I am a prisoner in a cell of my own making.
Each morning, I stand upon the Scales of Justice to determine if today will be the day, that I set myself free.
I cannot bear the thought of not knowing my weight.
I cannot bear the thought of knowing my weight.
No matter the number, I find a reason to turn the result into an excuse to indulge in disordered eating.
If I’ve lost weight, it won’t be enough. I need to lose “just a little bit more” so I have leeway – when it all stacks back on. If I’ve lost weight I need to perpetuate the purging and the restricting because that’s how I lost it in the first place. If I’ve lost weight it’s probably only because I’m dehydrated today or not as constipated as yesterday – it couldn’t possibly be because I’ve actually lost a gram of fat. If I’ve lost weight it’s because I haven’t exercised enough and my muscle has turned back to fat.
If I’ve gained weight it’s because I’m a failure. If I’ve gained weight it’s because I binged and I didn’t purge enough, or restrict. If I’ve gained weight it’s because I’m weak-willed and gluttonous. If I’ve gained weight I need to stop eating – just like I promised I would do yesterday. If I’ve gained weight everyone will notice how fat I’m becoming and judge every ounce of my existence. If I’ve gained weight all my clothes make me look fat – even the clothes I wore less than 24 hours ago.
Lose, lose. The story of my life. Arbitrary boundaries and rules placed upon myself, setting me up to fail, imprisoning me in a life I didn’t choose to enter, but I have chosen not to leave.
Each morning, I stand upon the Scales of Justice to determine if today will be the day, that I set myself free.
I know – deep in the deepest part of my heart and soul – that the only way to set myself free, is to be rid of the Scales of Justice. As long as I stand upon them, in judgment of myself, I will never be free. One day, I will be free.