"There is something freakishly wrong with me!"
YES, there is. This morning my Mother recommended me going to the doctor's to get weighed. Of course, I started freaking out and jiggling my leg and holding onto my stomach for dear life. I was nervous... Alright, I was having a major freak out. ED was being the obnoxious ass-hole he always is, reminding me how fat I must be now, after two weeks of proper re-feeding. And, shamefully, I believed in his words. Oh, Eleanor, you've gained so much this week, look, you can even see the fat. It's multiplying, growing, every single day, every mouthful is another kilo on your ass/legs/stomach/arms/face/everywhere possible. Okay, he was a real, real jerk this morning.
As I sat in the sitting in the surgery, my leg wouldn't stop moving. Mum had to tell me to stop, as it was making her chair jiggle and her "fat wobble". That made me laugh, but ED grabbed onto that and said in his painful voice if it's making her fat wobble, imagine what it's doing to your fat legs. I had honestly had enough of him - it wasn't even past 9 in the morning and already he was swamping my thoughts!
"Eleanor?" called the nurse. Whoop, time for me to face the facts. Time for me to jump on those scales and have my heart sink to my ankles because of all that weight gained over a week. ED really is such an ass. As I stepped on the scales, and saw the numbers tick, they settled on a surprising number. A number lower than what I weighed a week previous.
"What?" I said to myself. "That can't be right." ED was jumping for joy. But my heart sank to my ankles, anyway. I had lost weight. What was wrong with me? What is wrong with me? I'M SUPPOSED TO BE GAINING WEIGHT DAMNIT. I'm eating meals fit for a truckie. So why am I losing weight instead of gaining? ED convinced me I had put on so much fat, I could feel it on my body, I could feel myself heavier. The nurse, trying to be helpful, suggested we weigh me again in a different spot, so I did. And the numbers were different. We moved to another spot. Different numbers again. WHAT IS GOING ON? I cried. We even went into another ROOM for goodness' sake, and it was, again, different. I didn't and don't know what to believe! What do I weigh? It's a fricken mystery. I just want to know. I need to know. But nothing will give me a proper answer. My Mum relieved me by saying I wont have to be weighed every week, but every 2 or 3 weeks, which is a huge, huge weight (hah, pun not intended) off my shoulders.
YES, there is. This morning my Mother recommended me going to the doctor's to get weighed. Of course, I started freaking out and jiggling my leg and holding onto my stomach for dear life. I was nervous... Alright, I was having a major freak out. ED was being the obnoxious ass-hole he always is, reminding me how fat I must be now, after two weeks of proper re-feeding. And, shamefully, I believed in his words. Oh, Eleanor, you've gained so much this week, look, you can even see the fat. It's multiplying, growing, every single day, every mouthful is another kilo on your ass/legs/stomach/arms/face/everywhere possible. Okay, he was a real, real jerk this morning.
As I sat in the sitting in the surgery, my leg wouldn't stop moving. Mum had to tell me to stop, as it was making her chair jiggle and her "fat wobble". That made me laugh, but ED grabbed onto that and said in his painful voice if it's making her fat wobble, imagine what it's doing to your fat legs. I had honestly had enough of him - it wasn't even past 9 in the morning and already he was swamping my thoughts!
"Eleanor?" called the nurse. Whoop, time for me to face the facts. Time for me to jump on those scales and have my heart sink to my ankles because of all that weight gained over a week. ED really is such an ass. As I stepped on the scales, and saw the numbers tick, they settled on a surprising number. A number lower than what I weighed a week previous.
"What?" I said to myself. "That can't be right." ED was jumping for joy. But my heart sank to my ankles, anyway. I had lost weight. What was wrong with me? What is wrong with me? I'M SUPPOSED TO BE GAINING WEIGHT DAMNIT. I'm eating meals fit for a truckie. So why am I losing weight instead of gaining? ED convinced me I had put on so much fat, I could feel it on my body, I could feel myself heavier. The nurse, trying to be helpful, suggested we weigh me again in a different spot, so I did. And the numbers were different. We moved to another spot. Different numbers again. WHAT IS GOING ON? I cried. We even went into another ROOM for goodness' sake, and it was, again, different. I didn't and don't know what to believe! What do I weigh? It's a fricken mystery. I just want to know. I need to know. But nothing will give me a proper answer. My Mum relieved me by saying I wont have to be weighed every week, but every 2 or 3 weeks, which is a huge, huge weight (hah, pun not intended) off my shoulders.
