There isn't anyone out there who sees themselves the way others see them. For a long time, I would look in the mirror and still see a chubby teenager. I've dealt with it and play tricks (it's amazing what tilting a mirror can do) on my mind. I know the difference between overweight, average and underweight. There are all three variations of that in my family and circle of friends. I will always classify myself as overweight-- but again, it's an issue that I don't is ever "fixed" but more "kept under control."
Control in an A Type Only Child is definitely a weakness. We take it to extremes-- more so than A Types with siblings. There is a self imposed (at least in my case) pressure to be the best. All my parents ever asked of me was to be the best me I could be. That's not an extreme request by any means, but to me, or someone like me, it's a tall order to fill. Here I am still NOT eating. I've lost about 22 lbs and people are noticing--- but my mom hasn't noticed, still. I find that to be interesting because I don't see her often but I guess to her I've always been small... But now I'm almost as small as I was when I was first diagnosed with having an eating disorder ( I still refuse to call myself anorexic since there are no bones sticking out). Oh and FYI, at 5'1" I should weight between 105-118 lbs. I weigh more than that, not by much but I still fall in the normal range of my BMI--- all that combined means, I am NOT anorexic.
here's the problem: Now I can't eat. It's physically difficult to get food down. This is new to me..... My first time around with this, I never had trouble eating, I just didn't eat. Now, I can't. I started keeping a diary of what I was eating and when so I could remember the last time I ate. That didn't work out well because there are days I don't eat so I would forget to write it down. So, I'm faced with this dilemma: how do I start eating again?
The answer should be simple but, I don't want to eat. Not interested in food at all. I'm back into a size 2-- and it's been a long time since that happened. I like being a 2. I don't know why I give a shit but I do. This control over my eating started as my way to cope with the stress but now it's spiraling out of control. My Type A is sneaking in and I'm challenging myself.... Can I get to 115? Can I get to 110? When will I stop? I feel weak, I feel tired but honestly, I'm too fucking depressed to care.
Sadly, on paper I have a great life. Beautiful daughter, wonderful husband, terrific family and friends, great job and even the material things are there. But somewhere, somehow, the switch went off and I lost my mind. The possibility of a Leave of Absence from work has been hanging over my head since December.... but then I think, people have stress every day and work. How lame of me to go out of work for being stressed, right?
My husband has given up out of frustration, my friends are concerned and my co-workers are telling me that I'm "withering away." Right now, I feel as though I am in the middle of a hurricane, hanging on to a branch for dear life. I wish it was easy to just eat, but each day, it gets harder and harder. When and if my mom realizes what's going on, she's going to be pissed for several reasons:
1. She's been sick all these months on a feeding tube and couldn't eat but here I am choosing not to eat when that's all she wanted ( I thought about saying I'm on a hunger strike in support of her-- that when she can eat I will eat, you know, like solidarity.... but then rethought that plan since it sounded, um, unrealistic.)
2.She's still not feeling well herself and this isn't something she is going to want to deal with now-- and I can't blame her. Although there has been a push to tell her, and threats by my husband, I still can't lay this on her.
3. She's going to yell at me--- she's Italian and I'm an only so she talks to me like I'm 12 still..... then she'll tell me I'm acting 12 and to cut it out. Then I'll get a speech on what a bad example I'm setting for my daughter (statistically she is genetically predisposed to this so it's my job to make sure she is never triggered).
I fear telling her. I really do. I know it don't want it to be me..... At this point, I'm fine with her finding out with me in a hospital. I'm not doing this because I think I'm fat. Could I have lost those last 5-10 pregnancy lbs, sure. I bought an elliptical and was committed to it. Then I had my own version of a nervous breakdown. I don't blame anyone but myself. I kept my emotions inside for 9 months and only let them out on this blog.... so I'm not surprised that I relapsed. This time is different though.... I don't know if I am going to be able to stop.
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