Tag Archives: restricting

Dentist Time

I have a dentist appointment tomorrow, well, technically today since it is 1:15am, but whatever.

I have a love – hate relationship with dentists.

I hate going to the dentist and having someone poke around in my mouth. Ugh.

I love my dentist though because he is crazy hawt, super nice, we have a lovely little flirt every time I am there, and well, it is the most conversation I have with a man pretty much ever. Pathetic I know!

I also love going to the dentist because it gives me a built in legit reason to not eat for most, if not all, of the rest of the day.

WooHoo!

See, tomorrow isn’t a normal check-up and cleaning. Tomorrow he is taking out an old filling and redoing it, he discovered something wrong with it at my standard cleaning a couple weeks ago. I need a ridiculous amount of freezing to not feel anything, so by the time he is done I have lost feeling in the entire side of my face. Literally, the entire side from the bottom of my eye to my jaw. It is crazy. I don’t care for the sensation, or lack there of, when it is frozen or when it is slowly coming back from being frozen. What I do love is that because it is so frozen I can’t eat. Hell, I can barely manage to sip water.

Nothing like trying to drink something and having it dribble out the side of your mouth that you can’t control *rolls eyes*

My appointment is at noon, no way will I eat before going, I don’t eat that early in the day. And when it is over I’ll be too numb to be able to eat anything. So I’ll spend the rest of my day with a warm compress on my cheek, sitting in my apartment chillin, and NOT eating.

I. Can’t. Wait.

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About Thursday

I am writing this a day after Thursday, in the hopes of getting past, or over, or at least somehow in the process of dealing with, the shock of the 5 year anniversary. (Yesterday’s post)

Thursday was an odd day.

I had a binge. A huge binge. Larger than I have had in a long time. It wasn’t as big as it could have been. I had other food I was also going to eat but somehow managed to talk myself out of it.

Then I was horrifically full so didn’t eat for um, 8.5 hours or so.

I wasn’t going to eat again at all that day but I had practice and I am trying to stick with the whole “eat before and after working out or engaging in a physical activity” rule. sigh. I hate that rule.

Obviously I didn’t eat right before practice, what with all the food that was still in my stomach digesting – which side note, despite very much wanting to I did not take any laxatives or diet pills to rush the food out of me – a miracle if ever there was one.

I’d like to take some credit for that but I only refrained because I know that the side effects from those pills would have hit when I was at practice and oh wow would that not be good.

So…no pills…but lots of food in the tummy…

Then I went to practice, had a decent workout, and when it was all done wanted ice cream. What the fuck?! *rolls eyes* My brain was all “you already fucked up today, if ever there is gonna be a day to eat the ice cream it is today!” but it was also saying “sure you ate a tonne earlier but you just finished practice so you burned a bunch of that off which means you have room to eat more”

I would like to point out that both those arguments are flawed, and yet, both feel so valid.

The whole drive home I was arguing with myself if I was going to get ice cream. If I wasn’t going to get it did I want to stop somewhere else and pick up something ready made to eat for dinner? Did I want to just grab the McFlurry and be done with it? Did I want to make something to eat at home? Or should I just not eat?

Don’t you love how I go from eating ice cream to eating nothing, like middle options don’t count or something.

In the end I went home, with the fairly solid plan of not eating because I was definitely over my calories for the day so my body doesn’t need any more food in it. If it is hungry from practice, which it shouldn’t be, then it can feed itself from the food I already put in it.

After my shower though I remembered a talk with my one-on-one counsellor and how we talked about post-workout nutrition and how it is important.

Ugh. Sometimes I hate when those talks pop back up in my head because they make it harder to convince myself restricting is the right choice and some days I really want to restrict because oh my god all the food in me from earlier!! Ack! But, I know he is right, and I am wrong, so I remembered what we talked about. I remembered about fueling my body, and taking care of it, and how if I don’t give it what it needs post-workout than tomorrow will be harder, and my workout tomorrow will be harder, and I’ll be more prone to injury and exhaustion, and well, I kept remembering a lot of stuff.

