"Listen to the words that others can't speak; speak the words that others can't hear."

Sunday, September 9, 2012

No weights, calories, numbers or body talk, ever.

I've gained weight.

I've been to several doctors lately and it is only natural that they ask me for my weight. Truth is that I have absolutely no idea how much I weigh and as much as I want to know, I also know it's best if I don't... but I feel like shit because I know I've gained and nothing scares me more than that.

Not my health status,
Or a car accident,
or finances,
or even death.

Nothing scares me more than gaining weight.

For the past few months I've stopped wearing fitting clothes and jeans and blouses... and practically everything in my closet; I've resorted to buying Nike shorts and stretchy pants. Elastic has become my best friend.

I knew that recovery meant eating again and keeping it down, I knew it meant talking about feelings and fears and such, but I never figured that I, someone who has managed to stay in my "ideal weight range", would have to gain. I mean, I knew that I'd probably gain some due to dehydration and whatnot, but... well, you get my point.

Tonight I decided that it was about time to wear 'real' clothes again... My favorite size 5 jeans don't fit me anymore. I remember the day that a friend complimented me on my jeans and asked what size they were. I remember how she congratulated me and she told me how awesome it was that I wasn't a size so and so anymore and I'd finally reached an ideal size. I had lost a lot of weight by then and I really wasn't healthy, but that day those jeans became my favorite and my goal was always to fit in those or smaller.

For some reason or other, as I fought strong urges tonight, Evita (what I've named my eating disorder) told me that those are the jeans I should try on first.

I shouldn't have done it.
I shouldn't have done it.
I shouldn't have done it. 

But I did. And I don't know where to go from here.

Questions like "Do I look different?", "Can others see?", "How much?" and "Why?" are storming my head right now. I feel like I can't breathe and I really want to cry. This horrible disease builds you up in recovery and makes you think you're doing better then all of a sudden it tears you down and leaves you stranded. I hate this... but even Evita doesn't scare me as much as weight gain does and I don't know what to do.

I write this now not for attention, I write because I want others to know what this is like. It's not a diet, it's not something someone can just 'get over'. It's not about grabbing the bull by the horns and it's not about responsibility. It's just so much more than that.... so so so much more.

If you read this please don't answer any of the questions I asked above... Please don't try to convince me that it will be okay or that things are not as they seem. Right now, my truth is what my mind is telling me. Right now, I refuse to believe otherwise but hopefully tomorrow will be different.. hopefully someday these thoughts won't run through my head.

I believe that someday it will be insignificant.


Someday I'll be free.