Category Archives: weight loss

Diet Pills

I couldn’t write you a comprehensive list of all the diet pills and supplements I’ve taken over the years if you offered to pay me for it. Not because I’m not willing to share but because there have been so many I can’t remember them all.

For the past year or so I’ve been using, off and on, the same ones. I say “off and on” because technically, in treatment, I’m not supposed to be taking them. Or I’m at least supposed to be actively working at not taking them. Sometimes I do that. Sometimes I say fuck it as I pop em in my mouth.

Yes, I know diet pills are not regulated, or guaranteed to work, and are most likely harmful to my body, but, well, in the moment none of that matters to me. I feel that stopping taking them daily to only taking them when I have had a binge is a vast improvement and frankly, I can’t envision a life where I don’t have some occasionally. I don’t understand how not everybody has some stashed away.

A couple weeks ago I was at an essential oils party and one of the oils is for weight loss, hunger suppressant, stuff like that. There is also an option to buy a diet pill version and a shake powder.

Uh hello, a new diet pill? Why don’t you just pass that brochure on over here k?

I took a look at the blurb written about them, talked to the lady selling them, and boom! Ordered a bottle.

The stupid things are so not cheap, and I really can’t afford them. But the promise of a pill that will help suppress my appetite and make me skinny was too much to pass up.

I must have been feeling conflicted about it because I had a doc’s appointment last week and mentioned it to him. This is a shrink doc, not a body doc, I see him once every six weeks as part of my recovery program.

So yeah, he asked about my pill usage, and I told him, and then I mentioned how I bought a new one but hadn’t gotten it yet. He strongly suggested I cancel the order before I have the pills in my possession. I didn’t agree or disagree, just made some non-committal noise.

I honestly hadn’t thought I could cancel them, I’d given my word I was ordering them, I can’t go back on that, right?

I decided to let fate decide. The next day I texted the lady and asked if the order had gone in yet. She said no. I asked her to cancel my order as I had some unexpected expenses and couldn’t afford them – yes, I lied, deal with it. She asked if it would be ok to check with me in a month or so to see if I wanted them then. I said yes, mostly out of politeness, but I guess also so I don’t feel like the opportunity is lost to me forever.

I don’t know how I feel about cancelling the order. Money wise I feel relieved, I really can’t afford them. But the rest of me doesn’t feel happy about it. I guess I feel conflicted? I want the pills. I can give you a ton of arguments why I should have the pills. I honestly can’t give you one single argument for not having the pills except the shrink said to cancel the order. The decision was definitely not one made by me from a recovery mindset. I guess that doesn’t matter too much, as the result is the same, except it pisses me off that other people can buy these pills and try them, and what if these are the diet pills that really do work and I miss out on them, but I can’t buy them, all because of my eating disorder.

It doesn’t help that I’m having a horrible, and I mean horrible, body image day, and my stomach has been hurting every time I eat something for two days now, and I’m sliding down in to sadness – that is something that happens now and then. I can feel it happening but have no way to stop it, sigh. And apparently I am the equivalent of a pouty toddler because dammit, I want them *stomps foot*

Which, if I am being logical, is the perfect reason to not have them. I want them too much. And if I’m being honest I don’t need help suppressing my appetite, I barely have an appetite as-is *rolls eyes*

I still want them though…

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MIA

My boobs are shrinking.

Apologies, that wasn’t a very grown-up way of writing that, let’s try again…

My breasts appear to be shrinking. Again. At this rate they will disappear altogether!

Why oh why can’t the fat from oh I don’t know, my stomach, or back, or thighs, or ass, go first? Whyyyyy the boobs?

Its just not fair I tell ya!

I’ve been working out more, and my workouts focus mostly on cardio, back, shoulders, and arms. As a result I have decent definition in my arms and shoulders. My back needs work, lots of work, and my cardio endurance is slowly getting better. However, none of that working out is translating into a slimmer, better looking me.

