I found out yesterday that I weigh way too much. I found out this morning that I actually do weigh what the scale said at the doctor, because I checked on my own scale at home (for the first time in one month), stripped of every last ounce of self-esteem. And then I melted-down. I am still melting. 

This proves that when I let things be, and stop worrying so much about what I am putting in my body and how much exercise I am doing, I gain horrific amounts of weight. There is so much proof. I wasn’t looking for it, either, it happened upon me and immediately settled on my shoulders. All of my clothes being tighter was not my imagination. The sinking feeling I had all along was validated. I was smacked in the face with a three-digit-number.

As much as the free bird in me wants to keep repeating; tomorrow is a new day, and; you are not a number, that is exhausting when it feels like your biggest fear is coming true and those phrases are responsible for allowing too much freedom and therefore for that fear to exist.

Do the next right thing, do the next right thing. But my head is screaming fuck you, positive soothsayer! I run 20 laps around the track hoping to quell the fight that escalated throughout the day. It doesn’t work. I can feel every inch of my shorts, which used to be loose. I can feel my t-shirt sleeves on my arms, and I am afraid to look down and see a protruding stomach. I am not acceptable. I am officially overweight. I have officially gone overboard in the opposite direction.  I never, ever, thought I would weigh this much, ever.    


3 thoughts on “Overboard

  1. I hear you. And I think the mental anguish at these times is hotter than at any other. It’s like mind and body mismatch and the result is that I want no more body. I almost feel like attacking myself for being so needy, weak and hungry.

    But what I do know and I am told (although I never feel this but just intellectualize it) is that we see a distortion of what other’s see, like fairground mirrors. Doesn’t help allay the feelings of being out of control and the feeling of going off into orbit but I am assured this is the truth.

    lots of love x


  2. I’m assuming that you have called yourself overweight. Our version and medical versions are very different, though our versions are the ones that have the power over our happiness and our minds.

    I know what you’re going through. They say that body image and acceptance plummet at this stage of recovery. I rationalize it like this: you’re stabbing the ED in the neck. Things that are stabbed in the neck don’t die quietly. They struggle. They scream. Loudly.

    The only thing to do is stay the course and yell louder with your healthy voice while the other one fades, which it does, with time. You are NOT a number. You are so much more: a beautiful writer, for one; a brave warrior, another.

    I wish you the best. Keep fighting. x


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