I remember very early on in my treatment my gp asking me what percentage of my time do I spend thinking about food/diet/eating/exercise - and I replied very matter-of-factly, because it didn't occur to me that it was a problem, that it was all I thought about. I was very happy with this. These thoughts made me happy. I loved thinking about what I was going to eat. About planning my day ahead. About calculating calories in and calories out - and then being rewarded for my excellence with the tumbling numbers on the scale.
I miss this so much. Now those bloody numbers just go up. They mock me and my failure.
My thoughts were so comforting then. They were not scary, and dark, and mean, and unkind. They were bright and happy and kept me company.
I don't know at what point they changed from being light and breezy thoughts to being crushing dark thoughts, but I long to get back to the point before. The point where they filled my every waking moment - but still made me happy.
Was this ever true though? I feel sure that it was. But I'm also sure that everyone on my treatment team would try to tell me that it was never the case. That my thoughts were never good or comforting or warm. That they were my nasty, manipulative ED voice that I must stamp out and not listen to.
But I'm not so sure. I really feel that before I lost control of it, it was a comforting thing. Almost a hobby.
What annoys me the most, I guess, is that everyone else in the world is allowed to have these thoughts, are allowed to want to lose weight and plan for how they will do - and they are praised, not made to feel dirty and guilty.
It's very confusing wanting to hang on to something that everyone else says is wrong. I just want to go back to how I felt before everyone explained eating disorders to me. Before everyone else decided there was something wrong with me.
I don't think there is anything wrong with me. I'm sorry, but I don't. I know I'm not supposed to say this. I know I'm supposed to have moved past this and accept like a good little girl that I have a problem that everyone else wants to fix for me. But quite frankly I have just run out of things to say to everyone.
I'm overweight. I'm enormous. I don't exercise. I eat. I hate myself in a way I never did before.
I never argued with my gp before. I never looked away in shame when she talked to me before. I never resented people's help before. I never cried like this before. I never froze up and just completely lost the ability to speak before. I never cut myself before. I never burnt myself before. I never had so little control over every aspect of my life before. I was never this exhausted before. I never had so much unwashed laundry before. I was never this isolated from my family before.
Rambling again. No answers again tonight. Sorry, I guess eventually if I just keep writing I'll find a point.
No guarantees though.