Ten years of eating disorder recovery, where have you gone? My recovery has looked so different with each year.
At the start, I ate too much because I was so fearful of giving myself even an inch, afraid I might tumble a mile. After several years I learned some portion control on my (ahem) ice-cream and cookie consumption.
(Homemade chocolate chip cookies are still my go-to of choice–I just eat them much more responsibly.)
Then, being in a relationship helped my recovery. My boyfriend–now husband–encouraged me, and being with him made me want to be a better person. He has always been supportive of me in amazing ways. He’s even learned to plead the fifth when I ask a question of him he knows there is no right answer for. He constantly affirms me and has been an all-around amazing aspect of my recovery. (Here is an interview I did with him regarding my recovery and our relationship.)
Over the years my eating disorder faded. And faded. And faded. I’ve semi-recently blogged about how I’ve stopped stepping on a scale and how freeing that has been for me. At the start of my recovery, I couldn’t do it. The idea of not weighing myself and knowing the number was terrifying. But after nine years I got tired of the constant struggle to conform to the numbers.
If I weigh more than I should I’ll eat less/If I weight less than I should I’ll give myself permission to eat more/ Let’s see if running more will help me lose weight/Was that weight gain muscle or fat? ~These are all thoughts and struggled directly related to the scale.
You might be thinking I’ve strayed far from the object of this post and wondered, what did you do at your last doctor’s appointment that was so terrifying? But all of this is leading up to it.
When I went to the doctor in 2017 for my meds check-up I was at the beginning of my no-scale-test. I wasn’t sure how long I would not weigh myself so I looked at the numbers. I think that was the last time knew what I weighed. Until last year, I’ve always wanted to see the number. Always.
A few months ago I had a lot of stress leading up to my next appointment because I couldn’t decide if I wanted to look or not. My poor husband had to deal with my anxiety.
He said “If you wanna look, look. But if you don’t, don’t.”
“But I’ll feel stupid if I choose to stand on the scale backward.”
“Then don’t. Face forward.”
“But if I stand forward I’ll see the number and I don’t want to see the number.”
“Then stand backward.”
“But I do want to know the number.” (See how many opportunities this man has to be frustrated with me? I can’t make up my mind and frequently want
I didn’t know what I would do until I got to the doctor’s office. I couldn’t make up my mind!
The nurse came to the waiting room and called my name.
I stood and followed her.
She brought me to the scale.
I looked at her and said, “Is it okay if I stand backward? I don’t want to see the number.”
Yes, this is a true story, those words came out of my mouth! And you know what she said!?
She smiled and said, “I do that too.”
So, I did something I have never voluntarily done before and stood on the scale backward. AND the nurse helped me not feel stupid while doing it. The action was scary, but I’m glad I did it. I still don’t know how much I weigh.
And I’m okay with that.
In fact, I’m happy.
If you’re reading this post you might have struggled with an eating disorder like me. I would love if you subscribed to my blog HERE. My book The Kaleidoscope Girl which comes out later this year was written from my heart for girls with eating disorders. Hope you see you around!