My chest is bonier, which wasn’t planned but I’m fine with, but my boobs are disappearing, which I’m not all that ok with to be honest. I mean, if you tell me to get them back I have to start eating again then I’ll just deal with them being smaller, but it would be nice if all that work on my pecs translated in to perkier boobs, not disappearing ones. *rolls eyes*

When I was getting dressed for work today I swear I saw myself get fatter in the mirror as I was seeing if my outfit was ok.

I wish I was exaggerating with that but I swear, as I took a look at my body from the side I’m positive my abdominal and ass area got thicker.

Is that even possible? I don’t think it is, except I experienced it…I had already changed my outfit three times and didn’t have time to change again so I had to go to work in what I was wearing and I felt ginormous. Like the fattest of all the fat people. And yet two people complimented how I looked and my figure. Don’t they see how disgusting and fat I am? How I still have so much work to do to look even halfway decent? How I am obviously a person with no willpower who eats too much?

I hate what I look like. I hate how I feel in my own body. I hate this. This fucked up, can’t even tell what I look like in an outfit, way of being.

I hate that I am so mad and upset about other things and the only way I know how to express my level of upset is by taking it out on my own body.

I’ve started taking my diet pills and supplements again, I just bought some new ones cause why the fuck not? I’ve been restricting, and not my regular levels of under eating but actual restricting. I’ve been scalding myself but have so far managed to not outright burn myself. I’ve been taking part in activities that cause me body pain and low levels of harm because again, why not? I’ve already decided to pull out of a couple different social functions that I said I’d go to and not say yes to anything new that pops up, because who needs people? And to pull back from my recovery program, because why have a support system?

In all ways I can fuck with myself I am, and while part of me doesn’t really care, part of me is reveling in the pain and harm I am bringing upon myself, because I deserve it. I deserve the pain, the depression, the total and complete belief that I am alone and unworthy of anything else.

Self-destruction is my only way of dealing with things, and it is something I do well. I guess my boobs are just the first casualty of this newest battle.

Right Back

Every week I have meal support. When it was first recommended I go I said no, I mean c’mon, look at how big I am, I obviously don’t have trouble eating *rolls eyes*

It was casually suggested a couple more times, to which I casually dismissed the idea, and then the dietitian learned a bit more about me and challenged me to go to meal support.

Well fuck. I’m competitive and don’t back down from challenges, so guess who ended up at meal support?

Sigh. Me.

I went once and swore I was never going back.

Obviously, somewhere along the way, I went back. I don’t remember exactly when, prior to Christmas I think it was, and I make it pretty much every week. It is part of my routine now. A stressful part that I always want to skip, and yet, I go. Not only that I encourage others to go! Who am I becoming??

The dietitian who runs meal support is going on vacation and will be gone for two weeks, nobody else was able to cover the group, so the next two weeks don’t have meal support.

At first I was ambivalent, then kinda happy I can sleep in, then sorta sad I won’t be hanging out with my friends in that group, then the eating disorder thoughts started making themselves known.

My friends in that group and I thought maybe we’d all get together anyways, so we don’t lose that support system, ideas got tossed around about what we will do, when, where, all that stuff. Instead of a lunch time meal support we are getting together a bit later in the day, mid afternoon-ish, learning about essential oils, aaaaaand having a freakin pot luck.

What. The. Fuck.

A potluck where the food is all being brought by people with eating disorders.

I don’t even know what this will look like. I do know it is causing me some stress trying to figure out what to bring, and how much, and am I supposed to bring something that has all the food groups, or am I assuming someone else will bring something that has say, dairy, so my dish doesn’t have to have dairy. Oh the thoughts!

Then this happened…

I was making up my grocery list, I use an app called Flipp. There are some items I leave on there because I buy them often so when I am at the store and scan through the list it’ll have the reminder for say, milk, and I’ll know if I’m low and need some that week or can wait. One of those items is Greek Yoghurt. That is only on the list because of meal support. It is my go-to for the dairy component of the meal that I take every week. If I didn’t have to take a dairy item to meal support I wouldn’t have any dairy on my grocery list. I have recently started buying cheese, not as a food to take to meal support, but as a direct result of eating a dairy item each week at meal support. Apparently I am branching out with my dairy and also eating cheese every now and then when at home.