I am not really sure what to believe. ED is still telling me I'm huge, and I've put on so much body mass. But I know within myself that it's not true, that I am, in fact, still very unhealthy. I had goosebumps in the surgery, damnit! That's not normal! I was sweating (ew) on my way to the doctors it was that hot outside. Growing big fleshy lumps on my arms under an airconditioner, on a hot day, is not normal.
Oh, what to do. I'm so conflicted right now. I'm not happy, I'm not sad, I'm... Angry, but not furious. I'm confused, dazed, puzzled, (insert-feeling-here) and I'm not at all sure what to do.
Oh, what to do. I'm so conflicted right now. I'm not happy, I'm not sad, I'm... Angry, but not furious. I'm confused, dazed, puzzled, (insert-feeling-here) and I'm not at all sure what to do.
I need a hobby. And I need to do homework. But I don't want to do homework. Oh, God. Help me! Put my mind at ease. Bless me with a puppy, or a kitten - convince my parents my little brother isn't allergic to cats and wouldn't mind having an animal indoors. GIVE ME SOMETHING SOFT AND CUTE TO CUDDLE AND CALL MY OWN.
I am a six year old girl at heart, really.
I'm hiding, somewhere.
I am a six year old girl at heart, really.
I'm hiding, somewhere.
I'll find me, somewhere.
6 comments:
I know exactly how you feel.
:)
<3 Amy
aw lovie :( i can relate so much, i also had a doctors appt today and i weighed myself this morning adn well i dont look at the doctors b/c i just go by my scale, but in the past before i had a scale at home, i would be so confused and the numbers would just taunt me and i couldn't stop thinking "what do i weigh!!?" all scales are a bit different and many different scales are not accurate.
but all that matters lovie is that you are giving your body proper nourishment that it needs and deserves, and a number is just a silly number that means nothing-in the end, all that will mater is that you are happy and healthy :)
love you sweet girl, hang in there with the body image, i know so well how hard it is, i have gained over 10 lbs in 2 months and its so hard to deal with and knowing i have to gain a lot more is so scary but we must keep fighting and not listen to our stupid mean ED voice, who is a liar !!!
xx
Eliza
*hugs* Sounds like a pretty torturous morning. My dietitian usually uses the same weighing scale to base my weight on and doesn't tend to use the weight taken by my doctor because it's different. I think it's pretty important to try to keep to the same scale even those there may still be some error there.
It's all over now love but you're stronger for it. ED always tries to make us think that we've gained way more than is true so stay objective. It's tough but you can do it. You're amazing for having got through what you did. I don't think I would have managed as well as you did!!
xx
I understand this so much, some mornings when I weigh myself I'll be 400 grams up in two weeks and I'll be like 'woah fatty - too fast' and I'll be upset, then around before dinner, ED will make me weigh myself again and I'll be either the same weight or less.
The eating disorder messes with our heads and I'm going to have to start learning that weight does fluctuate and DOES go up and down. Keep eating healthy and gaining and trying and you'll get there beautiful.
xxx love you
Scales are to annoying but my therapist once said since i was so focused on weight now its someone else turn to be focused (my therapy team) and to see how annoying i found it :o its annoying but i guess that will help fuel me in getting better i never really want to weigh myself anymore (have to but..) the thrill is gone weight it just a mass its how i feel that matters, Ed can go shoot himself. I am so sorry but it is the way it has to be at the moment its harsh but its true.
take care my lovely
This just goes to show that weight truly is just a number. Take pride in the fact that you have been treating your body with the love and respect it deserves.
Keep fighting, I know you can do it!
xo
Tat
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