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brightrosefoxWow. I believe I devoured at least one dozen Maryland blue crabs. And a pound of shrimp. A friend of Adam's parents works at Costco, and all the employees were having a massive picnic with a few dozen bushels of crabs, and shrimp, and burgers, and hot dogs, and corn, and mac'n cheese. Adam and his dad taught me how to crack open the crabs to get all the meat. It was highly messy fun.
Now I can barely move. I actually have a belly.
I stepped on the scale, with my boots, and it actually read three digits. Then I took off the boots and lost two pounds, so the digits went back down to two. Oh well. At least I know I've gained weight officially -- my face never lies. It's filled out. I'm not too happy about that, however. I still have anorexia-induced nightmares about my face ballooning out of proportion. It was the main thing I got teased about as a kid -- chubby baby fat cheeks -- and the memory cuts so deep that it is very, very hard to get rid of. My biggest freak-outs would be too much weight gain in my face and my belly. I'm still weirdly fantatical about ab crunches and oblique twists. Gods help me if I ever get pregnant!
Adam suggested that my body has finally recovered from starvation mode and put on enough muscle to start burning calories and needing to replace calories -- hence my huge increase in appetite. However, given my genetics and my frame, I have a feeling I don't need to worry about "never being skinny". Still... once an eating disorder victim, always an eating disorder victim. I'm lucky that I pulled myself out of the hole before things got really bad. However, the mental conditioning is still there. I can look in the mirror naked and see a beautiful, thin but curvy body, but at the same time I can still wonder if I'm getting too big. It's not going to stop just because I feel healthy.
I should probably join an eating disorder community just to have people to talk with, but I'm not ready for that. I'm not quite ready to listen to other survivors talk about their battles. One day, soon. I'm actually really grateful for the friends I have now, of all sizes, who know what it's like at any point of the spectrum.
Ugh... I'm poking and patting my cheeks now, my still-hard stomach, feeling that unfamiliar flesh covering the hard-trained muscles. My cheekbones are still sharp, but now there is... skin. Fullness. I haven't felt that in almost five years. There is s glow about my skin. Health? I don't know. My eyes are so bright. I wish I could be ecstatic.
Now I can barely move. I actually have a belly.
I stepped on the scale, with my boots, and it actually read three digits. Then I took off the boots and lost two pounds, so the digits went back down to two. Oh well. At least I know I've gained weight officially -- my face never lies. It's filled out. I'm not too happy about that, however. I still have anorexia-induced nightmares about my face ballooning out of proportion. It was the main thing I got teased about as a kid -- chubby baby fat cheeks -- and the memory cuts so deep that it is very, very hard to get rid of. My biggest freak-outs would be too much weight gain in my face and my belly. I'm still weirdly fantatical about ab crunches and oblique twists. Gods help me if I ever get pregnant!
Adam suggested that my body has finally recovered from starvation mode and put on enough muscle to start burning calories and needing to replace calories -- hence my huge increase in appetite. However, given my genetics and my frame, I have a feeling I don't need to worry about "never being skinny". Still... once an eating disorder victim, always an eating disorder victim. I'm lucky that I pulled myself out of the hole before things got really bad. However, the mental conditioning is still there. I can look in the mirror naked and see a beautiful, thin but curvy body, but at the same time I can still wonder if I'm getting too big. It's not going to stop just because I feel healthy.
I should probably join an eating disorder community just to have people to talk with, but I'm not ready for that. I'm not quite ready to listen to other survivors talk about their battles. One day, soon. I'm actually really grateful for the friends I have now, of all sizes, who know what it's like at any point of the spectrum.
Ugh... I'm poking and patting my cheeks now, my still-hard stomach, feeling that unfamiliar flesh covering the hard-trained muscles. My cheekbones are still sharp, but now there is... skin. Fullness. I haven't felt that in almost five years. There is s glow about my skin. Health? I don't know. My eyes are so bright. I wish I could be ecstatic.