The point of that ramble is that when I was making up my grocery list this evening, I saw Greek Yoghurt on the list and my first thought was:

“Don’t need to buy that this week”

And then I mentally started thinking of all the other foods I won’t be buying this week because I’m not in meal support so I don’t need them for this week, or next. They aren’t even all foods that I use in meal support! It’s like my brain figures meal support is done for two weeks so bam! Let’s go back to how I was before I ever went.

Seriously??

Is this where my brain is?

Some recovery journey I’m on *rolls eyes* As soon as backs are turned I’m thinking about what I can get away with not eating for two weeks and gleefully wondering how much weight I can drop before she gets back and anybody notices.

My one-on-sessions haven’t ended yet, I still have three more weeks before he leaves, so I guess I’ll probably bring this up to him when I see him, except that isn’t until Wednesday, and who knows what I’ll convince myself of by then.

Here I thought I was getting closer to being able to eat oatmeal again and instead I’m mentally throwing out food that is in my fridge and freezer and promising myself I’ll never buy it again.

I feel like I can’t be left to my own devices, or trusted to not go off the deep end. And what is really a pisser is I hadn’t even realized how much meal support was reigning my behaviours in! What else haven’t I noticed?

Numbers

It’s all just a numbers game.

What do I weigh? What are my measurements? How many calories did I eat? How many calories did I burn? How many hours did I sleep? How many hours did I spend in various recovery groups this week? How many times a day do I struggle with my eating disorder?

I’m not going to sit here and list the numbers for you. But the above questions are numbers I think about often.

I am terrified of the scale. I know a lot of people with eating disorders weigh themselves obsessively, hell, I used to be one of them, but I am so scared of the number the scale will show that I can’t bring myself to step on it.

You might think this is a good thing but in actuality it means I spend a ridiculous amount of time wondering what I weigh. I will think I know, and beat myself up for how fat I am. I will convince myself I have gained ten pounds in the past week and that I am so huge I shouldn’t be seen in public and none of my clothes will fit or look good, and if I hadn’t skipped that one gym session, or hadn’t eaten that one meal, then I wouldn’t be as fat as I am now. And then the thoughts get mean.

There are weight restrictions for one of my jobs though so no matter what, once a month I have to stand on a scale.

Today I had to not only stand on a scale but take full body measurements – not for work, for something else. I then have to repeat the process on the last day of March to show improvement. Which of course means I am freaking out because what if I don’t show improvement? What if instead of getting in to a bit better shape I just get fatter? Oh my god please don’t let me get fatter, I won’t be able to handle it.

So now I know my weight aaaaaand all my body measurements and my head has been spinning with those numbers all day.

See, when I step on the scale the result goes one of two ways:

(1) the number is higher than what I can stand seeing and I immediately start restricting even more and working out even harder to fix it

(2) the number is lower than I was expecting, I am happy (even though I want it even lower), and I become terrified of screwing up and having the number go up, so I start restricting even more and working out even harder to make sure I don’t screw up the loss

Not really great responses huh?

Today I stood on the scale with the full knowledge of what the scale said in January, sure that it was up ten pounds from that number because dammit I know my body and I know I have gotten fatter. *stomps foot*

The number was ten pounds lower than my weight in January. Ten pounds lower. But I was 100% sure I was up. So how could I be down? The scale must be broken, obviously! So I reset it and tried again. Still ten pounds down.

So, yay?

I mean yay, I am happy I lost weight, obviously, but um, I was so sure I’d gone up, it was like I didn’t know what to do with this information.

Now, before anyone worries, I am not someone who is underweight, or even near to being underweight, so losing ten pounds isn’t a dangerous thing for me. Trust me, I still have a lot of cushion on this body, unfortunately.

Then I took my measurements. They don’t have as big of an effect on me as I was never much of a measurement focused person. I am curious to see how they change in a month though, but not in a “they must get to a certain number” type of way, just a general curiosity.

Weird how I can be so affected by the scale number but not so much by the measuring tape numbers huh?

Seeing that I was down, after I started to believe it, had me immediately thinking of what foods to cut out, and how much to cut out, and how much I can increase my exercise, to not screw this up. I am convinced it is some weird fluke and won’t last unless I am super careful.

