Category Archives: Downer Day


I’m not great at dealing with changes that aren’t my decision. Which, really, covers a lot of changes.

Usually I can bring myself around to being ok with the changes given enough time, how much time is needed is really dependent on what the change is and how off guard it caught me.

Something else I’m not good at dealing with is people going away. I guess you could say I have abandonment issues. *rolls eyes* I’m usually pretty good at pulling away and cutting ties first, before the other person can, and that has always worked for me. Every now and then the other person manages to leave first and it reinforces to me how I have to be more diligent and make sure I am the strong one who is leaving, not the weak one who is left behind.

But there are two people, one who left but is coming back, and one who is leaving soon, that are part of my treatment team, and the changes are really fucking with me.

My case worker disappeared ages ago. So long ago I don’t even remember for sure when she left! It sort of didn’t matter, since I was seeing someone else one-on-one, and already set up for my next group. I really only see her at the end of an 8 week group where she and I have a debrief and she tells me what group I go in to next, or I guess I could reach out to her in distress or with a question but I never have. She was co-running the group I am in now so her leaving meant someone else came in, but it is someone I know and am used to so I didn’t mind that she was there. What I did mind was that a different doctor, let’s use the initial M for her, was all of a sudden everywhere. She was co-running the drop-in instead of my case worker, she was co-running my core group, she randomly phoned me one week to talk about the core group, she had someone else come speak to me after drop-in because of something I had written on a check-in form we fill out at the end of our weekly group session. Seriously, I can’t get away from M if I try, and it was like she was taking the place of my case worker, and I don’t like that.

I don’t like that she left. I don’t like that some other person seemed to just step right in and take over all her stuff. I don’t like that nobody tells us anything so I have no idea if or when she is coming back. She could be dead for all I know.

Then this past week I find out she is coming back in the next week or so…and it seems I don’t know how I feel about that. She just left, out of nowhere. And now she is just allowed to waltz back in and resume where she left off? Does this mean she is still my caseworker? She doesn’t even know what I’ve been doing these past months while she’s been away. I don’t know if I want to deal with her again because I have trust issues and it took a lot for me to tell her anything and trust her to what extent I had been able, and then she left, and now what, she’s back so I’m just supposed to automatically trust her again? Or still?

I dunno. It’s weird to me.

The other person, let’s call him B, is the counsellor I see for one-on-one sessions. He is technically a student, doing his practicum work, and he is done in three weeks. This is even more stupid, because I knew all along he’d be gone somewhere around April, I knew he wasn’t a permanent part of my treatment team, but he has also been the most helpful person to me, the most supportive person in my journey, my time with him has had more impact on my recovery than any of the other groups combined. Which is kind of funny considering I signed up to meet with him thinking I’d meet with him once, not like it, and back out but feel ok about it because at least I tried. But it turned out I didn’t mind talking to him, and in fact, my sessions with him have become a huge touchstone in my week and I will be lost without them.

I know he is leaving. I have always known he was going to leave. I didn’t think I’d get attached to him, but I did. And I don’t know what I am going to do once our one-on-ones are over. I know he isn’t a friend, he is my counsellor, but he is the only person I speak with, who doesn’t have an eating disorder, who knows I have an eating disorder, who I can talk openly with about whatever I want. I can tell him flat out I need help figuring out if something I am thinking is messed up or normal. I have had him pry information out of me on days I am shut down and not able to access my emotions. He has seen me confused, sad, pissed off, and I know that is his job, I know him being there and helping me through shit is because it is his career, not because we are friends hanging out, but I feel like I am going to miss having him around the way I miss having a friend around. There will be a noticeable absence in my life, my routine, and in this case, my mental health support system.

I don’t want him to go, even as I want him to graduate and go do awesome things.

I don’t deal well when I lose people. If they come back it takes me even longer to trust them again. When they leave it affects me not just on the surface, but right down to my core beliefs, because their leaving reinforces all the negative shit I feel about myself, all the negative outlooks I have on life, society, everything.

