I’ve been absent from the blog world lately, which is owing to two things:
1. My computer completely died. My parents were kind enough to cough up the $200 to get it fixed for my upcoming birthday and so I’m finally able to log in to wordpress without having to clear a computer’s history every time I do so.
2. I have not wanted to deal with my eating disorder.
Yes, there you have it: I have an eating disorder. I think this has probably been blatantly obvious to most people around me for some time, but I have really avoided putting that label on it. There is something deeply, intensely shameful about the fact that I am turning TWENTY FIVE in less than two weeks and struggling with an eating disorder. And not even a good one. Not Otherwise Specified. All of the criteria for anorexia nervosa are met except that, despite substantial weight loss, the individual’s current weight is in the normal range. Read: I’m still too fat.
Of course, that is the eating disorder talking. It’s really quite difficult to for me to say from a healthy place that I am “too fat” or even “fat” at all, knowing full well that my nutritionist wants me to gain weight. I am still trying to wrap my mind around maintaining this current weight, and to be honest, would like to lose another 10 or 15 pounds. No big deal, I’ve got it to spare. (Or not. But how would I know? 10 or 15 pounds is completely arbitrary, given that I am not allowed to know my weight and haven’t seen my weight in weeks.)
But I digress. The main point of this blog is to say that I have an eating disorder and I am doing everything in my power to avoid dealing with that. I have, for the past two weeks, met my calorie count every day. Every. Freaking. Day. Do I like to think about that? No. Do I find a million and one ways to distract myself from the fact that I feel like a failure every time I put food in my mouth? Yes.
I have managed to completely numb out everything these past weeks and just go full speed ahead with what I know I have to do. Hooray! That’s good, right? It would be, I suppose, if this had anything to do with food. Which it doesn’t.
It has everything to do with how I feel utterly unworthy of anything good or pleasant. It has everything to do with the fact that I am ashamed of myself, of who I am and the fact that I am not who I could be. Everything to do with the fact that I cannot seem to get it through my thick head that I am a beloved daughter of God.
After last week’s session, my nutritionist called my counselor and left a message saying that I was getting worse and it scared her. That it was time, at the very least, to start seeing a new counselor, one with more extensive experience in the treatment in eating disorders. And today, half of my nutrition appointment was devoted to the topic of going away to treatment. My nutritionist mentioned a program that she has seen work for girls in the past, a Christian-based program. A FREE Christian-based program.
It’s not the first time this program has been mentioned to me. In fact, it’s the third time. Three different people, none of whom know each other, have suggested it. It would seem that God is really trying to get his message through. My homework for this week is to fill out the preliminary application.
Is this blog completely incoherent? Yes, I thought so. My mind is reeling.