I got covered in syrup while eating breakfast.
No, okay. Just kidding. Breakfast did not involve anything that would have required syrup. (Lunch did though. Hehe.)
I’m referring to the fact that during my appointment today, my dietitian noted that my weight was down “quite a bit.” It’s a, well, sticky situation. As a dietitian with an eating disorder client, you have to keep tabs on your client and if she’s losing weight, you’ve got to stop it somehow. But how do you do that without letting on to the fact that she’s losing weight, thus fueling her eating disorder? Even if you increase her supplements or restrict her exercise, she’s smart enough to figure out that her weight is down, which leads to this 30 minute conversation in her head while driving home:
Dictator*: Lost weight, eh? So if you keep up what you’ve been doing, nobody would accuse you of restricting or overexercising (except D) and you could lose a few more. The last few they made you gain in Utah were completely superfluous anyway.
Me: No, I really trust my D. If she says I need to drink the boost and pull back on exercise, then I need to do that.
Dictator: Sure, but what if she’s wrong and you didn’t REALLY lose weight? She weighed you in the morning this time, as opposed to the evening like she usually does. What’s her frame of reference, anyway? Have you lost “quite a bit” since she last weighed you, or since you returned from Utah. The two are very different, you know.
Me: Yeah, I know. But the point is I lost weight when I’m supposed to be maintaining. And I’m starting to feel like you’re taking over my brain a little more and I’m getting afraid of certain foods again and won’t eat them. That didn’t happen in Utah. I might have been afraid, but I still ate it. I need to eat more and add more variety and drink the boosts like D suggested.
Dictator: You’re going to get even fatter than you are now.
Me: Maybe. You can shut up now, please.
So I’m headed to Tennessee for the weekend to celebrate my grandmother’s birthday and left myself all of an hour to eat lunch and pack after I got back from my appointment. Great planning, right? My dietitian said I should just run by Chic-Fil-A and grab a sandwich and fruit and have some chips from home with it. “No, no, I said. We have to eat on the road tonight and then I’d be eating fast food twice in one day!”
She gasped very dramatically and said, “Oh my goodness, that would be terrible.” (I love my dietitian)
Instead, I ate some leftovers from last night (far too late for lunch), but got back on track at 3:00 pm snack. No telling, however, if my family is going to stop at exactly 6:00 pm for me to eat dinner. Whatever. You don’t care about that.
At any rate, I was packing and in addition to clothes and toiletries and a million and five books, I packed a couple of these guys:
Please note the extreme excitement on my face. I am SO PSYCHED for supplements! (Shoot me.)
The point is, I’m taking care of my recovery this weekend and I hope you’ll do the same.
*I do not call my eating disorder “Ed” or “Edie” or anything like that. I call it The Dictator because the voice sounds a lot like my own, with a hint of Fidel Castro.