I know it is messed up. I know that I knew the whole time he would be leaving. I stupidly let myself get used to having him around and I actually started relying on him, and now I don’t know what to do. How am I going to cope? If it was anybody else leaving I’d be talking to him about how to cope but I can’t very well go to him about this. I can already feel myself shutting down as a defence, to help stop or block the hurt I know I will feel when he is really gone. I am getting moodier, more depressed, not laughing or talking as much, withdrawing from everything, getting more aggressive, more sarcastic, binge eating more, then restricting more. All sorts of things that are manifestations of how unhappy I am are popping up and I don’t really give a fuck.

I’m becoming more anti-social? Who cares, it is how I am normally anyways. This whole making friends thing was an anomaly that wasn’t going to last anyways.

I’m talking less? Participating less? So what, I don’t need people to talk to, or groups to participate in. I’m fine on my own, always have been, always will be.

I’m relying less on my support system? I should be. Support systems are for losers, for wimps, for cowards, who can’t face the world alone. I am alone, I am strong enough to take care of myself because I am the only one who will.

Deep down I’m confused and sad? Screw that. Bury those emotions, squash em down until you don’t feel them anymore, they are a waste of energy and make me weak.

I hate this. I hate that I used to not be aware of shit like this, I just was how I was, and now I am more aware but still completely incapable of handling the overload of emotions. So now I am overloaded on top of all the shit I am feeling, and vaguely aware that my coping mechanisms are not helpful to my recovery or to living a normal life, but again, don’t know how to not engage in them. So I’m aware that I’m sliding, but not equipped with enough skills to stop the slide.

This fucking sucks.


No one is watching me slide below street level

Barely alive


Do You Ever…

Do you ever have such a crap day that you feel sorry for your cat because he deserves such a better human than the one he got stuck with?

That was me yesterday. And still today.

I was spiraling over the past week but didn’t really notice. My descent in to depression was masked by my physical exhaustion caused by my new training schedule, working two jobs, and attempting to ya know, function like a normal person…by that I mean take out the garbage, wash dishes, the basics.

I got the shift I was supposed to work Sunday covered and I did nothing. I’m not exaggerating. I slept in, but not a good sleep. Got up. Made tea. Zoned out in front of YouTube. At some point made more tea, and continued with YouTube. I eventually switched to Netflix, so I guess that’s something. I had no interest eating but around 4:30pm figured I should probably take in something, so I had some soup, oh the excitement. *rolls eyes*

Eventually I showered and went back to bed.

I could feel the depression settled in my body, it was a physical weight I couldn’t escape. It was evident in my posture, my facial expression, my inability to think beyond how miserable I felt. There was nothing for me yesterday except misery. There wasn’t even any hope for escape from it, or motivation to move beyond it, it was everything I was, everything I thought I would always be.

I don’t know why it lifted a bit today, why I was able to function to some degree today, why I made it not only to work but also my drop-in group this evening. I didn’t make it to practice and I’m beating myself up about that immensely, but at the same time, I would not have been able to do any good out there and would have most likely injured myself from lack of focus and proper form.

Yesterday I restricted, not intentionally, it was just a by product of my depression. Today I have eaten two pastries, fries, and ice cream. Not all at once like when I binge though. It was spread out, so I guess it was consumed more like a normal person’s over eating, and not a binge? It was stupid. I didn’t want it, wasn’t feeling hungry, in fact was feeling kind of nauseous and not wanting sweet things, and yet, I ended up in a bakery. I hate myself. sigh.

I have no idea what tomorrow will bring. I only work one job tomorrow, so maybe I’ll be ok, but I do have two training sessions, so I’ll still end up physically exhausted, if not emotionally.

The depression is I, I am the depression. There is no escaping it, no true reprieve from it, just the knowledge that it resides in my bones, in my soul, in my brain, and will always be waiting to strike out and remind me who is really in charge.

Is It An ED Thing?

I haven’t been feeling well for a little while now, and it is pissing me off.

