating an entire bottle of candy sprinkles meant for a cake
Worrying about the calories in a vitamin chew the next day
Eating three bowls of oatmeal one day
Throwing out oatmeal the next day because it’s too caloric
Wiggling a foot for the caloric burn
Refusing the gym because “it’s hopeless” anyway
Yeah . . . File under crazy. I am a reasonably intelligent woman. I have my master’s degree, not that that matters in intelligence, but I had to have my shit together to get it. I can talk politics with the best of them and I am informed on a wide variety of subjects. But I do these behaviors that make ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE. It’s crazy-making.
P.S. This is going to be a post that is all over the place, so forgive me. 🙂
Yesterday, I found Gwyneth Olwyn’s blog and got a wee bit obsessed. See, I’ve never considered myself a restrictive eater–I’ve considered myself a binge eater who restricts to SOLVE A PROBLEM. How many of you have had a similar thought; your ED says, “This is just until you hit this weight. We’re problem-solving because we’re smart!” Uh-huh. I’ve never been underweight, so therefore, I can’t be a restricter. Never mind the fact that I lost a stupid amount of weight in 6 months, overexercised until I passed out, and had a nice little starvation hospital stay. I calculated to the calorie point how much I would need to workout per week to lose 6 pounds a week. And I did it. And almost died. But you see, says ED, you had to SOLVE A PROBLEM.
According to Gwyneth, I would be an Anorexic Athletica. At least I was when I could be, which was before I broke my ankle (a break, mind, that came from lack of nutrition over the last year). During these last two months when I can’t really do anything, I have gained weight. And the familiar panic has set in and I’ve started restricting. My mind is screaming “it’s not enough it’s not enough it’s not enough!” without the exercise. But I have no choice but to sit here. What scares me, though, is I can feel the rigidity set in. You know when it happens. This was shown to me in bas relief last night.
I decided to tell on my ED and to talk to my boyfriend about what has been going on in my head. I love the man, but more times than not, he happens to say the exact wrong thing accidentally (I mean, unless you’ve had an ED, it’s so difficult to know what to say!). When I told him about my mind-screams lately, we somehow got into the subject of paying bills and my school loans . . . and eventually to my tears because I felt useless and worthless. He felt terrible! But ED grabbed on to that whole conversation and the fact that he only said once that he was attracted to me still and I felt the concrete settle. So when my boyfriend asked me if he could go get anything at the store for me so that I could have snacks for tomorrow, I said no. When he said he was going to take the scale away, I had a full blown panic attack. ED is moving in. But only, you know, to SOLVE A PROBLEM.
I’m glad I told my boyfriend because it’s time to fight, dammit. Even if I am having panic attacks. Even if I am not at my ideal weight and I am crawling out of damn skin. I’m so very tired of these voices. These mean, mean voices I would NEVER even think of someone else. I’m tired of walking in a grocery store, spending three hours in there, and walking out with a red pepper. I’m tired of feeling hungry and I’m tired of feeling too full. Today, I fight!
TO SOLVE A PROBLEM. So, booya, ED! 🙂