So there's something wrong with me.
I'm emotionless.
Like I think I've developed this super power of not feeling anything.
And it's cool? No, no it's not. It's fucking weird.
I should have all these feeeeeeeeeelings but I got nothin' nada zilch. HA Didn't think I'd spell zilch right. Hanyway.
This morning I was in the bathroom (since I was ON TIME for treatment :) ) doing my makeup and saw one of the girls exercising in the wheelchair stall. I asked her to stop and come out to talk with me. She did.
I was proud for like a second then didn't think anything of it.
We went in to treatment promptly at 8 am and did process (where we talk about our nights and if we did behaviors ie not eating our snacks, over exercising, weighing etc) I had none to report - another yay. But I didn't really feel happy.
I began to talk about how I feel like nothing looks good now and that I'm confused in my body. I don't hate what I see but I don't like it either. I feel like my lack of self confidence is saying something else is wrong. I've learned that I use behaviors and do eating disorder things when shits going to hit the fan.
BUT WHAT IS WRONG?
After process we have breakfast. Which I plate myself (meaning I get to pick). This overwhelms me because before I chose according to how many grams of fat and calories and carbs. Now I have a kitchen full of things I can eat THAT part triggers the overeater side of me because then I want it all. However I had what I thought I wanted not what ED wanted. Yay again, but still no warm fucking fuzzies.
The only time I felt something today was during yoga. I felt at peace and intune with my body. Then my eyes flash open and my therapist is coming to bring me to my family therapy sesh. I knew she was coming but I wish I could have stayed longer.
Next thing I know I'm in a serenely decorated room and my dad has outstretched his hand for me to hold on one of the plush couches.
He never does that-it's weird seeing affection from him. I take it briefly but pull it away to grab a tissue-my mom has already started to make me cry 5 minutes in.
My mom brought things up that I knew she would, like how she wishes she could just fix me. How she feels respsonsible. How I was hard to deal with as a child. How she just can't listen to me and she just wants to have normal non Ed conversations.
Even typing this this pisses me off. I never got help as a kid and I clearly needed it. When your daughter throws fits because she only scores one goal in soccer, when she comes to you crying every night about the mean kids, when she's scared to eat bread...but I never really got that help.
In her defense I'm sure she did what she thought was right - in my defense this is my recovery and my blog so I'm just going to bitch.
Other things got brought up, like that they are proud of me for getting help. And for the first time I heard their compliments and not their attacks.
Session ended and off to lunch I went.
We processed again. I brought up my parents meeting and I didn't know how to summarize it. Still numb at this point.
I meet with my nutritionist next. She tells me she's upping my meal plan. I've been losing weight somehow. Which to ED is fucking crazy. I've been SITTING ALL DAY eating more than we ever would and working out only like 3xs a week. So now I have to eat more?
ED is now determined that I have to workout every other day, even if that means cancelling plans with friends. ED wants to cut out my morning and night snack (which I do at home). ED is trying to figure out the math as to how much more I am taking in and wondering what our weight is since we haven't been on a scale. It's not fair the diet techs get to see and control everything and we have to trust them.
But, alas, since ED and I are no longer getting along. I'm eating my snack as we speak-the increased calorie version, even saying that makes me mad. And I didn't over do it at the gym.
OMG I'm feeling! Ha just realized it. I'm mad.
Plus I'm listening to Datsik and Excision's remix of Alpha Centauri by Nosia, that may or may not be helping.
And you know what I have every fucking right to be mad. I'm constantly fighting this war in my head that controls my thoughts actions and way of life and I'm doing it for 25 days straight and don't know when I'm out. I'm going against everything I've ever known to be true and attacking my sole source of comfort. I'm in a room with girls that are just as crazy as me all day long. And when I'm home I'm too damn tired to do much.
I just had to address my parents about how I think they failed me as parents.
I told a very sick girl to stop her behaviors.
I'm eating more than I ever have in years.
And doing more work on myself than ever before.
Of course I'm mad.
And that's a o fucking k.
God bless.
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