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.
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.