But…that reaction goes against what I am learning in recovery, sigh. Also, I had my team practice tonight and in my one-on-ones we talked about how I need to properly fuel my body for when I work out and when I have my sports practices because if I don’t fuel my body I can’t perform to my best ability and I increase my chances of getting hurt. So I try to make sure I eat an hour and a half or so before any work out or activity that I take part in. It sucks, and is hard, but I try…I don’t always succeed, in case you were wondering lol

Today I had no excuse to not eat before practice, but I was thinking I could eat just that small meal before practice and nothing else, cause that would be ok, right? Ok, wrong, I know wrong, but it still feels right.

Brace yourself, are you sitting down? Because not only did I eat around 1:30 pm, I also ate at 5:30 pm (my pre practice meal), aaaaand when I got home after practice I ate something around 11 pm. That is three times in one day eating food! And ok, granted, not all food groups were included at each meal, and the word meal might be an ambitious use of the word since each time the food quantity was kinda low, but the fact that I ate three times should count for something, right? Maybe…I dunno…maybe I am stretching here, sigh.

For someone who hates math my head sure has a lot of numbers in it lol

I don’t really know where I was going with this post, except that I have nobody I can share the news that I lost ten pounds with, and nobody to share the news that I ate three times in one day with, and I just wanted to say it somewhere, out loud, even if it is actually being typed not spoken.

 

Not Helping

I wrote a bit ago about how I had been sick (well, when I wrote that post I was currently sick) and as a result lost 3 pounds in 3 days.

When I went back to work I had lost a total of four and a bit pounds and apparently it was noticeable. I don’t understand how, but people said they could tell, and asked if I was ok, and did all that concerned questioning nosy thing that people do. When I said I had been sick they switched to concerned but not as nosy, which is a bit better I guess.

This also seemed to open up the gateway for them to comment on my weight in general.

I’ve lost weight this past year. People love talking about that shit. I lie, and tell them I lost it in a healthy way. They have no reason to not believe me, so they nod and say I did a great job.

Then they proceed to tell me how I shouldn’t lose anymore weight because “you’re wasting away!” but in the next breath they say how great I look. Even when I came back to work after being sick people were saying how great I looked…right after telling me I looked sick *rolls eyes* People!

This is not helping me get back to a more “normal” way of eating.

When I was sick I was living off of chicken noodle soup, tea, and very small amounts of apple juice. When I’m sick my appetite, the sad little thing that it is, goes right out the window, and it takes everything I can muster to remember to drink the tea, let alone eat the soup.

I knew I had lost weight. And because I always want to lose weight I was happy with this loss. My ribs were more prominent, I felt lighter, stronger, more capable, smarter, better. I feel a lot of great things when my weight goes down…which makes it reeeeally hard to be ok with staying at this weight or gaining. When I went back to work I had zero internal incentive to go back to eating anything other than my soup and tea.

My first day back at work I worked two jobs, then went to the gym, then went home and ate nothing post-workout, then woke up the next day so much sicker that I had to call in and miss two days of work. Apparently I went back to the gym a tad too soon. Oops! Since I spiraled back down in to the world of being sick I also spiraled back in to the justification that it is ok to eat only the chicken noodle soup and the tea. Oh how easy it is to think like that.

So now I’m basically over the cold, just some sinus stuff. It is the first day of my work week, I worked two jobs, went to the gym after work, and am about to head to bed and I am realizing I am having a very hard time with eating. Not just eating in general, which I always have, but eating foods I used to be ok with. I used to be ok with eating oatmeal. I didn’t eat it when sick cause it was too much for me. Now I can’t bring myself to eat it. Just the thought of it makes me cringe a bit. I don’t know why. I like oatmeal. I was totally fine with eating it before…hell, it was one of my few food staples, but now, well, I went without it all that time I was sick so obviously I don’t need it, so why eat it?

A lot of foods have turned in to dilemmas like this for me.

Eggs? Yup.

Bread? Yup.

Oatmeal we already discussed.

Fish? Yup.

