I have been doing very well as far as my anorexia goes. But I’ve also been gaining a lot of weight. I’m actually a little okay with it, but I have this growing fear that I’m going to get to a severely heavy weight. How do I lose this weight without going as far as I usually go? The only way I know to lose weight is to watch what I eat. But that starts off well… then goes to counting calories… which leads to an internal mind vs body competition of how few calories I can still function on.
Exercise would be a great option. If I didn’t have a torn meniscus in both knees, arthritis in both knees, and Raynaud’s making my feet burn so bad I can’t take it. Are these excuses? Yes. I could push through the pain, I could do yoga, or swim. But instead I think of working out and just groan. I don’t even have the energy to look up places with an indoor pool to swim laps in. How can I actually get up, get dressed, and drive to a pool if I can’t even Google search?
I can’t tell if I’m getting low or not. I’ve started new medicine which is making me very tired. It’s helping with the pain on my shoulders and neck, but I nod off randomly during the day. If I increase my caffeine intake any more, than my anxiety will start taking over again. When I’m anxious, I pick at my skin, and yes, it’s as cringy as it sounds. It started on my chest, but now I’m working on my face and neck. It’s to the point already that I am wondering if I should wear make-up whenever I leave the house. Which, thanks to quarantine, isn’t that often. So it’s a fun line to dance on, enough caffeine to function without too much caffeine causing me to become anxious.
My mood, especially if it’s low, really affects my anorexia. My thoughts tell me it isn’t anorexia if you’re overweight. That I don’t need food, I have enough fat on my body that it can burn for energy to make up for the lack of food intake. All of which I know to be ridiculous. But that’s a huge issue for the mentally ill. People think we’re just stupid, that we just need to learn that we’re wrong. We know our thoughts are messed up, but that doesn’t mean the thoughts still aren’t able to take us over. I know my body won’t survive off my body fat instead of food. I also know, that if I stop eating I’ll eventually binge. That doesn’t stop my mind from harassing me with evil and vile thoughts whenever I open my mouth for food. There are times I cry at the self-hatred being chanted in my head as I eat. It doesn’t stop, but sometimes it’s not so loud I can’t breathe.
All of this knowing doesn’t stop me from staring at food and doubting if I should eat. It doesn’t stop me looking in the mirror and seeing an infinite amount of reasons to just stop eating all together. It’s an illness, an illness made worse by another illness. Right now, I’m forcing myself to go through the motions and make food to eat. I disconnect from the sensations of food in my mouth, of me chewing and swallowing. I go somewhere in my mind when I eat that will help me forget that I am, in fact, eating. That means I don’t enjoy food, I don’t even taste it. When my hand/fork hits an empty plate, then I know I must be done. It’s a truly sad experience, but it’s a hundred times better than the alternative.