I am having all these disjointed symptoms that haven’t coalesced in to any one thing. By that I mean I haven’t come down with the flu, or a cold, or anything that I can point to and say “This is why I haven’t been feeling well, my body was trying to battle this bug.” I just have all these random things, that are leaving me feeling like crap.

I’m cold, all the time. I’m always cold but this is a deep in the bone, goosebumps always on my arms, leaving me feeling fragile, level of cold.

Except randomly during the night I wake up soaked in my own sweat (lovely image I know), so apparently night sweats are a thing my body does now.

I also have no appetite, shocking.

I’m tired, 24/7. I slept almost 9 hours last night and woke up exhausted. It took me 2 hours to get out of bed today, and the only reason I managed to force myself to get up was because I had to go to work.

I sprained my wrist…which ok, isn’t really a symptom, I’m just being whiny cause it hurts lol

My shoulder and arm and chest muscles are freaking killing me. I had two workouts in a row that focused on those muscles, not the wisest thing to do, but that was Wednesday and Thursday, and I am still paying for it. So not normal!

My energy level could be graded in the negatives, which I suppose ties in to the whole tired all the time thing.

I’m getting headaches and just sorta feeling blah.

Oh and the brain fog, I swear I am getting dumber by the day and my ability to concentrate has disappeared.

Today my throat was killing me, it still is but not at quite the same level.

I’m getting dizzy more often. It used to be I’d get dizzy when going up stairs at any speed but especially if I went quickly. Earlier today I leaned over to pick something up and when I stood up, dizzy.

My eyelashes are falling out faster than normal. *pout*

My “give a fuck” level is at rock bottom – that’s probably more of an emotional thing though, but I think it has gotten to where it is because I’ve been feeling like crap for so many days in a row now.

I’ve started getting these leg cramps that are so painful they make me cry and I have to muffle myself so I don’t make any noise. My leg muscle is so, what would be the word, clenched? Engaged? Whatever it is, that my foot is literally pulled up in to an extreme flexed position and I have to use my hands to try to force it back down to a normal angle, and fyi, doing that freakin hurts!

I can feel my heart, which sounds weird, I mean, if you focus on it anyone can feel their heart as it does it’s thing. But sometimes I can really feel it, like the sensation of my heart beating is somehow exaggerated, no, that isn’t the right word, more forceful maybe? Or maybe it is just that I am noticing it more at that moment?

Do you see what I mean? Some of the things on that list are more emotional or mental, so not really a physical symptom. Some of them are things that could be explained if my body was trying to fight off something and was tired from that extra work. Some of them are just stupid (sprained wrist for instance lol), and some just flat out confuse me.

I wonder if it is just too many things happening at one time and my body can’t keep up with all it has to do. Like, maybe my muscles still hurt because my body is busy trying to fight off whatever bug is making me feel tired and giving me night sweats and stealing my appetite that it just can’t deal with post-workout muscle rebuilding. And maybe my eyelashes are falling out because, well, I don’t know. But maybe the leg cramps are because I need more Vitamin C – years ago I was told to drink orange juice if I ever got a muscle cramp because the Vitamin C helps. I don’t drink juice but I could try taking a Vitamin C tablet. Maybe I should start taking a multi-vitamin again…

Before I get off on a tangent about vitamins…

I just don’t know. Maybe some of the symptoms are related to my ED, but how do I pull apart which are ED related and which aren’t. Even if I thought about going to the doctor I can’t very well show up with that list and expect her to do anything other than think I am crazy. That is a ridiculous list of things that aren’t even connected.

I’m pretty sure it is just a weird time where my body is dealing with a couple things too many and so it is struggling to take care of everything. And that can happen to anyone, whether they have an ED or not.

As a result of how crappy I was feeling today I got my shift covered tomorrow and I am taking a day off. I don’t normally have a day off, and to be honest, I already made walking / hiking plans for the afternoon – it is supposed to be a beautiful day and I don’t want to waste the sunshine! Though I never really feel that sleeping is wasting anything…and that is what I would be doing if I didn’t make plans…I’d be sleeping, probably all day, which is ridiculously lazy.

