Monday, May 24, 2010

[sometimes I feel like a Cathy comic- ack]


Saturday was mostly good. I woke up at noon and made breakfast to go with a french press of Stumptown. I spent a better part of the day putting together a jigsaw puzzle of a wolf and watching internet-tv. Around five I noticed how blustery it was outside and decided to go for a run through downtown. Everything was light and easy. I love how running without headphones in the rain feels like it could be something very important.

I jogged by bed bath & beyond and remembered I needed to pick a few small things up. As I wandered through cosmetics and every exciting little product I could ever want, I happened to walk right through the scale isle.

I threw my scale away 4 months ago. The scale I bought when I was 13. The only scale I fully trusted through the worst of my eating disorder. Since moving into my own place I'd weighed myself maybe a handful of times. I felt like ditching my scale was huge but finally, also easy. I had not weighed myself since. I have seen scales in others' bathrooms, random stores, I have been so good at knowing a trigger and walking away.

Yesterday out of curiosity or weakness, I pulled down the most expensive scale, breathed in, told myself it was evening and I was fully clothed, then looked down.
I don't know what number it could have been that would have made me feel okay. If my head is in that space, every combination of numbers is wrong.
I meekly bought cotton balls and a shower curtain while trying not to cry. How can everything I've learned be completely forgotten from one action? I walked outside and it was pouring but I couldn't go home because I was fat and fat was the end-all. The berating started the was it always had before, my head knew all the paths to wind through and the solutions to draw. Everything is worthless and doomed because I am fat. I should lose xx pounds and stop allowing myself to do anything until then. and then I should lose 10 more pounds for good measure. I started calculating meal plans and exercises for the following month.

Before I knew it was in the middle of a closed Pike Place Market, crying, and soaked from the rain.
No, no, no I thought. I got a grip. Three years of recovery would not be easily thrown out the window. I am not my old self. I get to enjoy life now. I am in an honest, genuine relationship where I share myself fully.

I got a hot chocolate and walked home in the thunderstorm. I reminded myself that I was just fine and would be the next time I felt a pull in a backwards direction.

3 comments:

Kerri said...

Congratulations for getting through that! I hope the rest of your weekend went well and you are keeping all that bad stuff in the past where it belongs.

Lisa said...

I hope you are okay. Recently at the gynecologist, the nurse told me how much I weigh - after I specifically asked her not to and got on backwards and everything. I didn't freak out until I was out of the office, but I had a panic attack later at the gym. It's been rough. I'm glad to read that you got your hot cocoa.

A little knowledge is a terrible thing, huh?

elizabeth said...

Thank you kerri!

Lisa~ that's so frustrating that they told you anyway! I'm definitely feeling more self conscious than I was before. It is crazy that just the knowledge changes everything, you are right. I hope you're doing well too <3