I normally would not write two blog posts in one day, but today has been a rough day for me, and since I said this blog would be nothing but the truth, I told myself I would write this post. I don’t exactly want to write it because by writing it, it forces me to face my feelings even more, but I want to be truthful to myself. I also am hoping that by writing out what I am going through in this moment, that it might be a sense of relief.
On Monday when I went to the nutritionist, she did not give me a meal plan (but to my disliking, she ensured me that the meal plan would definitely be given to me next Monday).
Instead, she told me to keep a food journal this week of everything that I eat. At first, this didn’t phase me at all. I was actually relieved that I walked out of her office pretty much given a green light to keep on my own “meal plan” for myself-a meal plan that although consists of major calorie increases for me, will not be accepted by her.
I have been keeping this food journal for a few days now and as I am looking over it, I have realized that I really do not eat as many calories as I told the nutritionist I was, yet I am pushing myself every single day to consume these daily meals and it is extremely hard for me.
While I am content with my current calorie intake, I do not think she is going to accept that as adequate calories for my meal plan, and in a way I am thankful for that because I know I need the nutrients, but on the other hand, that scares me to pieces.
This made me think about what is going to happen on Monday when I go back to the nutritionist and she will give me a meal plan that might even be double the calories of what I am already eating. I already believe that I am at a high enough weight just by what I see in the mirror and I think the few pounds I have gained from increasing my calories is enough, and at the moment, I really do not want to gain more.
I know that this meal plan she will give me will be one designed to help me eat more because while she did not say how much I weighed, she did tell me that my BMI was 18, and that she would like me to be at a healthy BMI of 20–which for a girl my height and age is 99 pounds.
On one hand, I am relieved because I see that she is not wanting to make me fat and obese, but on the other hand, 99 pounds is a number I cannot accept right now. I know one day I will be, and that I will have to, but right now I can’t. I can’t accept it right now because although I don’t know what I currently weigh, I know it is not 99 and whatever number I’m at now, it is enough for me to deal with at this moment.
The fact is that I won’t even know when I will reach that weight because as you all know, I am not looking at a scale until at least next January 21 (I actually hope to never look at a number again, but I am trying to avoid making extreme goals for myself, and just sticking to one goal at a time, so for now, that goal is next January 21).
So, here is where my immense fear of recovery sets in. If I already believe I am getting bigger, what will I think when I actually have to start following this meal plan next week? What will I think when I start gaining more weight, and how am I going to handle it?
Right now, I am pretty much in a state of panic and anxiety.
This fear of what recovery is going to do to my precious “skinny” body is extremely over whelming.
I still am not sure if I should publish this post because it is so raw and truly is exposing my deepest feelings and fears right now—and that is a scary thought for me. But I am doing this for me-I said I would document every feeling, every emotion and every good day and bad day, so that is what I am doing.
Right now I am scared. I am scared for what recovery is going to do to my body and I am scared about how I am going to mentally deal with it.
But on the positive side, I know that this feeling of fear is simply just that; a feeling. It is a feeling that will come and go, and although it is dominating me at this current moment, it does not mean that it will do that all day.
And no matter how scared I am of recovery, nothing in this world-not fear and not even my eating disorder, can take away my immense desire to live a life of self acceptance and freedom- a life free from this prison that my eating disorder is forcing me to live in-and to that I can say, “hello life.”