I don’t know where I am going with this post, not like I think some doctor is reading this and would provide me medical advice. It just helps me to write it down and send it out to the blogosphere sometimes.

Does anybody else out there have any symptoms like this? Or used to but doesn’t now? Just askin…ya know, for a friend. 😉


Today I had meal support and right afterwards I had my one-on-one session with my counsellor.

Today was kinda hard.

To start with I didn’t want to get out of bed. I’m tired. All. The. Time. I’ve been cancelling on people, calling in sick to work, “accidentally” not setting my alarm so I wake up too late to get somewhere so I then roll over and sleep some more, I’m just so tired.

Then there is the issue of carbs.

I love carbs.

I hate carbs.

I am supposed to be a low carb eater, that is how I present myself to the world at least, but when I binge I binge on carbs like you wouldn’t believe. Well, carbs and ice cream..and a crap ton of other stuff, but the main component is carbs. Man I love carbs *wistful sigh*

In front of people however, I do not eat carbs. Let me stress this for you so you understand how serious I am about this…I DO NOT EAT CARBS!

Except at meal support there is no option. I have to take a balanced meal with a protein, a fruit / veg, a dairy, and a carb…they call it grain, I call it carb.

The carb and dairy component are the hardest parts for me. I have figured out I can manage greek yoghurt with some fruit in it without too much issue but the carb, kills me every week. I keep trying different things, a dinner bun, a piece of bread, counted out crackers, two ingredient dough turned in to something. I absolutely refuse to eat rice, potato, pasta, starchy veg, a sandwich (takes two pieces of bread and I can barely manage one), or any other form of carb you can think of.

Today I tried a bran muffin that I made myself the night before. There was nothing wrong with it, tastes good, but I reeeeally didn’t want to eat it in that room, in front of people, or at all really. I would have been quite content to throw it away having never eaten a crumb.

Meal support is hard for me for a lot of reasons, the eating in front of people part, the time of day the meal is, having to eat everything within 20-30 minutes, having to eat so much in one sitting, not being able to leave right afterwards. I get in that room and I feel trapped by the people, the food, the choices in food I made, the clock, everything.

Today I was trapped by the muffin. I tried to convince the person running group half the muffin should be enough but nope, apparently it isn’t.

In the end I ate it, and have been dealing with the emotional fallout for the rest of the day.

Then there was my one-on-one session, which wasn’t too too bad. I like talking to him, but some weeks are harder than others and this week I had a specific thing I wanted to talk to him about (which I did) but I also wanted to ask him some questions but I ran out of time and couldn’t. Plus I feel like an idiot half the time, ok fine, all the time, because oh woe is me I have issues with food and need someone to talk to…when there are people starving, or in actual bad life situations, and here I am being a drain on the medical system. sigh. That may or may not be me minimizing my issues to try to guilt myself in to quitting recovery…something I suppose I should bring up to my counsellor at some point *rolls eyes* So yeah, today was one of those days where I feel like an idiot for my issues, plus I feel tired, plus I ate that fuckin muffin, what was I thinking making those??

And now it is late at night in my time zone, I never made it to the gym thanks to being sucked in to the Olympics and because I’m tired (I feel like I’ve written that a thousand times, sorry!), before I know it my work week will be ramping up again, and I dunno, life just seems harder today. Which makes me feel guilty because other people’s lives are so much worse I should just be grateful for what I have that is good and suck up the shitty stuff. Right? Maybe? I dunno.

I’m tired.

Today was hard.

I’m going to bed.

