You may want to cover your eyes…things are about to get scary. As in “find out what happens when Missy stops being polite and starts getting real" scary. My recovery is “all fun and games” until somebody (<–me) starts gaining weight.
I reach a point where I’ve gained a certain amount of weight and proceed to lose my head. I’ve reached that point again, right on schedule. This time, I’m more aware.
My eating disorder manifests itself in a very visceral, physical manner. It’s not about a number on a scale or comparing myself to others. It’s about the way I feel in my own skin. I never know how much I weigh at this point its all about how I feel.
I FEEL every iota of flesh gained as a physical impediment. It’s like a schizophrenic hallucination. I have trouble walking, I notice every single touch of fabric on my flesh, I can’t get comfortable, I itch. It’s hard to explain. (I told you it was scary.)
The problem is I’m not overweight (duh). I’m not gaining weight from consuming more calories than my body needs. I am simply feeding myself. I KNOW all this.
But I feel like I’m walking around in a 15-pound suit of bubble wrap. It’s hard. It’s scary. It’s insane.
Will I be able to adapt to this weight? Is this mental and physical discomfort ever going to go away? Years have gone by, I’ve reached this point again and again. My brain takes control. I salvage my own comfort. That’s why I’m still here…trying to recover.
I’ve never made the conscious choice to lose weight, auto-pilot took over. This time I’m awake — going backwards would be a conscious action not sleepwalk. I’d be giving up and I’d know it. That scares me stupid.
Faced with FEAR, I have a choice:
On one hand is the option to
*ahem* F Everything And Run
On the other hand I can choose to
Face Everything And Recover
I’m ready to wash this FEAR off my hands.
Ah…what won’t I do to illustrate a point?
- Ever conquered a “Fear Factor” point of your own?
- Any times in your recovery where you hit “the wall”?
- What are you scared of?