Eating Disorder Recovery And Other Ramblings
So I'm supposedly recovering from my eating disorder. I eat between 1200-1400 calories a day now. I do about 45 minutes of cardio everyday. Supposedly thats recovering. Granted, its still not nearly enough calories and its too much cardio but considering that I went from eating whatever I was to what I am now, its considered recovering.
However, if I'm recovering, why the hell do I feel like I'm getting worse?
The thing about this thats so complicated is that it nothing has to do with food really. I mean, it does but it doesn't. I've had to start to deal with my underlying issues. Things like the fact that my Dad simply doesn't like me and I don't like him much either. Partially because he was never around for me, partially because he's an alcoholic. And mostly because I know he likes my sister more and thats hard for me. And no, I'm not imagining this. Its completely clear to everyone on the inside and outside that my sister is his favorite. Quite possibly my Mom's too.
But why wouldn't she be? She's perfect. She has no issues, unlike me and my brother. She gets perfect grades. She never has issues with my parents, she's easy to get along with, she's funny, she's helpful. She's cute. She does everything anyone could possibly do when they're 17. Who wouldn't pick her as the favorite?
I've had to deal with that. The fact that my little sister is perfect and that i feel like I'll never compete with that. I'm almost 23. I'm still in college. I live with my parents. I'm not like her. I never will be. And that, makes me feel like I'm never going to be good enough. I never feel good enough. In anything really.
The first time my Dad ever told me he was proud of me was when I lost weight. When I was doing Weight Watchers and losing weight. He told everyone how proud he was. I realized somewhere along the line without even realizing it that I was finally doing something my Dad was proud of. So I got really good at it. Losing weight. I was really good at it. Too good.
I guess part of me is scared that it will be seen as failure as I gain weight back.
I've never felt good enough really. There's been few times that I have actually. For anything or for anyone. Its never been enough. I have never been enough.
I've been thinking a lot about Cole since I got that email from him last week. When I was with him was one of the few times I ever felt good enough. I felt like I was good enough, I felt like I was enough just being me. I felt like I could be myself, only myself and that was enough. That was all I needed. So there was Cole.
And then there was the boy from LD. He also made me feel like I was enough. He made me feel like I was beautiful. That was enough. He made me feel special and like I was worth something.
Those were about the only times I ever felt like I was enough. That I was worth it. Just being me was okay.
Ironically, I was my heaviest probably at both of those.
And shouldn't I be able to feel that way without other people making me? One would think so but for some reason, I can't.
I never have.
I don't really know myself at all. I'm learning. I don't know what I like, what I don't like. I've spent most of my life trying to make other people happy. To get approval from others. I've spent most of my life being who I was for other people. I'm learning this now. I turn 23 next week and I've spent most of my life living for what everyone else thinks of me. I'm completely and totally paranoid about what other people think about me. I want to be liked. I want approval. Its not something I like to admit and never really do but I figured that out in counseling last week. I don't know myself. At all. And thats scary.
I turn 23 in less than a week. I feel like I've gotten nowhere.
I saw one of the girls from my old group therapy group yesterday. She's tiny. Its completely obvious that she's not doing better. In some weird way, that made me want to go back to my old ways. So much in fact, I skipped my afternoon snack. I somehow managed to convince myself to make up for it later in the day by eating an extra snack after dinner but it wasn't easy.
I've been having more times where I want to restrict than not recently and I'm not sure why.
Part of me wants so badly to break out of this. To be one of those people that eats whatever, whenever and doesn't spend all day thinking about it. That don't measure their cereal before they eat it. Or count out crackers. Or refuse to eat things like peanut butter, candy, or bagels because they're "Scary" and "bad". I want to eat at restaurants and not have mental breakdowns over it.
But part of me is holding on to this for some reason. Part of me makes me measure and count everything. Part of me makes me afraid of certain foods. Part of me makes it so I can only eat at "safe" restaurants. Part of me makes me work out everyday.
Its one things I'm good at. Its one thing I can control. And part of me isn't ready to give that up. As sad as that is.
