fbpx

Tag: eating disorder

BANDED

In April 2012 I was 46 years old. I’d battled weight my entire life and I was tired. All the weight I’d previously lost was back on – again. All the tricks I’d used before were failing. I tried eating less, exercising more, eating more, exercising less. Shakes and weird shit and anything I could think of. I was still fat and getting fatter. So in tears and desperation, I made an appointment to see an obesity surgeon on a Thursday. He had a cancellation the following Monday. I booked in, had a gastric lap band fitted, and changed my life.

RESTRICTED

At a support group last year, however, one lovely lady mentioned something I’d never been told before. Something I’d never considered. You’re bingeing because you restrict, she said. I thought that was hilarious.

IN MY OWN TIME

It is absolutely true that many people who commence recovery – from anything – progress at a faster rate. They make changes and those changes stick, perhaps with some small relapses, but a fairly linear recovery process. That’s awesome – I wish I was one of those people! But I’m not…

IT’S A ROLLER COASTER

Everything we do in life, we do because it’s the thing we want to do the most at the time. When I choose to binge or purge, at the moment in time it is preferable to being healthy. I’m getting something out of it – numbing my emotions, punishing myself, weight control. There’s always something that feels like a positive – a backhanded false positive.

DOWNS & UPS

I have a lot of pain at the moment – I may even have to start admitting my pain is chronic. I’m hesitant to accept that label though – it feels like giving up. But when I’m in pain all the time, I feel tired all the time. And when I’m tired all the time, I have declines with mental health stuff. And of course if you know the first thing about me, you’ll know most of my mental health stuff revolves around eating issues.

END OF AN ERA

See that picture? That’s my toes. Pointing at a blank spot. A blank spot where my scales have sat since we renovated the bathroom about 12 years ago. (Before that they sat somewhere else…) For as long as I can remember, I have weighed myself first thing every morning – day in day out. Like clockwork. A special, comforting routine. I’d climb out of bed, empty bladder, strip naked, stare at fateful numbers.