in fifth gear.
I'm going to try and make this journal somewhere that I can write whatever I feel like, rather than concentrating on ED's. From a personal perspective, I wouldn't suggest I have an ED. I'm not stupid - I know there are various traits that people who are suffering from the condition go through and I am not at that stage. I do not use ED related communities or forums because I "want" an ED, or because I think it's desirable; I know only too well how shit life feels when you constantly counting calories/attempting to exercise.
To be honest, I'm not really sure. All I know is that I started to lose weight sensibly and then each day I thought about what I could cut down today. I technically go to Weight Watchers, and use the Points system, and initially I was using them all bar a few, and now I'm on 24 - I use about 10.
The idiotic thing is I know this kind of existence isn't sustainable. I don't want to die; I have no intention on committing suicide or anything remotely close. I feel that I am in a much better position mentally that I have been in a long time; although I am on medication and will be for the rest of my life, I am no longer cutting/self harming and I'm able to function on a normal (ish) level. I don't know whether this makes me poles apart from the "norm" in restricting, but as a general rule, I am not woefully unhappy - just absolutely disgusted with my body.
The thing is, I always have been. I was bullied throughout my school years for being fat even though the majority of the time I wasn't (I was about half a foot taller than most of the people in my year) until I ended up comfort eating. Then I started restricting and fasting and everyone got worried. I saw a therapist and got threatened with a clinic even though I was no where near being classified as underweight.
Ever since I went into what I suppose people would term as recovery, I have eaten like a pig, alternating it with periods of fasting and restricting. The last time I went through a restricting phase was in 2003, so it gives you some idea of how big I got (fucking huge). I have a rubbish relationship with food - I will admit I love food, but I hate it in equal measures. This is a consistent in my life - eating, hating myself, eating, hating myself, restricting, feeling better, etc. I don't know at what point I decided I wanted to restrict again or why; it's not because I want to get skinny quicker than needs be, and sometimes I have no fucking idea why I'm doing it.
I just feel better. More alive, which is perverse because I feel tired half the time. It's hard to describe. Somehow, feeling hungry satisfies me. If I can go a whole day and into the evening without eating, I feel like I have suceeded - it's batshit to be honest, because I'm not suceeding in anything other than starving myself and depriving my body of what it needs. In the week where I was having odd days off, I just felt sluggish, uncomfortable, irritable. I didn't like the fact I went off track and I didn't like the physical and mental ramifications of doing so.
I really don't know what the point of this entry is - maybe clarification on my "position", or perhaps to alert people to my journal that I in no way glorify or support ED's. I really don't - but the way I see it is that everyone has a choice. There is nothing attractive about ED's. Even if I find myself in that trap again, the last thing I want to do is for someone to read my journal and think "She's an inspiration - I want to be like her" - I'd never be comfortable with that. I also wouldn't want to say about how wondering not eating is; I'm too old for the ana-scene.
I guess I just want somewhere that I can come to at the end of the day and say, fuck it, this is me. I make no concessions - I'm not a great person, I'm fairly fucked up and I need to sort my life out, but in some stupid way, adhering to a quasi-ED makes me feel better. I'm not going to apologise for that.
Anyway - enough of all that crap.
I have eaten today; Subway Chicken Breast Salad (150kcal), Strawberries (30kcal), Gerhkin (20kcal), LF Lemon Slice (70kcal), 8 Crabsticks (120kcal), more salad than I can shake a stick at (50kcal), dressing (10kcal), diet soda (30kcal), jelly (10kcal) = just under 500kcal. I need to write this down as I go along as working it out afterwards sucks, and I'm paranoid I've missed something.
Tomorrow I get "officially" weighed in at Weight Watchers. A peak on the scales in Boots shows me as 15st 10lbs - it will be nothing short of a miracle if that is the case, considering I was 16st 5lbs on Saturday (combination of lack of bowel movement and a few days of eating shit) and would mean I've lost over 50lbs since the start of March. I've also taken two Movicol today so hopefully there will be some movement tomorrow morning but not too much!
