Ok, I confess my last post was written out of despair.
I’ve gained weight and that shows. It’s not that “fake” water thing or muscle. It’s Weight. To be exact – it’s FAT.
A couple of days ago, my bf actually said Yes! to my complaining – which I do almost daily of how bad I look and how huge I am – to my bigger thighs – They are fuller. And I love it!
Hello, Man! I don’t care you love it – I’m fat!
This notion made me do the thing I was avoiding for long time. I weighted myself.
This was one fucking brilliant idea forever and ever! This made my ed pirouette. How good for it – how not amazing for me!
I’ve read many other bloggers’ posts about dealing with weight gain and my comments to them have always been something like, “Do not worry about the number on the scale! You know that your body needs the extra food, and your weight will just balance itself out as long as you eat relatively healthy when you are hungry. Don’t compare yourself now to anyone. I know that it’s hard, but you can’t give in to restriction. That will just undermine all of the progress you have made thus far.” Blah blah blah!
So I just read what I typed, applying it to myself. Wow. How can the same person that says and knows these things so well have such a hard time following her own advice?
All in all, though, I am doing SO well. Yes, I have gained weight. Yes, I weigh more than I EVER have in recovery. And it’s uncomfortable; it is hard. It’s hard because I don’t know whether this is the weight I’m supposed to be or if it is too much or still too little. My BMI is around 19, maybe a little less. I know that BMI is just a dumb number as well! It’s just that I don’t know when the weight gain should stop.
OK, weight gain is not the end of the world. Actually, you, guys remind me of all the progress I have made and tell me how proud you are of me every day.
It really hits home that I have made so much progress.. Yes, my road to recovery hasn’t always been smooth, but hey I am working so hard. I already eat some of my fear foods (hello fruit, potatoes) *most of them*. I go out to eat without freaking out. I overeat sometimes, too often in my opinion, but I’m still learning. The best thing about recovery is the lack of obsession with food. I used to freak out about what I would eat 24/7!, what I would order at the restaurant, how many freaking pickles I consumed, etc..
Now I live my life without worrying about these things. Food isn’t the most fearful thing. Yes, I love learning about food and nutrition, I’m still a little scared but food isn’t the enemy. It’s fuel.
So finally to get back to the point of this post, the most difficult thing I’m dealing with at the moment is self-image. I feel like 1XX looks so much bigger than 115. My bf thinks I’m ridiculous. What is 1, 2, 5 pounds? he asks.
It’s not necessarily the number. I can tell that my body is changing.
I don’t have the abs I used to. There is now a little bit of flab there. I have extra skin between my thighs, and my calves don’t seem as trim as before. I also have this paranoia feeling like everyone’s looking at me and thinking, “Wow, she’s been getting a little too friendly with that Brie cheese lately, huh?”
I’m praying that I come to terms with my body and find my ‘normal/ideal’ weight without too much fear and obsession over the number on the scale or the image in the mirror.
But you have no idea how tempted I am to diet or restrict at the moment. Just a little, just for that shape sake.
Gosh, my brain hurts!
Sorry for the rant.
Have a wonderful weekend!
So good! Haha! Any wine lovers here?