You look well?
What the fuck does that mean? Can you see inside my head?
Society today is so hung up on personal appearance. Photos are filtered, we can choose what to show to the rest of the world.
Social media shows what we want people to see, our perfect worlds, perfect friends, perfect lives.
Nobody really knows what is going on in others lives, its all a big fantasy.
I live in a bubble, a bubble that my nurse once said she would pop. My bubble keeps me safe, protects me from others and my own thoughts.
My illness is not all about weight. If I was to gain 3 stone tomorrow would I be cured. Probably not.
Its not about wanting to stay ill, it's about knowing my limitations and how hard to push myself.
Hospital was a safe environment, one where I could weight restore and not have to deal with the aftermath of feelings on my own. In the community is not so easy.
My therapist is working on compassion. Supporting me through trauma and all the feelings that sit alongside it. Its tough. We don't talk about food, how I'm managing my meal plan or how to move forward with weight gain. I struggle with this but I am keeping myself safe. My blood work is on the normal scale, I know what foods to eat to make sure I am getting the right nutrients. My dietitian is happy.
Food restriction keeps me in control of my emotions, eating sends me into turmoil.
I often overeat and seek permission from my Husband that its OK to do so and I'm not greedy. He tells me if I'm hungry to eat, this is normal behaviour and I need it. Rice Krispies are currently my go to food.
I have been open about my urges to purge or exercise and have admitted to times when the urges have been so strong I have lost control.
I am pulled in all directions and the slightest thing can send me into over thinking and fight or flight mode.
I need to talk about this as soon as it happens but does that make me needy? Do I need to validate every single thought.
I hate my brain at the moment but this is all part of my recovery. I hate how I'm feeling, that I'm not in control of my emotions, that I can break down at the slightest thing and want to run away from it all.
I have the crisis team number and I have come close at times to calling them.....I haven't needed to as I have managed to ride it through. Not easy in a public place.
Thank you to those who told me last night that they liked my top.
My illness is not all about weight.....It is what it is.