I had my initial appointment with the dietitian today.
I am sure this woman is well- used to her clients lying to her, telling her what she wants to hear and denying what she tells them. I am sure that she has been looked at in horror, laughed at, cried upon and maybe even been verbally abused. No, definitely.
I went willingly to my appointment. I requested it. I may be depressed and eating disordered but my need to be a good girl will always win out. So I am trying to be a good anorexic depressed person.
Here are the thoughts going through my head as I walk down the psych hospital corridor to outpatients:
1. Trying to strike the balance between walking without a care in the world and avoiding eye contact in case I bump into anyone from work (yes I work in the neighbouring hospital).
2. This won’t be too bad- all of the staff here so far have been great and she will be on my side.
3. Why is there a baby changing room there- babies should never be brought into a place like this! Oh. Unless their Mum is suffering from post-natal depression. Or a relapse of their ED triggered by post-natal depression. Or BY PREGNANCY! (more on this later)
4. How hard can this be?
So we met and we sat down and we got straight too it. I was honest. I explained the history- usually have on and off trouble with bulimia but over last 6 months have suffered depression and lost my appetite and motivation to eat which has spiralled into a mood and anorexia shit storm and I have lost weight,
Dietitian: how do you feel about your weight
Me: I don’t think I’m dangerously or even concerningly underweight and I am no longer losing weight (lie # 1 but I don’t know this as she hasn’t weighed me yet). I am just trying to keep things stable- I am happy with my weight because it is under control and therefore I don’t have to spend time thinking about how I should lose weight- which as most women know is a massive drag.
2: D: what do you want from this appointment?
Me: for you to tell me if this weight is unsafe and if I am doing myself any harm because right now it is working for me.
Dietitian weighs and measure my height. Have lost teensy tiny 0.2 kilos but the downward trend however miniscule persists. BMI indicates underweight. There is a chart with swathes of colour indicating what level of healthiness your BMI corresponds with- orange is good. Red is overweight. I am yellow. I am on the edge of yellow and blue.
She wants me to be in the orange. The weight she advises for me is a no-go never-ever.
She tells me I am without doubt infertile right now. This is reversible.
She tells me that I am at risk of osteoporosis. This is not reversible. I need 4 servings of dairy a day- to be fair dairy is one thing I am ace at so one extra serving will be easy.
The meal plan she gives me is not outrageous but it seems unlikely to me. There is so much further I need to be along the recovery route mentally before I can take thus on. I say as much (truth). I say I will try (truth). I say it seems reasonable (lie) but there is not really anything reasonable about an ED. On this we agreed.
theefexordiaries 