A Tad Worried

I shouldn’t be writing this, I should be showering and then going to bed. I work early and right after work I have group for two hours, then an hour break, then another group. sigh. By the end of the day I’m tired and it is vital I start the day with as much sleep as possible. Not that I sleep well…but that’s a whole ‘nother story! lol

In my family there is a loooooong history of cancer. Both my parents, both my Grandmothers, cousins, aunts, uncles, sometimes it seems like everyone. Except for the relatives that chose to not undergo treatment, most of them survived. I actually grew up thinking of cancer as a thing you get, you get medicine, you get better…like a cold or something. *rolls eyes*

Because of this, and because I am super pale, a natural ginger, and sunburn in approximately 5 minutes of direct sunlight, oh and genetics, I always knew one day I’d get cancer. Hell, after I sunburned my shoulders when I was in grade 5 my mom lectured me the entire time she was putting cream on my shoulders about how I was going to get cancer and die. I was so upset! I thought she meant right that minute I was going to get cancer, and I was upset not because I didn’t want to die but because I had made her mad and I didn’t want to die with her mad at me…oh the weirdness of a child’s brain lol

So I’ve always taken a relaxed attitude about the whole thing.

Buuuuut…last month I noticed a thing on my back. I’m not sure how to describe it exactly. It is brown, it is misshapen, it looks exactly like the things that get cut out of my mother’s back because they could be her cancer returning.


I ignored it for a while. Subtly pumped my mother for info about her cancer and treatment and her back things and what I learned wasn’t all that comforting.

So I did what I do best and I continued to ignore it.

I took a look at it in the mirror last Thursday night after I’d showered and realized it had gotten bigger, and more oddly shaped.


Friday between jobs I called my doctor and scheduled an appointment to have it looked at. The earliest I could get was this coming Tuesday, which is fine, not like I wanted to go in asap.

I hate doctors. I hate going to doctors. I hate talking to doctors. I hate doctors looking at me, poking and prodding me, sending me for tests, asking me questions. I feel like I am taking up too much space when in the exam room, too much time, I am in the way and should be super fast so someone else can come in. I feel like any question I have is stupid, any concern I want to raise a waste of time. I don’t want to be there. I also hate being touched. I can deal with being looked at when it is say, the doc looking at my throat, or in my ears, something like that. But when they get all “lift your shirt” I want to panic and run out the room.

Because of all this I rarely go to the doctor. It used to be a lot if I went once a year, I suckily go more often because part of my treatment program requirements is that I go once a month. I didn’t know that in the beginning so I never went, then I got busted, so I was going monthly for a while, I have subtly scaled back on that though.

Which makes it all the more annoying that I am willingly going on Tuesday.

Since I made the appointment my stomach hurts. I am nervous, scared a bit, just super uncomfie about the whole thing and I oh so badly want to cancel and pretend I don’t know this thing is growing larger on my back, and that there is a second one near my armpit.


I have two groups Monday. The first is a scheduled one that is part of my recovery about feelings. I don’t think it is the kind of group you bring something like this up in. The second group is drop-in and it is the type of group you can bring anything up in. But I don’t know if I want to bring it up. It isn’t like talking about it will make me feel better and I don’t wanna risk being pulled aside after group is over and talked to one-on-one by the docs running the group. Besides, it is probably me being a crazy person and nothing will come of it and if I say something and nothing comes of it then people will think I am a hypochondriac and never take me seriously again. But I don’t know how to handle the stress and worry.

I suppose I’ll handle it how I have been handling it since Friday, which is restricting. I can justify restricting because my tummy is so topsy turvey it doesn’t want food and when I do eat it hurts. Like how it hurt when I had ulcers, only I think this is a reaction to stress, not an ulcer forming.

Man, I hope it isn’t an ulcer forming, those suck.

I really should sleep, I’m so tired, but I have bad dreams and unsettled sleep, so not like sleeping will really help all that much.

Mostly, I think I just have to say the words out loud, and typing them here is like saying them out loud, sorta…

What if I have cancer?

There. I wrote it.

Deep breathe.

It’ll be fine. I’m worrying over nothing. The doc probably won’t even take a biopsy. She’ll take one quick glance, say I’m fine, and send me on my way.

That is my prediction for Tuesday afternoon. Let’s hope it comes true!

I Can’t Even…

Every Friday, without fail, I go to the gym. I don’t think it is an ED thing so much as it is a time slot that fits well with my schedule and it became a habit to go then. That and I enjoy it.

