Eating Disorders Die Hard
I started this blog for me. A place to share my innermost issues and struggles with bone density and my eating disorder. So, if you're reading this, keep in mind that these are my thoughts, my feelings, me. Please don't judge. I write here for me. And if you share in a similar struggle, or empathize, then read on. Because today, it's getting real.
You want to know why I have convinced myself I don't have an eating disorder (well most of the time)? Because I look in the mirror and LOVE MYSELF. No, really. I've worked damn hard and can honestly say that at 42.5 years of age, I like my body better now than I have ever. I've birthed a child even and still like my body better now than before I conceived.
Isn't that what every woman wants? To like, no....LOVE themselves?!?!
And I don't just mean my physique. I think I've come a long way deep down. I think I'm a good friend, and loving mother, and a supportive wife. I love to still learn new things. I've gotten way better at laughing at myself and even making others laugh. I contribute to the greater good. I don't think I suck. Now, that is NOT something I could have said 20 years ago!
So, when I was in the gynecologist's office for my annual this week, I was really bummed about how I felt when I left. And it's not because she was mean or said something to hurt my feelings, she just stated the truth. I came in there showing her my DUTCH results (see previous post) as well as my DXA scan. All she said was, "You have functional hypothalamic amenorrhea." Which, if you don't know what that is, means I've been underweight so long my brain has told my body to stop ovulating. She said that if I just got my weight up to a BMI of 19 (about 3 more pounds), I would likely be at the sweet spot. Somehow a BMI of 19 just is a magical hormonal number.
DUH! And instead of just saying "fuck it" and putting on the goddamn weight, what do I do? Run more labs, take more supplements, blah blah blah. What the actual fuck is wrong with me?!?!
A GODDAMN EATING DISORDER!!! That's what! I love my body because my ass is tight, my abs are ripped, and I look and feel good in spandex. But would 3 fucking pounds really change all that? NO!
A month ago I was on vacation for two weeks. It was non-stop entertaining, fun-in-the-sun, drink all day enjoyment. No scale. No workouts. I gained those 3 pounds and still felt great. But, I didn't know. I wasn't weighing in, but when I looked in the mirror I thought, "Yeah, that works." When I got home and saw that I'd put on the weight I'd been stressing about for so long, I freaked. I suddenly saw it in the mirror. I felt thick, and my clothes were tight. Bullshit though!! This is what an eating disorder does to you. This is called "body dysmorphia." It's super fucked up, and if my daughter or my friend told me they felt this way about themselves, I'd tell them they were nuts!! Not one freaking person could see that weight except me. Not one!! I set off to lose it immediately. WTF? Now, I'm back to my "happy" weight and still mad at myself for not being able to let go.
I'm better than this. I'm smarter than this.
I. CAN. FIX. THIS.