Certain vegetables? sigh, yes, even those.

Now, that list may not seem long but it basically all the food I allowed myself to eat on any regular basis.

Right now my list of ok foods seems to consist of chicken noodle soup. Even I know that isn’t a good list! Though part of my brain thinks it is brilliant. *rolls eyes*

I don’t know how to integrate my old foods back in to my rotation, I didn’t really anticipate them leaving my rotation ya know?

My screwed up brain, combined with all the compliments I am getting from people about how great I look is making it hard to see the logic of eating again. If I look so great after what turned out to basically be a soup diet, why not continue?

I know the people at my work don’t mean harm, they don’t know what I am struggling with, they don’t know that by telling me I look great and skinny and all that they are re-enforcing that not eating is a good choice and strengthening my fear that eating any other foods will result in my becoming immediately fatter.

I know it’s not their fault. I know it. I swear I know it! And I know I have to control how I respond to people’s comments and I have to control how I internalize what people are really saying. Someone saying I look good doesn’t translate to I should never eat again, not in other peoples brains anyways, and I have to break that connection in mine.

But c’mon, I got called skinny today. Me. The fat girl with a good 30 pounds left to lose. I don’t want to lose that compliment and right now my brain is saying I’ll lose it if I eat.

Messed up. My head is so messed up.

Sick

Last work week (I work Fridays through Tuesdays) I got exposed to a plethora of germs because people at work decided that even though they were sick, like, super sick, they’d still come to work because “I never get sick, it isn’t that bad”…only to have to leave early because of just how sick they were.

I really, and I mean reeeally, hate when people come to work sick.

Keep your freakin germs to yourself people!

Anyways…

When I was leaving work Monday I was feeling it, the sore throat, the sniffles, the tiredness. Definite signs I was getting sick. I ran errands instead of going to the gym like I had planned and stocked up on DayQuil, kleenex, throat lozenges, the apple juice mentioned in a previous post, and Vitamin C drops.

A sick person’s survival kit!

I didn’t end up as sick as the others though and stupidly thought I’d managed to escape the horrible-wish-I-was-dead version of this illness. Now I think I might have just been incubating it and it is about ready to make itself fully known…just in time for my new work week. Fuck.

I spent Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday taking things easy. I mean, I still had things to do (a work shift Tuesday and two appointments Wednesday in regards to my eating disorder recovery) but other than those things I stayed at home, read books, cuddled with the cat, and tried to let my body rest.

Oh, and I took AirBorne, I swear by that stuff.

Wednesday I thought I was pretty much better and I’d be able to go to the gym Thursday, Thursday came though and omg I think I am getting worse. My voice is kinda going. My sinuses are doing worse (plugged and runny nose at the same time, super annoying!), I’m cold, can’t focus, basically a lot of the symptoms of, oh I don’t know, a sick person.

So tomorrow, because I can’t find someone to cover my shift I will be that person who goes to work sick, and spreads her germs. Ugh.

In regards to my eating disorder, getting sick like this does not help me at all. Well, unless you listen to my eating disorder, it is practically doing hand stands because of how little I am able to eat when sick.

Even when not sick I suck at following a meal plan but I try to eat twice a day…which depending on where you are in recovery sounds like not enough or way too much. To me it still sounds like too much, but I try really hard to manage it. It took a while to build up to that much food in one day and I don’t really like it, shrug.

When sick any thought of following a meal plan basically goes right out the window. My appetite disappears, nothing tastes right, I have even less interest in food. Most of my brain thinks these are all great things but the part of me that is learning shit in recovery knows that these aren’t great things.

My ed brain says:

Eating broth and drinking tea is a totally acceptable thing to do. One bowl of broth is definitely a days worth of calories.

My recovery side says:

Not enough food dumb ass.

My ed brain says:

You’re sick, you don’t have to eat when you’re sick. Don’t worry about it.

My recovery side says:

The less you eat the harder it is for your body to get better. You need nutrients to get better. Eat something!

