Part II: The Downside.

Since posting (and editing) Part I: The Start, I have done exactly what I said I was going to do. My support system has been awesome and I can’t thank them enough for all they do. From the random drop in’s, scheduled meetings, and to the 45 minute conversations of me constantly saying i’m fine. Anyway…

Please do not take what I am about to say in a bad way, I just have had a rough few days.

Since the end last of semester I have been going through monthly meetings and check-ins with two of my professors. The meetings are fine, but the check-ins can be a bit rattling because I do not know the numbers that are shown. I have researched ways to manipulate the numbers, like using stacked quarters or weights under my sweatshirt, eating or downing a bunch of water, so I wouldn’t place anymore worry on them. But I never attempted any of them.

I have been obsessed with numbers for a long time. Before my last check-in I thought I had gained weight (gotten bigger), when the test showed the opposite. It actually showed that I had lost weight, more muscle mass than fat. These past few days I have been having this mental battle that I cannot decipher and it has made me wonder why I ended up telling anyone what was going on with me in the first place. It’s like I didn’t ask for help directly I was just rambling about what was going on with me last semester so I could explain why I reacted the way I did, but at the same time a piece of myself wanted to get help… I have had some thoughts regretting saying anything in the first place.

This weekend I have faced a whole new battle with my mind. I am just feeling so gross after eating. Thursday I ate more than I typically eat (dry cereal, cliff bar, grapes, and a few bites of pasta for dinner). Friday was a little less, I had iced coffee and yogurt, I skipped lunch because by the time I realized I had, it was 4 O’clock so I had a PB&J wrap for dinner. Today (Saturday) I ate breakfast this morning at 7 O’clock and I felt good like I made it through a few days of eating and then now this ‘meal,’ I could do this. I can eat and be okay. It wasn’t until my family wanted to go to eat at Friday’s. I looked at the menu and I got my usual meal (a JD burger) when we got there because I knew anything else would be out of the ordinary for me since I am picky. Food came I cut my burger in half (half to eat there, the other half to take home) and ate. The whole way home I kept thinking I needed to get this food out of my system, that I just wanted to tear my body apart and pull out all the fat I have consumed and just have in general. Finally we arrived home and for the first time in a long time I sat on the bathroom floor with the shower running, trying to convince myself that I could make myself sick. That I could just throw up and I would feel better about what I had done. I even brought up old pictures of myself showing what I once looked like, what I should be able to look like again if I would allow it just this once. That was definitely not the first time I have had that particular thought. But no matter what I do or think I cannot make myself sick. I am not sure why things took a turn they way they did, but they did.

Either way before all the people worrying about me and me outing myself I could ignore the fact I have ‘problems’ but now people know I have problems and I have no idea what to do…