I'm going for a cig and then I'm going to catch up with diaries/forums.
Over and out.
Missyb -x-
To be honest, I'm not really sure. All I know is that I started to lose weight sensibly and then each day I thought about what I could cut down today. I technically go to Weight Watchers, and use the Points system, and initially I was using them all bar a few, and now I'm on 24 - I use about 10.
The idiotic thing is I know this kind of existence isn't sustainable. I don't want to die; I have no intention on committing suicide or anything remotely close. I feel that I am in a much better position mentally that I have been in a long time; although I am on medication and will be for the rest of my life, I am no longer cutting/self harming and I'm able to function on a normal (ish) level. I don't know whether this makes me poles apart from the "norm" in restricting, but as a general rule, I am not woefully unhappy - just absolutely disgusted with my body.
The thing is, I always have been. I was bullied throughout my school years for being fat even though the majority of the time I wasn't (I was about half a foot taller than most of the people in my year) until I ended up comfort eating. Then I started restricting and fasting and everyone got worried. I saw a therapist and got threatened with a clinic even though I was no where near being classified as underweight.
Ever since I went into what I suppose people would term as recovery, I have eaten like a pig, alternating it with periods of fasting and restricting. The last time I went through a restricting phase was in 2003, so it gives you some idea of how big I got (fucking huge). I have a rubbish relationship with food - I will admit I love food, but I hate it in equal measures. This is a consistent in my life - eating, hating myself, eating, hating myself, restricting, feeling better, etc. I don't know at what point I decided I wanted to restrict again or why; it's not because I want to get skinny quicker than needs be, and sometimes I have no fucking idea why I'm doing it.
I just feel better. More alive, which is perverse because I feel tired half the time. It's hard to describe. Somehow, feeling hungry satisfies me. If I can go a whole day and into the evening without eating, I feel like I have suceeded - it's batshit to be honest, because I'm not suceeding in anything other than starving myself and depriving my body of what it needs. In the week where I was having odd days off, I just felt sluggish, uncomfortable, irritable. I didn't like the fact I went off track and I didn't like the physical and mental ramifications of doing so.
I really don't know what the point of this entry is - maybe clarification on my "position", or perhaps to alert people to my journal that I in no way glorify or support ED's. I really don't - but the way I see it is that everyone has a choice. There is nothing attractive about ED's. Even if I find myself in that trap again, the last thing I want to do is for someone to read my journal and think "She's an inspiration - I want to be like her" - I'd never be comfortable with that. I also wouldn't want to say about how wondering not eating is; I'm too old for the ana-scene.
I guess I just want somewhere that I can come to at the end of the day and say, fuck it, this is me. I make no concessions - I'm not a great person, I'm fairly fucked up and I need to sort my life out, but in some stupid way, adhering to a quasi-ED makes me feel better. I'm not going to apologise for that.
Anyway - enough of all that crap.
I have eaten today; Subway Chicken Breast Salad (150kcal), Strawberries (30kcal), Gerhkin (20kcal), LF Lemon Slice (70kcal), 8 Crabsticks (120kcal), more salad than I can shake a stick at (50kcal), dressing (10kcal), diet soda (30kcal), jelly (10kcal) = just under 500kcal. I need to write this down as I go along as working it out afterwards sucks, and I'm paranoid I've missed something.
Tomorrow I get "officially" weighed in at Weight Watchers. A peak on the scales in Boots shows me as 15st 10lbs - it will be nothing short of a miracle if that is the case, considering I was 16st 5lbs on Saturday (combination of lack of bowel movement and a few days of eating shit) and would mean I've lost over 50lbs since the start of March. I've also taken two Movicol today so hopefully there will be some movement tomorrow morning but not too much!
I'm going for a cig and then I'm going to catch up with diaries/forums.
Over and out.
Missyb -x-