Though my numbers on the scale have been slow to move recently, my clothing is telling a different tale. Has this ever happened to you, too?
Yesterday, I easily fit into the jeans I was last able to wear when I was diagnosed with Anorexia during my inpatient psychiatric hospitalizations. I was thrilled, but unsatisfied. I’m still wallowing a little bit in my shared funk with Joseph while he’s experiencing an oh-my-god-I’m-almost-30 crisis… though I’m trying to let go of stress/depression that does not belong to me and focus on my own happiness. I can’t help but feel like this week, despite the jeans success, has been a failure.
I haven’t been able to exercise or track all my meals properly because of this clinging sadness and worry, I haven’t had acupuncture at all because the sleep study is next week and I’m not allowed to have treatments in the seven days prior, I haven’t seen Robert (my therapist) in two weeks, and my relationship with Joseph feels so strange right now (still working on letting go of his behavior at the bachelor party in Montreal).
I tried to get dressed this morning, but my clothing has now moved from being too tight to looking baggy and ill-fitting. This, weirdly, makes me feel awful about myself. You’d think I would be happy to see myself looking small inside my clothes, but instead I just felt ugly and baggy and loose. I need smaller clothes, but the prospect of shopping even sounds daunting. It’s just more opportunity to hate myself in the mirror. What happened to the girl I was this weekend? The one that boys couldn’t stop flirting with? Why does she disappear so easily?
All this to say, I am not feeling my best. Thankfully, the sun is back out after three days of rain, my weekend will be fun and family-filled, and Joseph is slowly creeping back towards normal. Things will get better, I just hate these in-betweens.
