Sometimes I feel like I need to stop writing posts about eating disorders, but it's my jam.
Sorry for trying to be funny, but I know eating disorders are a hard topic to read about all the time. It's all I write about anymore but I think it's because it was such a big part of my life. It was one of the hardest things I've experiences. It was real, for me, for three years. I couldn't talk about it for a long time, especially last year when I was recovering, but I can now. I find myself wanting and needing to write about it. So here I am, writing about it for another time.
I don't know why I had to justify myself, but I did, so happy Tuesday.
I guess I just wanted to write a post about balance. I have for awhile, ever since I saw a blogpost from a girl who had an eating disorder but didn't want to participate in eating disorder awareness week because of some of the treatment particulars most commonly used for eating disorders - such as: sticking to an exact meal plan with three snacks and 5 servings of vegetables and X calories every day and not being able to be vegan during treatment because "it limits your diet" and other stuff like that.
I mean, I feel that. That makes sense to me. But to not participate in building awareness for the millions of men and women, boys and girls, people, who have eating disorders because of that makes me sad. It makes me most sad because I don't want people to believe that they have to recover a certain way. That they must do and eat the way above, only, to be "recovered."
The reality is that recovery is your own. It can be like what I described above and for some people it must be. For some, there has to be a strict plan to follow in order that their bodies heal from their disease. Until they can intuitively eat, monitor their body and weight on their own, and trust themselves to feed themselves they will follow that plan.
Anyway, I'm done talking about that. I just wanted to make how I felt about that very clear, especially for those considering recovery -- it's yours. Your body, your food, your plan. Work it out with people you trust, and learn how to feed yourself and live.
I wanted to give a bit of an example of how my eating has worked the past year, since I officially reached my pre-eating disorder weight exactly a year ago. It's been a whole year?????? I can't believe it.
But I can feel it in my body. Which is never really and truly hungry anymore. Which is strong and alive and well maintained. It's healed. I don't gain weight anymore. In fact, I've lost a lot of it. Not by restricting or exercising. By just living and trusting my body.
I'll use numbers to show this, because I think it helps. Last April I reached about 135, which was my weight before anorexia. That January I had weighed 98 pounds. So that's nearly 40 pounds in 4 months. Then, though, I kept gaining and gaining until I was probably 150 by July.
Let me be clear, it was very hard. But I had to eat. I was eating 2000 calories a day. I felt uncomfortable all the time, but that was what my body needed. It had been starved for three years. It had been YEARS since I'd eaten butter or pizza or popcorn or ice cream or bread. It hadn't had real sugar in forever, or protein. I ate granola bars and oatmeal for 3 years. How was it supposed to know what the heck to do with real food?
But, by September, I realized I wasn't hungry ALL THE TIME anymore. I began to feel full at meals, instead of having no idea when I was empty or full. I began to crave specific things - vegetables, bananas, salty pretzels. Suddenly, I knew what my body wanted to eat and how much it needed. I listened to it, ate when I was hungry and stopped when I was full, and by December I was back to 135 pounds. I rest there now, comfortably, eating what I want and need to without fear of gaining 5 pounds or starving myself.
I'm chilling. And it's so easy now. I really am able to like myself now. Whereas, in April and August and December and June I hated myself. I was repulsed. I cried all the time. I felt terrible.
I got used to this new body. I'm fine with it. Sometimes I feel uncomfortable, but most of the time I am content. I worry about stupid things - like showing my arms or thighs, or the roll I have on my belly - but I'm challenging myself to ignore them.
Because I'm tired of counting and measuring and hating this thing I'm in. I want to eat popsicles and go to nature centers and speak French and kiss my boyfriend and beat people at basketball.
I am silly and funny and high maintenance and love languages and eat donuts and a fan of cuddling. I am a sister, a friend, a Gab-Gab, a student, and a fiancé.
I love being able to eat two bananas and peanut butter and a bowl of Captain Crunch all in the same day. What I'm saying is that you have to learn. It's a process. It's not perfection in the slightest. Today I had two bagels for breakfast, two bowls of Captain Crunch for lunch, 3 little powdered donuts, and I'll have granola and some clementines for dinner. And I'll try to get Daniel to buy me a strawberry popsicle later.
Let yourself feel this out. But you must eat. You can't just eat 1200 calories or 1000 - "just what I need to survive" - and call that healing or living or being free. It's not. You can't restrict your diet and life and body to a certain size or food items or whatever. Eat what you need. Be aware of your needs - supplement. If you don't wanna eat meat, by all means, don't! But eat nuts and tofu and get your protein and iron, because you need it.
Don't be afraid of this. I know you are. I was. Still am, many a time.
It's going to be okay. You are. It gets better. I promise. Give yourself 6 months. Live with yourself. Feed your body. Nourish it. See what happens.
I bet, maybe, just maybe, you'll find you have so much more life than you've ever had before.
And if there's extra weight, I know you don't believe it, but, you aren't going to mind that much anymore - not with what you'll find in front of you: the beauty & freedom of a life not starving but full.
