Tug of war- letting go of restricting.

We go one way, then we go another way. Forwards and back. The grass starts to get thread-bare, then completely worn away. Heels are digging in completely now.

I really, honestly do not know what to do. I have lost track of what “normal” eating is. I have lost track of what my body is supposed to look like. Supposed to feel like. My fingers find the bones of my chest. Ribs- I count them and rub them like a talisman. They protrude a little. When people hug me or rub my back it embarrasses me a bit- the knobs.

Now I’m not Skeletor (He-man reference). I don’t look “anorexic”. And I’m not. I am underweight but people don’t look at me and think “eeeek!”.

My dietitian thinks I should be about 1.5 stones heavier than I am. Now come on- I have never been that weight in my life and never intend to be. She very seriously tells me that at my current weight I would not be able to conceive. However my blood results are all within normal range, I manage to live a pretty normal life and my hair’s not falling out so I’m obviously not that bloody underweight. Also I get lots of calcium. So why can’t I just continue as I am?

But I’m not sure about how I look. The chest is obviously bony. I’ve always been small on top but now it’s super small. The shoulders are a bit pointy. But my stomach and thighs have never been like this before. Am I prepared to have a bony upper body just so that I can have slim thighs?

Eh. Yes. It would appear so.

I know I know I KNOW that men find slightly curvier women more attractive. Whevs. I am not doing this for men. I am doing it for my own sense of inner peace with my weight.

It could be just a phase. Normality might creep back in..

Yes, OK, I’ll give that a try….and other lies I told my Dietitian.

 

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.

Over my head

Grrr. Angry right now.

Discovered that my father in law called my mother (who lives in another country) to tell her that he is concerned about my weight. Oh Jesus. I have lost a little weight but nothing that most people would notice. I work in a healthcare profession so I understand what is safe and what isn’t safe better than most people. I am not in an unsafe state with my weight.

I am also an adult- a real life grown-up. I also have a very anxious mother.

So you can imagine my anger to discover that this concerned conversation was going on behind my back. Em, could you just have spoken to me about it?

So my mother had “the talk” with me when I went home this weekend. She agreed, after seeing me with her own eyes that although slim I did not look “dangerously thin”. She told me that she had a dream that she was at my funeral. Oh God. This is the kind of anxiety-overdrive thing that I like to protect my mother from by not making concerned phonecalls to her. I do this because I am an adult and I can take other people’s feelings into consideration.

BTW I am 30 years old. Come on. So will have to have some kind of uncomfortable conversation with my father in law about this. Cringe.

What is it about weight that people feel is public property to discuss. Weight loss signifies an emotional problem, a disorder, a crises. Weight gain signifies laziness, letting yourself go. 

Starting to understand what pregnant women feel like- privacy is gone.

I am sure that this can all be explained by parents need to “be parents”. Even when their children are grown ups, who have jobs, own their own houses, are married, have children of their own, they see them as their little one.