With my one-on-one counselling we decided to change my workout plan a bit because after some delving in to shit in my head we discovered that while my weight workouts are enjoyable and don’t seem to feed my ED the cardio part of my workout does feed my ED. So as a challenge I shortened my cardio.

It sucked. I hated it. I felt like I was cheating on my workout. But I did it. I didn’t die or get instantly fatter and well, maybe it was a thing I could do again.

Thing is, the past 2 Fridays I go to the gym, I work out, then the next day or two I am sick. I mean, I am sick already, I’ve been battling a bug (or possibly two) for a couple weeks now and it seems that every time I work out after work it flattens me for a couple days. I work weekends and can’t afford to keep missing work because I am kicking my immune system in it’s ass with my workouts. I was toying with not working out tonight after work, in an attempt to be self-caring and all that crap, ya know, baby the body in the hopes it finally gets healthy again…well, as healthy as it can get considering how I eat I suppose. 😉

I was leaning on the side of still working out, because I didn’t want to miss my Friday evening workout – the gym is nice and quiet, it’s the best workout of the week!

And then shit went down.

There is a swinging door at work with the tiniest window and massive blind spots on either side. I was just about to push the door open, so my left foot was up mid-step, when another staff member pushed the door from the other side, really really hard. It smashed in to my foot, pushed my toes back really far, and as a bonus spilled the just made cup of tea I was holding so I burned my forearm.

Just. Fucking. Great.

Do you know how much paperwork is involved when a staff member gets injured? I do because I’m usually the person handing it over to the other staff members when they get hurt and threatening them with me in their face at every moment of their next shift if they don’t fill it in asap and get it back to me.

I’m not worried about the burn, I sometimes self-harm (real winner of mental health over here!) and my chosen method is burning, so I know how to handle that just fine.

My foot though is another story. The more I walked on it at work the more it hurt. Even when I sat and rested it, it hurt. By the time I got home my limp was pretty impressive. I had a shower, propped my foot up, and have been babying it all night. It still hurts though, which sucks balls.

The bigger problem for me though is…I didn’t go to the gym.

Now, ok, part of me, a teeny tiny I think rational part of me, is saying it is fine I didn’t go. In fact it is probably good I didn’t go because I would have definitely made the foot worse.

The larger part of me is saying I am a failure for not going. If I was really dedicated, if I really wanted to get to my goal, if I really cared about my fitness levels, if I really wasn’t a loser, or lazy, or pathetic, I would have pushed through and gone to the gym. Now I might as well give up. I will be a lame ass next week and find a reason to not go then too I bet, because that is what I am, a lazy, disgusting, fat, weak, loser who was just waiting for an excuse to not work out that they can then use for weeks and weeks until it was like they never went to the gym. This is the beginning of the end. May as well give up now.

I couldn’t get my brain to shut up. It was circling with these thoughts, I couldn’t make them go away, I couldn’t fight them, all I did was believe in them. Whole heartedly, 100%, believe them.

So I ate.

I ate my feelings away. I squashed them down under ice cream and cookies. I ate and I ate and I ate and for a little while my brain was quiet. All the insults, all the stressing, all the fear, it all went away. Then after a brief, too brief, quiet moment in my head, it was all replaced by guilt over what I ate, shame over letting myself go, horror at how much I ate, disgust at how much of a pig I am, hatred over my actions, realization that I am not dedicated, I am not strong, I am not a fit or on the way to being a fit person.

I am nothing.

I am a slob of a person who literally ate their feelings in to submission, only to be swamped by new, worse, feelings. Feelings that I earned, that I deserved, because our actions show what we truly want. Our words can say anything, our actions are what we should pay attention to. And my actions showed who I really am.  All the horrible things I am.

I say I don’t want to be those things, but if I truly didn’t want to be them I would have sat with the first batch of uncomfie feelings rather than indulge myself, eat all that food, and now have to deal with the consequences.

I am glad I got injured tonight, I deserve the pain. I deserve every pound of weight I gain. I deserve every stomach ache I get. I deserve every single drop of guilt I feel. I did this to myself, I deserve punishment.

