Hey girls- happy Saturday!
I'm not sure if this post is going to be triggering at all. So just to be safe, I'm going to say that it MIGHT be.
I know that I hear a lot of you girls talk about how many "looks" you got and comments you received when you were underweight. Well, I was never really one of those girls who got those comments, for a few reasons. 1. I ALWAYS wear sweatshirts and baggy pants. 2. I lift weights, so I have a lot of muscle which gives my body SOME kind of shape.
Well, I guess part of the reason that treatment was always something that I pushed off was because I didn't get these comments. I knew the scale and my doctors said I was underweight, but I had no outside confirmation.
This changed very fast.
I'm currently at my lowest weight, and as the cold weather becomes something of the past- so do the sweatshirts. In fact, just last night I was at my friends house playing pool and I got a little warm. I decided to take off my sweatshirt and the moment I did, my friends uncle (who yes, was drunk) said "I haven't been that skinny since I was 11!". Uhhh...awkward. Seeing as he wasn't a girl when he was 11. But also because now everyone's attention was drawn towards me- and I don't know these guys very well (besides my sister, they were all guys older than 21). After I took my [pathetic] shot, I quickly put my sweatshirt back on.
It was just such an eye opener for me. I've gotten the stares, but I never really asked myself WHY they were looking. I don't want to be "that skinny girl". I want to be "that fun, full-of-life girl!". I want to get stared at because I walk by with confidence and stature: not because my legs are thin.
Another "confirmation" I received was actually from a nurse. It was extremely unprofessional, and totally uncalled for- but it happened and she can't take it back.
I was getting blood-work done for Cambridge while I was at school, and as she was taking it she looked at my arm and was like "girl your arm is so skinny! Do you eat?!?!".
I'm not quite sure what she was expecting me to say. "No..no I don't."? Well, if that were the case would she go buy me lunch?
Instead, I laughed and said "yeah...but I'm getting blood work done for a reason". And ended it there.
The thing that frustrates me is that I do eat...I eat a lot. Over these past few months my eating disorder has definitely transformed. I mean, an ED is an ED- I still count calories and have fear foods and isolate myself, yaddi yadda. But I eat fear foods...and a lot of them. But then I go to the gym. For hours. Anorexia turned Exercise Bulimia? Perhaps. But a label is a label, and regardless...I need help.
And help is on it's way. In TWO days I'll be in treatment. It's terrifying. I've cried my eyes out to my mom, telling her that we need to find a different way. But she has stayed strong, something she hasn't done in the past, and instead told me that we would get through this.
Now it's on to the GOOD stuff.
I am determined. I am ready. I am relieved.
That last one plays a HUGE role in my "excitement factor".
I can't wait to go to this program and no longer have to stress about when I'm eating, what I'm eating, how much I'm exercising, if I over-ate or under-ate. It's taken care of. I'm throwing the white flag in, I'm surrendering. My life is in their hands.
Kath told me last night that I need to be the best recoverer, NOT the best anorexic.
Well girls...it looks like you have some competition for the best recoverer =P
My friend Tara also sent me over 60 songs to listen to, and add to my recovery playlist. I just wanted all of you to give one of the songs a listen. It's already helped me immensly, and hopefully it will do the same.
It's called Courage is.. by The Strange Familiar