I’m not entirely sure why, but I’m struggling a bit these days. I think part of the reason is that every time I look through suggested posts on Instagram, it shows me endless amounts of “before and after” posts from people with eating disorders. I have never been one to post one of those, mostly because it doesn’t help me personally with anything relevant. I believe sometimes they can be inspirational for people to see, but at the same time, it can be extremely triggering. I don’t really know why Instagram believes I want to see them, but it’s kind of frustrating. Same with accounts posting pictures of every food item they eat that day. Helpful for them, maybe, but not for me.
I’ve realized that both of these things have been more triggering to me as of late. I saw a post recently where someone posted their BMI. As much as these posts don’t help me, I still get drawn in to looking at them. It’s hard to explain why I purposely look at things I know will be triggering. It’s stupid, yet I can’t hold back sometimes.
So yes, BMI. Last night I saw this girls BMI that she had posted, and she was talking about how she believes it’s okay and she’s fearful of getting any higher. For whatever reason, this caused me to look up my BMI. Not really proud of these moments for me, but they happen.
I immediately became dissatisfied with what the internet said was my BMI. Shouldn’t it be different? Why have I accepted my body at this weight? Shouldn’t I try to lose weight? Shouldn’t I aim for “this” BMI instead?
It’s that damn competitiveness of my eating disorder. As horrible as it is, it’s there. I’ve always felt ashamed of this trait, because why would anyone want to compete to be more sick? Why would you want to be closer to death than the next person?
I guess I never saw it that way. My eating disorder uses other people’s numbers as a challenge for myself. I’m not trying to out-do them…I’m trying to out-do me. I’m trying to get as close to the border as possible without falling over the line.
How do we even know where the line is, though? We don’t. I learned that. Every time I have relapsed in the past few years, it has been more intense than the last. I don’t last as long with my behaviors without an actual medical scare. I can’t “restrict like I used to”, as I would put it. My body no longer tolerates it.
I found this to be incredibly frustrating for a good while. Why couldn’t I be like I used to? Why couldn’t I meet the goals I used to without falling over? Am I becoming worse at my ED than before?
This whole thought process is laced with inaccuracies. It should be a good thing that my body is protesting. It lets me know that something isn’t right. However, communication with my body has never been my strong suit. I’ve never enjoyed it much.
One of my thoughts today was that maybe I should buy a scale. It wouldn’t be that bad, right? I’m in recovery still, so it’s just merely to track health…right?
I think those justifications I have made are false. I’m pretty sure that if I bought a scale, it would become an obsession, just like every other time I’ve bought a scale in my life. I am in a different place now, but this one thing would not be different this time around.
It’s hard to know I’m being irrational, yet still have the constant thoughts (that are very convincing). I don’t like being in battle with my mind several times throughout the day. I don’t want to admit to anyone in my life that I’m struggling with these thoughts. First of all, it seems like defeat. Secondly, I feel stupid since I’ve been outpatient for awhile now (like this shouldn’t be happening in the first place). Third, I already know what to do (I’ve been taught how I should respond via treatment, but sometimes I honestly don’t care). And four, it’d be proving my psychiatrist correct that I am struggling and need support. And we wouldn’t want that, would we?
I don’t know. Again, I know I am being irrational. Story of my life. I don’t like admitting I’m struggling. Yet here I am, admitting I’m struggling.
This post has been kind of all over the place, so if you’d made it this far, I appreciate you for listening(/reading).
What I am trying to tell myself is this: I am human. I have an eating disorder. Just because I am in recovery/haven’t been in a higher level of care in awhile, doesn’t mean I am immune to struggle. Some days are better than others, and maybe this is just a hard day. If I were immune to struggle, I wouldn’t be able to relate as well to anyone else…meaning finding support/help would be much more difficult. Relating to anyone would be near impossible, and relating to one another is important in recovery (at least for me). I can’t help anyone else if I’m ignoring helping myself. It’s contradictory.
I will continue this day off watching Netflix and snuggling with my cat…because she makes everything better.
-December 30, 2016