I started my weekend with a doctor’s appointment, not because I wanted to go but because my mom insisted I be seen to follow-up on my most recent blood work, and to ensure it is safe for me to travel 10 hours on a plane and spend 7 days at sea in approximately a month.
I have been really lucky thus far not to have any major health issues (outside of the obvious) but every day spent underweight, and as I get a little older, my body doesn’t take the abuse as well. Anytime I am anticipating a trip, especially one outside the country, my mom gets a little panicky that something could happen and she might not be able to be there.
In all honesty, she lives three hours away and I could get in a car accident tomorrow (knock on wood!) so essentially she couldn’t save me in that situation either, but there is an increased risk when it comes to travel and she is completely uncomfortable with the idea.
Apparently so is Ryan, because on Saturday morning I input all our information, finalized excursion plans and made the last payment to pull everything together. As I chit-chatted away about how awesome this was going to be he showed very minimal enthusiasm.
I am thrilled and counting down the days until we leave, and he is petrified.
He had threatened to cancel our vacation a few months ago, when my relapse began and my weight started to drop. Only if I could put on a few pounds to get out of the “danger zone” would he be ok with us going.
The poor man has been on numerous vacations in the past few years where I have had freak outs about food and the lack of proper gym equipment in Europe (yup that is what everyone should worry about while in Spain) we have had to modify plans because of meal situations, and people have made really hurtful comments as I walked by in summertime attire.
Last year I even won a raffle for a free week of boot camp at the fitness center. “Burn 600 calories an hour!” the trainer boasted as he called out the coveted prize…and then my name was read and my husband just about had a heart attack.
Of all the things I could have won…free massage…pedicure….makeover…even yoga…I was awarded a high intensity exercise class.
As I walked up to claim my certificate a lady close by loudly stated, “Sure give it to the anorexic girl who doesn’t need it, while the rest of us eat at the buffet.” People around us laughed and Ryan nearly cried.
I returned the pass for Boot Camp and asked them to give it to someone else, and when the obnoxious lady realized how insensitive her statement was, and that the man standing next to her was my other half, she profusely apologized saying she once knew someone with this disorder and how hard it was for that person to overcome.
Too little too late woman…please just walk away.
Every time I saw her that week she smiled and sheepishly waved. I kind of wanted to throw her overboard.
In my mind I don’t consider the worry others might feel by my appearance or actions. I don’t see myself the way I am perceived, and when I need my “fix,” I certainly do not think about the emotions of others because I am too consumed by my needs to feel comfortable, that no one else really matters.
I hate to admit those things, but they are true.
I really thought I could fly under the radar, giving some effort into gaining weight and Ryan would be just as happy to be spending 10 days away with me, as I am with him.
Unfortunately not, because there is no such thing as sort-of recovery.
I am starting to believe black and white thinking is only good when applied to getting healthy.
You are either sick, or engaging in full-blown recovery, because anything in between is ED wearing a mask, ready to come out at any moment; like a tease…you have some free moments where you feel great, and the next you want to crawl out of your skin for making waffles for breakfast.
My body hurts, my mind hurts and my heart hurts, because today I feel kind of hopeless. Or maybe helpless is a better word because some days I believe there is a problem that needs to be fixed and damnit I will do anything I can to change!
…as long as it is by my rules…
And other days I am totally fine! The picture of being well There is nothing wrong with the way I am. I have changed already and life right now is just what it is supposed to be.
…is that a delusion or what?!…
I really do hate that I am so selfish, but I really don’t even know where to begin.
I think I do and then I fail.
Time, after time, after time….
Please, can I borrow someone else’s eyes….or as a friend put it even better…someone else’s brain?
I am in desperate need of a little reality check.