And trust me, tomorrow, it will be meted out.

Body Image

I hate being asked what I think about my body image. Like seriously, what doctor thinks that is an okay thing to ask a person? I never know how to answer.

Uh…well, I know I am fat, so I guess that is how I think about my body image?

I have sucky body image.

I don’t want to talk about it.

Those are my instinctive responses but none of them seem to be the right answer. sigh.

In case you hadn’t guessed, I was asked that recently. It makes me stumble every time I am asked, makes me screw up the rest of the conversation, makes me want to punch a wall and look down at my feet at the same time. That question makes me so incredibly uncomfortable.

It also got me thinking about body image. Which is a pisser.

I know I am fat. I see myself in the mirror every damn day don’t I? And not just in clothes, clothes that I choose specifically to try to hide my many flaws, but naked, or in just a towel, or just underwear, when none of the flaws can be hidden. I see it all. I know where all the problem spots are. I see where all my failures are etched on my body. I see where the evidence of my laziness and being prone to over indulgence show.

I see how fat I am. Daily.

I don’t want to have to put that in to words for some doctor.

I fly to a different province for Christmas, a province that has less tax than I do, combining the smaller amount of tax with Christmas and Boxing Week sales, and birthday discounts, I tend to buy clothes when I am there because it will save me money. I needed to replace all my work clothes because none of them were fitting properly, they were all too big. I figured they all got stretched in the wash, and were a bit old, so no big deal. Well imagine my surprise when I am trying clothes on and am going down 2 to 3 sizes before I find things that fit, and those items fit loose. I prefer my clothes loose but I think if I preferred form fitting clothes I could probably have gone down another size. Crazy!

I know I have to take in to account vanity sizing and all that, but…it appears I have shrunk, and it isn’t that my clothes got stretched out.


Now, I am not at all unhappy that I have gotten smaller, in fact I am thrilled. I am also confused at how this happened and I didn’t notice.

I look at myself every day. I see my flaws, my fat, every day. How did I not notice some of it went away? I mean yeah ok, I had noticed my ribs were more prominent and my hip bones, but my stomach and thighs are still just as fat, my ass still just as big, my face still just as round.

Before that shopping trip I would have said I 100% know what I look like and I 100% know I look the same, am the same, as this time last year. I have not changed in size, no matter how badly I want to.

Apparently that statement would have been wrong.

And I’m struggling because if I didn’t see that I was losing weight, then what if I start gaining weight and I don’t notice? What if I start getting even fatter and I don’t see it, and nobody tells me, and I just get fatter and fatter until there is no coming back from it?

Also, if I don’t see myself as I truly am, if I did get smaller and not see it, but was so sure I knew exactly what I looked like, well, what if there are other things I don’t see clearly? What if there are other aspects of myself, my eating disorder, my attempt at recovery, that I think I 100% see as they are, but, I don’t? And if I don’t see other things clearly, and other people don’t tell me what is the truth, or they tell me but I don’t believe them, how will I ever see things as they truly are?

How can I trust anything I think, or feel, or see, when it comes to me and how I look and my health and my eating disorder, if I somehow went down 3 sizes in clothes and can’t see that change?

How will I know what is real, what I can believe?

It reminds me of when you are driving in the fog. The area right around you doesn’t seem that foggy but farther down the road the fog looks thicker. You go farther down the road and realize it still doesn’t seem so thick around you but a bit farther down the road it looks thicker. Eventually you realize the fog around you is just as thick as the fog down the block, only you can’t see it because it is too close to you for you to perceive, because you are in it.

I am in the midst of my eating disorder, I vaguely knew about it before but chose to ignore the knowledge. Now, now I am aware, and see some things more clearly, but not all things, because I am too much mired in the eating disorder to see things beyond a certain point. Maybe one day I’ll be able to get clear of the fog, but for now, it is around me, blocking me from seeing the truth about who knows how many things, and even though I am aware of it now, it is fog, and I don’t know how to fight something I can’t touch.