Eventually all that remembering kicked my ass in to gear and I made something to eat. And not even my normal food, which would have been a protein smoothie bowl or an egg with some toast.

Nope. I went out of my comfort zone by so freakin much. I have no idea why, it just felt like the night to try…to be honest I think because I still felt like such a screw up from my earlier binge that I figured if I’m gonna eat something higher calorie than my normal post practice meal I might as well go completely off plan. So, not the best reasoning for why to try something new but whatever.

I cooked a beef burger patty, and topped it with cheese, because oh yeah, apparently I eat cheese sometimes now! How the fuck did that happen?!  (I’m gonna get so fat…no! no, in moderation it might be ok…right?) Aaaaaand I made these things, I don’t know what to call them, they are like tater tots but made of broccoli and cheese.

I bought them I don’t even know how long ago and they have been in my freezer ever since. I’ve been too scared to try them because (1) what if I don’t like them and I’m stuck with them or (2) even worse, what if I like them and eat them too often, or too many at a time, and do I really want to risk having yet one more food that I know about, and like, that I have to put on my “not allowed” list, cause you know that is where most foods end up. sigh.

Food stuff is so hard.

So yeah, the package said 6 was a serving, so I cooked 6 of them.

That means I ate a burger patty with some cheese melted on top and 6 broccoli & cheese tot things.

Can that be any farther from something I am comfortable eating?

And omg, later I ate 10 crackers so I got my freakin grain component.

What has come over me…

Oh, and one last thing for the day, our drop-in group on Monday is cancelled cause of the holiday so I actually reached out to the friends I made in group that I hang with sometimes and asked if any of them would be interested in chilling that day, sort of our own group thing, so we don’t miss that Monday connection we usually have. And two of them have said yes! I thought for sure they’d be all “omg do we not see enough of you already, back the fuck off woman!” but no, they actually seem happy with the idea. Not everyone has responded yet so some of them may be all “back the fuck off”, but not all of them are…I’m assuming it is more the need to stick to routine and take care of their own recovery than any actual desire to hang out with me but that’s ok, shrug, I can deal with that.

I’m trying to tally the day, in a recovery positive way, and here is what I have:

Bad Shit:

I had a binge

Good Shit:

I stopped the binge before it got even worse than it was.

I didn’t take any pills etc. to purge after the binge.

I didn’t bail on my practice and avoid humanity because of my binge.

I initially restricted after the binge due to being sooooo full but after practice I made and cooked a meal.

The meal I cooked had all 4 food groups, contained red meat (something I never eat), contained a completely new to me food, had cheese, and I willingly ate a serving of carbs.

I didn’t purge the dinner I made.

I reached out to friends to make arrangements to help us all have support on a day when I knew we would be lacking it.

So, it would seem the Good tally is winning, wouldn’t you say?

Now, I will be the first to admit I could be very wrong here. Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten the post practice dinner because of how much I consumed earlier. I don’t know all the new rules, and I get confused a lot about what to do, what is the right decision, and I most likely made the wrong one here. But even if it is wrong, I made a decision, and I stuck with it, no matter what the consequences were. And at the end of the day I guess that is the best I can do.

(I feel I should point out I wrote that last paragraph like it is no big deal but I was freaking out. Totally and absolutely freaking out about having eaten that dinner, having the food in my tummy, taking in even more calories. I have been doing so well lately with not eating too much and Thursday totally blew that out of the water. So ya know, panic, in spades. But I still didn’t go for the pills, or for a late night run, instead I drank some water and went to bed. Please let that be a sign of progress cause if it isn’t then this internal drama sooooo isn’t worth it! Just sayin’)

Stupid Decisions

Today I am exhausted. I didn’t sleep well, I’m stressing about a bunch of things, and there is that whole little thing of not eating enough. Combined, those three things, plus a bunch of other things I’m probably not even aware of, have left me exhausted.

Unfortunately for me Mondays are a busy day for me. I work 7am-2pm, then speed to my group that runs from 3pm-5pm, then have an hour break before my 6pm group that ends at 7pm then I speed to practice where I am an hour late and coach makes sure I am aware what an inconvenience it is that I show up late on Mondays.

