49 days. It seems like such a long time when I count the actual days, but realistically it’s only about a month and half. Still, 49 days without a binge, without concealing food and stuffing it down my throat in private, is a big thing. And I’m proud of myself.
Every day I battle with myself. I must force myself to remember that I am trying to recover from an eating disorder. I am trying not to binge. I am trying not to eat when I am not hungry. I am trying not to hide my food. I am trying not to numb myself with food. This is all hard to remember when I’m eating an ice cream cone or a piece of chocolate. I have to constantly remind myself I am not on a diet.
I frequently catch myself saying that I shouldn’t be eating certain foods, that the ice cream cone I ate just set me back and that I should just give up. Yesterday, I even thought about hiding the fact that I ate two Hershey kisses. I’m struggling with the fine line between not restricting myself and making healthier choices for my body. I fear I will take advantage of eating whatever I want that I don’t choose lean meats, whole grains, or fresh fruits and vegetables. If I can have that piece of chocolate or ice cream cone, why would I choose strawberries or broccoli?
I haven’t weighed myself lately so I don’t actually know how much I weigh or if I have gained weight, lost weight, or remained the same over the past 49 days. What I do know is that my clothes don’t fit. Everything without an elastic band is tight on me. So, I know I’m not losing enough to at least be noticeable. That frightens me and it tempts me to start “watching” again, to start restricting again, to start counting again. I feel like I’m in a tug of war with myself running from one side of the rope to the other tugging and pulling until most of the rope is on one side before I run back over to the other side where I tug and pull again. Against myself. I’m tired from running back and forth and tugging against the imaginary force that feels almost impossible to move. And then I remind myself, the weight is the symptom. Address the root of the issue and the symptom will subside. I know this. I know that going on a fad diet right now will not solve my problem; it will only exacerbate it, mask it, prolong it.
My therapist reminded me yesterday that I am still very early into my recovery. It’s only been 49 days. She explained how it’s perfectly normal to eat foods I wouldn’t normally eat or foods that I have been restricting for years. There’s a sense of excitement and freedom that comes with not restricting myself. But, as with anything else, that newness will fade once it sinks in that I can have that piece of cake whenever I want. I’ll start to get sick of that chocolate and my body will start to crave what it needs. She reminded me to walk in trust. I trust this to be true. I trust this process.
So while I will continue to eat when I’m hungry and continue to choose the foods I want and crave, I will also try to be mindful of what foods make me feel good and what foods nourish my body in the way it needs. I will not punish myself or shame myself for the choices I make that are not typically considered “healthy.” Today, I choose to accept myself and where I am on my journey, knowing that this is only the beginning and the changes I am making are long-term. I’m not looking for a quick fix. I’m not looking for a bandaid. I don’t want a body that looks good in a swimsuit. I want a body that moves with ease and without pain. I don’t want a summer beach body. I want an everyday body that will support me, sustain me, and keep me alive–every day, every season, in a swimsuit or not, on the beach or not.
Overweight, Anxious, and Done 