Ok, I gotta go do some cardio before I go to campus to look for Cole...Er, I mean go to class.
More later....Maybe.
However, if I'm recovering, why the hell do I feel like I'm getting worse?
The thing about this thats so complicated is that it nothing has to do with food really. I mean, it does but it doesn't. I've had to start to deal with my underlying issues. Things like the fact that my Dad simply doesn't like me and I don't like him much either. Partially because he was never around for me, partially because he's an alcoholic. And mostly because I know he likes my sister more and thats hard for me. And no, I'm not imagining this. Its completely clear to everyone on the inside and outside that my sister is his favorite. Quite possibly my Mom's too.
But why wouldn't she be? She's perfect. She has no issues, unlike me and my brother. She gets perfect grades. She never has issues with my parents, she's easy to get along with, she's funny, she's helpful. She's cute. She does everything anyone could possibly do when they're 17. Who wouldn't pick her as the favorite?
I've had to deal with that. The fact that my little sister is perfect and that i feel like I'll never compete with that. I'm almost 23. I'm still in college. I live with my parents. I'm not like her. I never will be. And that, makes me feel like I'm never going to be good enough. I never feel good enough. In anything really.
The first time my Dad ever told me he was proud of me was when I lost weight. When I was doing Weight Watchers and losing weight. He told everyone how proud he was. I realized somewhere along the line without even realizing it that I was finally doing something my Dad was proud of. So I got really good at it. Losing weight. I was really good at it. Too good.
I guess part of me is scared that it will be seen as failure as I gain weight back.
I've never felt good enough really. There's been few times that I have actually. For anything or for anyone. Its never been enough. I have never been enough.
I've been thinking a lot about Cole since I got that email from him last week. When I was with him was one of the few times I ever felt good enough. I felt like I was good enough, I felt like I was enough just being me. I felt like I could be myself, only myself and that was enough. That was all I needed. So there was Cole.
And then there was the boy from LD. He also made me feel like I was enough. He made me feel like I was beautiful. That was enough. He made me feel special and like I was worth something.
Those were about the only times I ever felt like I was enough. That I was worth it. Just being me was okay.
Ironically, I was my heaviest probably at both of those.
And shouldn't I be able to feel that way without other people making me? One would think so but for some reason, I can't.
I never have.
I don't really know myself at all. I'm learning. I don't know what I like, what I don't like. I've spent most of my life trying to make other people happy. To get approval from others. I've spent most of my life being who I was for other people. I'm learning this now. I turn 23 next week and I've spent most of my life living for what everyone else thinks of me. I'm completely and totally paranoid about what other people think about me. I want to be liked. I want approval. Its not something I like to admit and never really do but I figured that out in counseling last week. I don't know myself. At all. And thats scary.
I turn 23 in less than a week. I feel like I've gotten nowhere.
I saw one of the girls from my old group therapy group yesterday. She's tiny. Its completely obvious that she's not doing better. In some weird way, that made me want to go back to my old ways. So much in fact, I skipped my afternoon snack. I somehow managed to convince myself to make up for it later in the day by eating an extra snack after dinner but it wasn't easy.
I've been having more times where I want to restrict than not recently and I'm not sure why.
Part of me wants so badly to break out of this. To be one of those people that eats whatever, whenever and doesn't spend all day thinking about it. That don't measure their cereal before they eat it. Or count out crackers. Or refuse to eat things like peanut butter, candy, or bagels because they're "Scary" and "bad". I want to eat at restaurants and not have mental breakdowns over it.
But part of me is holding on to this for some reason. Part of me makes me measure and count everything. Part of me makes me afraid of certain foods. Part of me makes it so I can only eat at "safe" restaurants. Part of me makes me work out everyday.
Its one things I'm good at. Its one thing I can control. And part of me isn't ready to give that up. As sad as that is.
Ok, I gotta go do some cardio before I go to campus to look for Cole...Er, I mean go to class.
More later....Maybe.