My ed brain says:

If you’re going to eat something then you’re going to ruin all the benefits of being sick. Think of how quickly you’re losing weight right now. Think of how easy it is because you don’t have an appetite because you’re sick. Why throw that away? Be strong! Don’t eat! You don’t need food! But if you do eat then you might as well binge because you’re a failure, a loser who can’t manage the simple task of not eating. You don’t deserve to be skinny. You don’t deserve to get to your goal. If you’re going to eat then eat something ridiculous, something high calorie, something that will make you feel bloated, and overly full, and gross, because you deserve to feel all those things if you eat, because you failed.

My recovery side says:

It says nothing. Because it is barely a whisper in my mind on my best days and it can’t stand up to my ed brain when it is on a roll.

So here I am, sick. I did manage a meal the other day that had all 4 food groups in it. A small meal. Probably it is classified as more of a snack, but to me it is a meal. And a win.

Today…not so much.

Today I ate soup, though I had two bowls instead of one, which I guess counts for something. And I had some bread, because I am weak and I like bread…but is it weak that I like bread and choose to eat it or is it ok to eat something I like, in moderation…I question this but I know what I feel the answer is, it is weak, and I am weak for eating the bread. Just because I like it doesn’t mean I should eat it. I like a lot of things I don’t eat anymore. Bread is useless calories, unnecessary food, I should really get rid of it, sigh.

I weighed myself today and am down 3 pounds in three days. Which the majority of me is thrilled about, but also terrified I will screw up and as a result of the terror my brain has been screaming at me all day to not eat ever again or those three pounds will pile back on with a whole bunch more. But ya know what, I ate the soup anyways, so fuck you voice!

Oh god, I don’t mean it, I do mean it, I don’t know what I mean. I’m so confused.

I don’t want to be a lost cause to my recovery team. I don’t want to be one of those people who they feel is beyond their help and is let go so someone more deserving can be given help. I think I am one of those people though, and they’ll figure it out soon, and I’ll be left alone to deal with what is in my head, and I will fold to the ed and stop fighting even the small amount I am fighting, and I’ll be screwed.

You know, this post was going to be about how I lost three pounds in three days and isn’t that so great? But apparently I have other shit on my mind right now…who knew something could be bigger in my head then a lower number on the scale? This cold must be really messing with my brain. *rolls eyes*

Tired

I’m tired.

All. The. Time.

I wish I was a cat who could just sleep my days away, but unfortunately I have responsibilities to deal with that force me out of bed much earlier than I want and make me stay up later than I would like.

Then there is the whole problem of not getting a decent sleep when I am finally in bed.

What’s with that?

Seems like some mean trick, not being able to get a decent sleep even though I am so tired.

It was recommended to me I cut out some of my caffeine, so my last drink of the day is now decaf.

It sucks balls.

It also makes me feel tired earlier, which was sorta the point I guess.

The lack of caffeine in that last drink of the day has not magically made it so I can sleep better, or get to sleep faster, or really had any affect on my sleep.

All I notice is I now have more trouble functioning during the day because I am low on caffeine, or at least lower than my norm.

After my friend died I had a two day binge fest. Since then I’ve been a bit more in control of things. Some days I am eating more than I think I should, but not as much as my dietitian wants me to eat. Most days I am still under eating by quite a bit more than I tell my dietitian, I don’t want her to freak out at me. I am also going to the gym more – although that is partially a lie cause last week I was hardly there. A combination of grief, a change in schedule, and really bad cramps kept me away. I plan on recommitting this week though.

I had hoped by going to the gym more I could lose a dress size in time for my one work’s Christmas party but that binge, plus the lack of gym time, has screwed that up for me. So I’ll be as fat as I am right now at the party, which sucks.

I haven’t lost my collarbone, or my shoulder bones, which pleases me. And my hip bones are more noticeable but not as noticeable as I want. I’m getting there though! I’m worried Christmas, well, the month of December really, will derail me, it did last year. The gym will be handy for that, to offset extra food I might eat. I have to be careful though, don’t want to eat more because I think I have a buffer or something.

This post is all over the place, because I am tired and can’t seem to keep a single thought in my head for long before it gets replaced by a new one.

Seriously missing my caffeine right now.

ribs and hips

Goals