Yeah, Mondays kinda suck.

They suck more when I am tired.

I’ve been working on limiting my workouts to a more normal number, which isn’t easy cause coach is pushing us to workout even more, and harder. And I get that, she wants us in shape, but holy fuck from practices and selected by her workouts alone that is 7 workouts a week and that isn’t including the workouts we are responsible for on our own. In total she’d have me working out 12 times a week.

I get tired just thinking about it.

Part of me wants to rise to the challenge, push myself to do it, show myself, and her, and everyone, that I am strong enough, dedicated enough, capable enough, to do this.

Part of me knows I’ll burn out.

So today I didn’t want to go to practice. It was pouring rain, cold, windy, I was tired, hadn’t really eaten all that much for the last couple weeks or so, I was already struggling to function, I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to survive at practice.

I did a thing I rarely do, I texted I wasn’t coming to practice.

I hate myself for doing it even while acknowledging I would not have survived practice. Well, ok, that is being dramatic, I would have survived but I wouldn’t have performed well, and it would have taken so much out of me I wouldn’t have been able to function afterwards. Which might have been ok except I have an early morning work meeting tomorrow and a photo shoot this coming Thursday that I can’t be sick or wiped for. Photoshop can only do so much ya know?

The very rare times I don’t go to practice I also restrict my eating, obviously. I mean, if I’m not going to work out then I can’t eat anything.

I didn’t do that.

I picked up something to eat on the way home from group because I knew I didn’t have the energy to cook anything and I was so cold and so desperately wanted something warm.

When I got home I ate. I ate an amount of food that to me is so large I don’t know how my stomach fit it all, but to a normal person was a normal amount. And what was weird was even after I was done, and I didn’t feel hungry anymore, if anything I felt overly stuffed and in pain and sickly, I wanted to keep eating. Not from hunger. Not even from emotional distress (I don’t think), but because it is habit. If I eat the amount that I ate then I must be about to binge because I never eat that much in one sitting, so it is like my body was prepped and wondering why I wasn’t still stuffing my face. Also, I was still cold, and I think I partially wanted to keep eating because of being cold. Which doesn’t actually make sense, but it is how I felt at the time so I’m going with it.

I didn’t eat anything else. I did have over the course of the rest of the evening three cups of tea, which did nothing to help the sickly gross feeling in my stomach.

I didn’t take any of my supplements, or diet pills, or laxatives, and that is bothering me. The least I should have done was taken pills to get this food out of me faster, but they all make me bloat, sometimes for days, and like I already said, I have a photo shoot on Thursday and I can’t do that bloated.

So I’m sitting here, hours after I ate all that food, laundry finally done, yawning, I should be headed to the shower and then bed, but all I can do is focus on how my stomach feels. I am scared to shower because I will see how distended my stomach is from having food in it. I am also so tired that I am too tired to get ready for bed. Does that happen to anyone else or just me? I have been known to have a nap on my living room chair in order to get enough energy together to get up and go to bed. Somehow I feel that isn’t quite normal…

I’m mad at myself for skipping practice. I’m mad at myself for eating when I didn’t go to practice. I’m mad at myself for not taking any pills after eating to mitigate the damage from eating. And above all that anger is the super focused power of my brain constantly reminding me of how my stomach feels.

Seriously, how do non eating disordered people eat like this? It’s disgusting.

What’s really fucked up is if I told this to my group, or my one on one counsellor, or any of the people at recovery, they’d probably say not going to practice and eating dinner are signs of recovery or some stupid thing. But all those actions accomplished for me was to make me feel weak and lacking in willpower.

I feel like recovery should have a tag line:

Recovery, where every decision you make will feel wrong and you’ll wonder if you’ll ever not feel like a weak idiot!

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?

A Win That Feels Like A Loss

Today is a day I had practice (for my sport) and I’ve been working really hard on remembering to eat an hour an a half (or so) prior to heading out to practice so my body is properly fueled for the activity I am about to make it take part in.

