I had an appointment with my doctor today and he was extremely happy with the progress that I have made. My weight is back to what he considered “healthy” (but which the BMI scale claims as overweight) and all of my vitamins, hormones, etc. are within the normal range.
So why am I so unhappy?
I feel like a failure. I feel like I’ve failed myself. Some days I am really happy with the progress I have made and then there are days like today when I hate myself, I hate my body, I hate everything about me.
I guess what started the horrible avalanche of emotions and self-hatred is the fact that the change in seasons has brought about a need for me to wear warmer clothes: ie. jeans. The problem with this is that I wore dresses all summer and leggings for the fall so I never really noticed just how much weight I had gained. But then I had to break out the jeans.
And I cried.
The jeans that fit me perfectly 6 months ago wont even fit over my thighs now. My “goal” jeans that I initially planned to fit into when my eating disorder really took off are so tight that the waist doesn’t event come up to the half way point of my thighs. Nothing fits anymore. And to make matters worse, I got rid of all of my “fat” clothes because I vowed to myself that I would never need that size again. I promised myself I would stay skinny. And I failed myself.
So now I have two choices: go buy new pants that fit or lose the weight and fit into the old pants.
I hate to say it but the only thing I want to do is lose the weight again no matter how unhealthy it is. I don’t care. I am disgusted with the way I look right now. I hate my body and I need to do something about it. I know that I might end up in a program for eating disorders if I succeed (that’s always the threat my psychologist and doctor give me when I start losing weight again) but I don’t care. I can hide it. I can pretend I’m “just stressed” and that is the reason for not eating. I can’t believe I let myself get to this point.
But I don’t think I will ever have the same level of self control that I had before. I don’t think I will ever be “successful” with my eating disorder ever again. My bulimia used to serve a purpose to help me lose weight. Now all it does is make me feel terrible about myself.
I hate my eating disorder.
I love my eating disorder.
I need my eating disorder.