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ED I am so tired of anorexia


I am stable in recovery (been stable for the past 7-ish years), so that's not a concern right now. I'm a healthy weight.

I am just so tired of being aware of/monitoring/judging my food intake and always wanting to minimize how much I eat. I find new fat on my body and it's like a part of me flips a switch and goes, "must destroy" but then the rest of me is both too tired to do that and also knows better. So I often end up in this space of "eat less...but in a non-drastic and f*cked up disordered way", which I'm really starting to get sick of, but then that means facing the possibility that I might stay where I am or gain weight which is apparently still very scary.

I don't want to be dealing with this 10 years from now, so I know I need to do something different (i.e., probably bring it up with T in more than just a passing "oh yeah, I've been having a harder time with food and body lately"), but I also feel like I know that at base I need to make peace with the possibility of gaining weight. Not that I have to gain weight, but that the sky wouldn't fall if I did. This entails learning to accept that my body might look/feel like it did just before my life came apart when I was 19, and there's just so much resistance there. I don't want to look like that person, I don't want to feel like that person - I know that I am that person, but weighing less than I did back then (even if it's not that big of a difference) has somehow become the big red line that keeps me from falling into a pool of shame and self-hatred. I have less hatred for the me that exists now, but I guess I need to work on having less hatred for that person, too. Idk.

Anyone else in a similar-ish boat by chance?
probably bring it up with T in more than just a passing "oh yeah, I've been having a harder time with food and body lately"),
I rarely to never brought up my disordered eating until the final year (5) of my therapy. It was such an important coping mechanism that I couldn’t touch it until a lot of other strategies were in place. T never made a big deal out of it but supported whenever I was ready to begin looking at it.
I don’t have any helpful advice beyond do talk to your therapist more fully about it. I just want to acknowledge how much of a b_tch food and weight noise is and how frustrating how much of our brain space and life they take up.
my anorexia is from childhood malnutrition, but the curse of self-starvation and it's collateral damages remains. you are not alone.
I don't want to be dealing with this 10 years from now, so I know I need to do something different (i.e., probably bring it up with T in more than just a passing "oh yeah, I've been having a harder time with food and body lately")
i still see food as a disgusting habit, both coming and going, and crave a life free of that expensive, messy habit, but? ? ? insert reality check here. . . the alternative ain't pretty, either. i solicit support from my entire therapy network. my peer supporters have proven far more valuable than the pros in this regard. the most noted flag in my own condition is mood changes. my moods fluctuate far more than my body mass when i forget to eat.
Well. Some stressors in my life combined with some trauma processing I think triggered an exacerbation of symptoms. I’m restricting. The types of foods I’m eating has become relatively narrow relatively quickly. I made protein cookies the other night but then couldn’t eat any of them. My appetite has decreased. Part of me likes that I’m eating less. Likes that I’m probably losing weight. know I need to turn this around.

I’ve told my T about this, but I haven’t given a whole lot of details. We are meeting 3 times this week in part to try to deal with this + the memories and shit that have been coming up.

In the past when T and I have gotten into some trauma shit and I’ve lost my appetite/started restricting that I should go back to mechanical eating (having a meal plan and sticking to it whether I feel hungry or not). My issue is (and I of course didn’t tell T this at the time), I don’t have a meal plan to go back to. The natural sensical thing would be to tell her this now and we can sort it together. I just feel like this is such a waste of time - I should be able to sort out a meal plan myself. Bleh.
I’m restricting.
One of the BEST tricks I have? Not to count anything. Because then? I start getting all competitive / relative to myself. Like 3 olives? Seems extreme. 1 olive? Seems okay. So? I don’t count. I had? Olives. 1 or 50. Fawking olives.

If you dig deep into your own personal restrictive algorithm? You can probably find similar “tells”.

Nix those, and whilst you’ll still be restricting? It won’t be as “badly”.

Baby steps.
I should be able to sort out a meal plan myself
It’s okay to get help with this. I never knew how to do a meal plan until the dietician showed me and it still took me a year to be able to do it consistently. Sound like you already have the tools but some support and encouragement is in order. You’re doing the hard work now and part of that is practicing the reaching out—big girl stuff now! 😘
BEST tricks I have? Not to count anything
I second this! 🙋‍♀️
Maybe you are focusing on the more weight of the person that you were as the reason or identifying marker for trauma. It's possibly almost like saying, "I was raped for wearing a yellow dress, so I am not going to wear a yellow dress anymore." But, in reality, it was the rapist's actions, not the dress.

I struggle with long car rides at night. But my T helped me to understand that it isn't riding in a car at night that made this activity dangerous, it was my rapist and groomer in the car with me that made that activity dangerous.

I'm also thinking of whether you were being abused which caused weight gain. Are you saying you are not being abused if you remain under a certain number on the scale? I feel like restricting your calories to remain at a certain weight is carrying on the abuse for yourself.

I'm not sure if this helps at all. Of course, I am not a professional.

My personal story, skip if you like: my groomer ingrained in me that being as skinny as possible was the only way to be attractive and valued. I'm not sure if that had anything to do with him not being able to gain weight and always being underweight throughout his life. He hated when I caused myself to throw up, but only made me feel bad about the action, of course he was not in the business of actually seeing me healthy. If that were the case, he would have left me alone a long time ago.

After getting away from him, I continued restricting my food intake. I was told by many guys that they liked thin, little, tiny women. Ok, but after being in a relationship for almost three years, I gained 15 pounds. I am uncomfortable with it. My boyfriend doesn't seem to even notice.

I like to eat tasty foods, healthy for the most part, indulge in the unhealthy occasionally. If the voice begins to berate me for eating something, I YELL in my head (or out loud depending on the environment) at the critical voice to shut up and that I deserve to be happy. Sometimes you have to get mad at it.

Also what I tell myself is that, I am around 30-ish years old. I am not meant to look like a 12 year old. If any guy requires me to look like a 12 year old in order to date him needs to seriously get help.
I will not tell you how many years I've danced with the Dragon, but I began at the age of 18 and I am now a mother of four and a grandmother of eleven. My dancing shoes should have worn out long ago. I always view the dance very much like alcoholism. I can live with "sobriety" for a while, even for several years, but then something triggers the Dragon and we begin the dance again. A cure? No. A temporary remission? Sure.

The Dragon tapped me on the shoulder, once again, in early January and my weight has been plunging ever since. Just as I have learned to control my chronic pain, I can easily live without food. I was raised by the very Best narcisist, abuser, and monster to live my life by two very important words: Perfection and Control.

It is honestly embarrassing for someone my age to do this, and to do it so well. It is my most well-kept secret.