“I know you don’t mean to be doing this.”

After my last post about respecting my body and doing whatever it takes to look after it, I’m disappointed to be writing this post.

I’ve relapsed. I’m in the midst of the chaos and torture that is an eating disorder.

At first I thought it would be okay. I thought that once the stress settled I’d eat a bit more, and would be back on track without issue. I was wrong. Very, very wrong. I’ve spent the last couple of weeks thinking that I was in control of it, that it was okay, that it wasn’t not too much of a problem.

Now though? I’m a little worried and a bit scared. The ED behaviours feel out of control. I cry over food. I eat what feels safe, but then do all I can to compensate for it. I spend my days thinking about food and not eating it. I spend hours planning how to consume enough to be able to work and not embarrass myself by passing out. I spend even longer working out how to hide the ED from those around me.

I still think I can be somewhat rational and logical. My psychologist continues to tell me that I can not think clearly or logically and will not be able to until I increase my intake. It feels like a lot of my time is spent arguing about behaviours, risks of behaviours, self-worth – anything and everything! I’m trying not to argue with people. I know that deep down, they are right. I know other people are eating enough and can think more quickly, more clearly, more rationally than I can.

My GP has warned of the physiological consequences of restricting. I’ve been reminded that the ED behaviours will, if they continue, land me in the emergency department of my local hospital. I’m back to seeing her weekly and being blind weighed. Blind weighing hasn’t been necessary for years, and is incredibly anxiety provoking. I’m weighing myself daily. I know what I weigh. I know that number. But for someone else to weigh me at the “wrong” time of day, with different scales, with clothing and shoes on – it scares me more than words can describe.

There is something I’m grateful for though – my GP is very clued up on ED’s. She used to see clients at the outpatient ED clinic I went to in 2006-2008. Very little gets past my GP. She also has more compassion and patience than most GP’s would have with an ED patient. The most helpful thing she said to me yesterday –

“I know you don’t mean to be doing this.”

That helped to ease a little bit of the huge amount of guilt I feel for this relapse. I feel guilty for not having recovered yet, for having relapsed again, for not snapping myself out of this relapse, for not knowing how to snap myself out of this. So even if my GP isn’t aware of the significance of what she said, it means a lot. It’s, quite possibly, the most helpful thing someone could say to my at this point in time.

Where to from here? I still have this blind faith that things will work out. I always pull through, make it out the other side, get back on track. When and how? I do not know.

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