i came to a few new realizations last night, during group. the first was that, HA, i'm really ok! to be blatantly honest, i really thought "winter break" was going to be difficult. winter break, in itself, was a habit i needed to break and i didn't know if i was ready and prepared to do so. but i can officially say: i have moved on from what was. i have moved on from the whole of the past and am ready for whatever is ready to come my way. everything from here on in is a new, fresh start. this realization started very specific and focused on that one aspect, but slowly, the idea of that growth in me seemed to apply to so many more aspects at once. it's like cleaning out my closet of all those clothes that don't fit anymore; or, that even still fit, but don't suit my style anymore. i don't need the extra bulk if it's useless to my well-being. so, here's to forming new - and healthier - habits. have i mentioned i love new beginnings?
my second realization stems from every addicts favorite cop-out: i can stop when i want.
if i wanted, i could put the bottle down. this'll be my last butt. one last cut. just a few more pounds, then i'll stop purging/start eating normal. but it becomes physical. your body needs it. it needs the alcohol, the nicotine, the rush of physical self-inflicted pain... the lack of nourishment. it learns to compensate on it's own. and it hates recovery just as much as you do.
when i reached 92 lbs, it became very difficult for me to continue losing weight. my metabolism because sluggish so that whatever food i did consume would stay in me longer. my body didn't know when it would be fed again - it had to hold onto whatever it could get. refeeding is a very painful process. the body despises it every bit as much as the psyche does. the stomach shrinks and refeeding forces it to expand at an incredibly agonizing rate. the metabolism begins to speed up with nourishment and can often go into overdrive, which must be matched by meal plan increases, or it will burn calories much quicker than they are being consumed. weight gain becomes a slow and extensive process that typically takes months.
i no longer consider myself eating disordered though, by definition, my diagnosis is still AN. i am mentally and emotionally recovered, and i can say that with a confidence i never would have dreamed i could. however, i am physically still sick. for the first time, it feels like a real disease. eating "normal" amounts of food causes me to drastically drop weight. i have to keep reminding myself that my body isn't ready for that, yet. i need to push myself past feeling satiated to keep gaining. it feels like i'm going to be on 2 ensure+'s a day for the rest of my life, but i am constantly reassured that, once i hit maintenance, my metabolism will balance itself and i'll be able to decrease my intake for the day. and that, my average-weighted friends, will be a fantastic day.
the bottom line, for those of you who are slightly slower on the uptake, is that i've completely let go. but it's been officially proven to me that i cannot just "stop when i want to." my body's trained and it's trying to hold on. now, i have to pull it out with me. and it's a rather exhausting process, but i've never had more fight in me in my whole life. so fuck you, ana.
this is emily rubenstein, and this has been your Radical Acceptance Report at Noon.
stay classy, waltham.
my second realization stems from every addicts favorite cop-out: i can stop when i want.
if i wanted, i could put the bottle down. this'll be my last butt. one last cut. just a few more pounds, then i'll stop purging/start eating normal. but it becomes physical. your body needs it. it needs the alcohol, the nicotine, the rush of physical self-inflicted pain... the lack of nourishment. it learns to compensate on it's own. and it hates recovery just as much as you do.
when i reached 92 lbs, it became very difficult for me to continue losing weight. my metabolism because sluggish so that whatever food i did consume would stay in me longer. my body didn't know when it would be fed again - it had to hold onto whatever it could get. refeeding is a very painful process. the body despises it every bit as much as the psyche does. the stomach shrinks and refeeding forces it to expand at an incredibly agonizing rate. the metabolism begins to speed up with nourishment and can often go into overdrive, which must be matched by meal plan increases, or it will burn calories much quicker than they are being consumed. weight gain becomes a slow and extensive process that typically takes months.
i no longer consider myself eating disordered though, by definition, my diagnosis is still AN. i am mentally and emotionally recovered, and i can say that with a confidence i never would have dreamed i could. however, i am physically still sick. for the first time, it feels like a real disease. eating "normal" amounts of food causes me to drastically drop weight. i have to keep reminding myself that my body isn't ready for that, yet. i need to push myself past feeling satiated to keep gaining. it feels like i'm going to be on 2 ensure+'s a day for the rest of my life, but i am constantly reassured that, once i hit maintenance, my metabolism will balance itself and i'll be able to decrease my intake for the day. and that, my average-weighted friends, will be a fantastic day.
the bottom line, for those of you who are slightly slower on the uptake, is that i've completely let go. but it's been officially proven to me that i cannot just "stop when i want to." my body's trained and it's trying to hold on. now, i have to pull it out with me. and it's a rather exhausting process, but i've never had more fight in me in my whole life. so fuck you, ana.
this is emily rubenstein, and this has been your Radical Acceptance Report at Noon.
stay classy, waltham.
...if just for a little while.
i'm secretly on your side.
i'm secretly on your side.
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