So, it's NEDAwareness Week, spreading the word about eating disorders and recovery. However, I'm having a pretty shitty one body image and eating wise.
I've been bingeing a lot lately, which is my absolute least favorite behavior, as I'm sure it is for everyone who has it. I've been good about other behaviors, which I haven't really engaged in on a regular basis in over three years now. It's just weird because for the past couple months, I've certainly been restricting.
I really hate my body. I know I shouldn't. I know boys like it and stuff, but I hate it. I'm not skinny and I'm not athletic. I don't have very many visible muscles, except my calves and my arms. I just want to be tiny again and I want to stop this.
So of course, as always happens once I realize I'm bingeing, I resort to restricting. Again. And I start work again tonight at the place with the gym so what will I be doing Tuesday and Thursday nights at ten? Of course. Running my heart away for a half hour.
I know that I have a perfect body, just the way it is. It works. I'm a pretty girl, I know that. But I've never been called beautiful by a man before, in like a serious way. This one boy definitely likes my body.
But then again, two weeks ago I was significantly thinner than I am now.
The weight fluctuation is what really kills me. I was so stable for so long and then I was busy and tired and sick and I couldn't run anymore. When I exert myself, my lungs hate me. I should stop smoking. I keep meaning to. And then I don't.
My body basically hates me. And I hate it. And it leads to an endless vicious circle.
I know this blog is supposed to be mainly positive and pro-recovery, but I'm not feeling it today, which is bad... it being NEDA week and all that. But I can't help how I feel. I'm trying to. I'm glad that I'm not as anxious as I was before. I'm glad about that. But I seriously just am hating my stomach. My digestive system is not cooperating at all, probably because I haven't been feeding myself well at all for the past week.
I had a good conversation with a friend of mine last night who had an eating disorder when he was in middle school. It's good to know because he said he'll always be there for me, to listen and to feed me, which is awesome. He's a great friend. But at the same time, he pointed out that some of the stuff I did during dinner last night was eating disorder behavior, like hiding the food I didn't eat wrapped in napkins, especially food he didn't see me get.
I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm twenty-two, almost twenty-three, years old and I don't want this anymore. And yet here I am, slipping, so close to almost two years out of recovery, a new record. I hate it.
I don't want to go back into treatment and I don't want to stop this. I can't handle it right now. I need a new mindset.
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