I never used to do that, it is kind of a new deal for me, and not one that comes naturally. I’m trying it with all activity, whether it is the gym, practice, a hike, whatever.

The only thing I had to do out of the apartment today was practice so I let myself sleep in. When I woke up the first time all I was aware of was how everything hurt. My muscles were really feeling the work out I gave them the night before at the gym and oh man the pain. I mean yeah ok, it is a good pain, but it is still pain, ya know?

I rolled over and went back to sleep, then repeated the whole wake-up, roll over, snooze a bit longer deal at least twice more. Partly that was because I like to sleep but I don’t do it very well at night so if I have a day where I can sleep in and catch up a bit I like to. It is also a left over habit where I sleep through as many meals as I can, thereby limiting how much food I have to take in during the day. I hate days where I am up early and don’t get to bed till late, I can restrict during those days, and if you were to look at how many calories I take in on those days I probably still technically fall on the side of restricting, but I eat more on those days than I am comfortable with and I fully blame that on being up so early and having such a long day…that and my lack of willpower, sigh.

Back to today! I ate for the first time at 2pm and oh man, I so didn’t want to. I didn’t feel hungry. I didn’t want to eat. I just wanted to drink some tea and do nothing but another thing I try to do is if I have a day where I have loads of time then instead of a super fast / quick to make meal as my first meal I will actually cook something. I thought I might be hungry by the time I finished cooking, which was the only reason I cooked anything, but I wasn’t. I was however left with a plateful of food and a real anger at myself that I was going to waste the food and the money I spent buying the food, so I started eating. I didn’t think I’d finish what I made (I made too much) but I did, and I immediately felt guilty for eating when I hadn’t felt hungry, and well, a whole bunch of other things, but I don’t wanna bore you with my internal monologue, just know it ain’t pretty. *rolls eyes*

Something I am trying to count as a win from that meal was I prepped too many fillings for the omelette I made and instead of throwing them out I put them in a little dish and ate them as a side dish to my omelette. Kind of weird, but ok, I guess…So, does that count as a win because I didn’t throw out the food or a loss because it contributed to me eating too much?

How do people figure these things out??

I realized when I was getting ready for practice I had screwed myself by eating at 2pm because practice is at 7pm so I needed to eat something around 5:30pm (I have to leave by 6pm) and if you think I was at all hungry then you are delusional. There was nooooo room in my tummy for another meal, and I didn’t want a snack, so I decided my 2pm meal would see me through practice. To give you a clear picture, that would mean that meal would be fueling me through a two hour outdoor high intensity practice and I wouldn’t be home and in a position to eat anything until 10:30pm or so.

I suppose that is expecting a lot from that meal?…but to me it seems an ok choice.

When I went to leave for practice though I discovered it was pouring rain and my outdoor two hour intensive practice now got raised a level because I’d be doing everything in the cold, pouring rain. Just. Freakin. Great.

So I remembered what my counsellor said about food being fuel, which got me thinking of food as the source needed to fuel a fire, and me needing fuel to fire up my energy levels for practice, and next thing you know I am eating a protein bar while driving to practice.

I know that chain of thoughts makes no sense, but it does to me.

I thought, if I ate the protein bar, it would help me stay warm and be able to power through practice. And since I am cold all the time, especially on the water, anything that might help my body stay a little bit warmer is something I am willing to consider.

There was some definite negative feelings about eating that protein bar, but I just kept focusing on it being a tool to help me be my best at practice, and eventually I was at practice and too busy working hard to think about it anymore.

After I got home and showered, I was once again trying to figure out what to do about food. I didn’t feel hungry, I didn’t want anything, but even I know that what I ate during the day would not be considered enough with the activity I did, so I made something high in protein to eat. I was going to make a simple protein shake but instead made actual food, well, to be honest, I heated up actual food that was left over from earlier in the week.

When I first decided to write this post I was going to write about how I ate the protein bar on the way to practice and I think that is a win. But when I look at my day overall I feel whatever small wins I managed barely count, especially when I feel so badly about them and don’t know if I consider them a win or a loss.

