I started working out and eating cleaner a few months ago and huzzah I’ve toned up and lost some weight, (though I don’t know for sure how much since I don’t get on scales anymore because eating disorders are a bitch and frankly so are scales in my almost-never-humble opinion). It’s not a bad thing, trimming down, it’s been nice actually to do it in a healthier manner than before, my hair hasn’t fallen out at least so that’s a plus. And most days feeding myself and my family well is a strength not a weakness (two sides of the same coin and all that jazz).
Once I remarked that I’m both wonderful and terrible at losing weight. Truth is I do most things umm… passionately, surely those of you who know me at all are aware. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, if you’re loved (or liked or defended or fed or… anything) by me it’s likely enthusiastic af. Learning to temper myself has been a long hard process, that’s why I’m so proud of this here bowl of mush.
Thus far this go round of weight loss has been measured in how I feel (great!), how clothes fit (mostly not at all except the ones that were too small which now look damn good if I do say so (I do), and progress photos I take about once a month (meh). Yesterday the progress photos I took were not so great, likely due to five days of the flu and lots of weight lost but also some muscle mass.
Whatever, it’s fine I’m fine we’re fine. Except that a) my body is begging me to replace all of those carbs and protein and macros and nutrients and b) I’m a little bit terrified of gaining back any weight at all. So hooded Kermit and I have been arguing the last couple of days about my food intake because I really want to subtly starve myself skinny again. It’s easy enough for me to do, especially with the head-start of not eating anything but broth for days in a row. (Also I have learned that not-so-subtly starving myself results in people noticing and subsequently protesting me starving myself and that just will not do.) That’s why I’m sharing this- I’m not in the mood to nose dive down that hill again.
And so, yesterday J made me breakfast- bacon and eggs and toast, my first real meal since being sick. Then I had a little revelation that eating real food might help recovery so I made a pretty rockin lunch of steak and potatoes and roasted carrots and peas and finished more than half of it happily. And then (post bad photos) I had to literally force myself to eat (a pitiful) dinner. This morning I choked down some oatmeal with peanut butter, and then when lunch time came I wandered around the kitchen trying to come up with the lunch that would consist of the least amount of calories and carbs.
That’s where my brain goes when I’m in disordered eating mode: Carbs + calories = the worst possible things ever. You guys I have eaten some very sad meals in this mindset. But instead of warming up some broccoli and black beans and calling it a day (the “best” idea I could come up with at first), I made a big hearty bowl of quinoa, diced sweet potatoes, corn, black beans, white beans, tomatoes, broccoli, salsa, *gasp* CHEESE, and *double gasp* avocado. It was good but it wasn’t easy. But easy is not the goal right now.
This is my step today on the journey back (again) towards a healthy relationship with food. It’s like falling off a bike, this habit (wait that’s not how that metaphor goes…) Anyway, this is me getting back on the bike/wagon, whatever. This is me yanking these little monsters out from under my bed by their toes, and refusing to let my strengths become weaknesses again.
New year, same strategy: food is love.
Darkness into light.
Love and love.