It isn’t fair that a win can feel like a loss, though that does seem to be the nature of recovery. You have a win by doing something your eating disorder doesn’t want you to do, but you feel like it is a loss because you failed your eating disorder, and if you are me, you worry that if you get too far away from your eating disorder you’ll be left with nothing. Because I am nothing, and if I don’t have my behaviours to focus on than what do I have?

And wow, that got kinda deep all of a sudden.

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.

Fuck.

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.

Fuck.

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.

Fuck.

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!

Meal Support

One of the weekly groups that my recovery program offers is Meal Support. Basically, you take in a well balanced meal, eat it within 20 minutes in a room with other people, then you have to hang out for a while (I can’t remember how long) playing a game or working on a puzzle or some other lame activity that is supposed to keep you occupied.

When I was first told of it I dismissed it out of hand. I am fat, obviously I don’t have a problem with eating, so why go sit in a room with other people and eat? I don’t need that kind of help.

The next time I was told of it I asked some questions, then said nope. It doesn’t sound like a thing I need.

And the trend continued.

Then the other week my nutritionist called to reschedule a meeting with her I had cancelled and mentioned that our meeting would end just in time for me to go to Meal Support. I scoffed, said no thanks. She said it would be a good way to challenge myself, and to think about it.

That irritated me. Challenge myself? Am I not already doing that? Well, okay, maybe I’m not challenging myself all that much since I still engage in pretty much all of my restricting behaviours but whatever, that is besides the point.

So I went back and forth on if I would go or not.

Then a friend said something to me that needs a whole post of its own to get in to but really rubbed me the wrong way. What she said, combined with the whole “challenge yourself” thing left me thinking I am not trying hard enough, not doing enough, not working at recovery as much as I should be, so I decided fuck it, I will go to Meal Support.

At one time, when I thought about it, before I decided no, I thought maybe somewhere in the future I would go, but I’m not ready for it right now. I still don’t think I am ready for it…

I had drop-in group last night and one of the two people who run that session is one of the people that run Meal Support so I spoke to her about what exactly I am expected to bring to eat.

I am supposed to bring something from every food group. I am not allowed to bring anything “diet” and I am not allowed to have a salad as my main food component. She suggested I bring a sandwich, a fruit, a yogurt, oh and that the sandwich have protein in it.

That is a fuck lot of food to eat in one sitting.

I asked if my yogurt counted as dairy and fruit since it is a strawberry yogurt…she said no. sigh. It only counts as dairy.

Now I don’t know what to do. I can’t eat that much food in one sitting, let alone in 20 minutes. And it didn’t dawn on me until the other day that I do everything possible to avoid eating in front of other people. Plus, when I do eat, the only way I manage it is to be watching tv or be on social media, I need constant distraction to eat, and I don’t think I will get that tomorrow.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to wimp out and not go. I don’t want to go and have to eat all that food in front of people. I don’t want to fail at yet another part of recovery. I don’t want to ruin my restricting streak by eating all those foods in one day.

I’ve been so good with my restricting lately, I’ve dropped another couple pounds. I can see individual ribs now and I don’t want to lose that. Don’t think I am skinny or something, I am losing weight weird so my tummy, hips and thighs are still disgustingly huge. But some parts of me are getting smaller, mostly around my rib area, and my arms, and my boobs, sigh. Why the boobs? Whyyyyy? 😉

So yeah, I am stressing about this right now, wondering what to do tomorrow, what is going to happen, what will it be like, stuff like that…I am not enjoying this sensation, this butterflies in my tummy, trouble breathing, super nervous, sensation.

I don’t want to go to Meal Support.

But you know that saying:

Feel the fear, and do the thing anyways.

Maybe the fear I am feeling is not fear because of danger and it is keeping me safe. Maybe it is fear that I should fight against and I’ll come out stronger on the other side.

Although, right now, it feels like overwhelming fear that has me panicked and wanting to hide and wondering if I will survive tomorrow, because right now I feel like tomorrow is gonna kill me.