Confessions
Hidden under an lj-cut, because it might be triggering.
I'm making myself write this, because I have to acknowledge what I am doing, if I am ever to change it.
The news about Mary-Kate Olsen's treatment for anorexia has been all over the media. Even me, under my rock, can't escape from it. I SHOULD feel sorry for the poor girl, especially since I have some inkling of what she must be going through. I SHOULD feel glad that she's getting help (and hopefully, inspiring other teen-boppers to do the same). Instead...I hate admitting to this...what I feel is curiosity bordering on obsession: I want to find out her weight. I look at those pictures of her--especially that frail Oscar premiere picture--and I'm morbidly fascinated by how thin her arms and legs are, how the outline of her ribs are visible in the low-cut dress.
If I wasn't anorexic, I'd suspect that I'm bi-curious.
And I envy her. That's the emotion I feel. I understand...rationally, I understand too well that there's nothing to envy: that thinness in the anorexic patient almost always parallels mental anguish. The thinnest girls are the one most deeply entrench, most lost in their own despair. I can't explain the envy, except to say that it's wrong. And I can't seem to stop it...
I've been in recovery for over a year now...almost a year-and-a-half. And truly, when I stop to think about it, I haven't been committed. Ask me if I could choose between being recovered and losing (and maintaining) 15 lbs--and I'd take the weight loss. Recovery was something that I knew that I had to do...eventually...but I wanted my cake and to eat it too. I wanted to be "recovered" and thin--to lose 10 lbs FIRST, and then recovery (and somehow, not gain back and ounce in the process). I kept putting off recovery until "I lose x number of lbs."
I'm starting to hit that wall (or maybe I've been there for years, and I'm just realizing it) when I need to stop losing weight NOW...and starting putting recovery first NOW. soshesaid mentioned that she didn't really commit to recovery until she was willing to do what it takes--including gaining weight. I'm still terrified of the very idea of gaining weight...but I know that I at least have to allow for the possibility of that to happen before I can let myself recover.
I feel like I'm making a last-minute ditch effort: the Nazi's, burning the last few hundred prisoners in the death camps when they realize that the Allies' arrives is inevitable and immulent. On the one hand, I'm pushing myself even harder to lose weight...on the other hand, I'm mentally preparing to stop.
*sighs* It's a hard place to be in, psychologically. I see-saw between "wanting to recover" and "wanting to lose" several times a day. I know that I can't have one without putting down the the other (perhaps not necessarily giving up, but at least being willing to give up)--and I cannot, will not give up on recovery.
I'm making myself write this, because I have to acknowledge what I am doing, if I am ever to change it.
The news about Mary-Kate Olsen's treatment for anorexia has been all over the media. Even me, under my rock, can't escape from it. I SHOULD feel sorry for the poor girl, especially since I have some inkling of what she must be going through. I SHOULD feel glad that she's getting help (and hopefully, inspiring other teen-boppers to do the same). Instead...I hate admitting to this...what I feel is curiosity bordering on obsession: I want to find out her weight. I look at those pictures of her--especially that frail Oscar premiere picture--and I'm morbidly fascinated by how thin her arms and legs are, how the outline of her ribs are visible in the low-cut dress.
If I wasn't anorexic, I'd suspect that I'm bi-curious.
And I envy her. That's the emotion I feel. I understand...rationally, I understand too well that there's nothing to envy: that thinness in the anorexic patient almost always parallels mental anguish. The thinnest girls are the one most deeply entrench, most lost in their own despair. I can't explain the envy, except to say that it's wrong. And I can't seem to stop it...
I've been in recovery for over a year now...almost a year-and-a-half. And truly, when I stop to think about it, I haven't been committed. Ask me if I could choose between being recovered and losing (and maintaining) 15 lbs--and I'd take the weight loss. Recovery was something that I knew that I had to do...eventually...but I wanted my cake and to eat it too. I wanted to be "recovered" and thin--to lose 10 lbs FIRST, and then recovery (and somehow, not gain back and ounce in the process). I kept putting off recovery until "I lose x number of lbs."
I'm starting to hit that wall (or maybe I've been there for years, and I'm just realizing it) when I need to stop losing weight NOW...and starting putting recovery first NOW. soshesaid mentioned that she didn't really commit to recovery until she was willing to do what it takes--including gaining weight. I'm still terrified of the very idea of gaining weight...but I know that I at least have to allow for the possibility of that to happen before I can let myself recover.
I feel like I'm making a last-minute ditch effort: the Nazi's, burning the last few hundred prisoners in the death camps when they realize that the Allies' arrives is inevitable and immulent. On the one hand, I'm pushing myself even harder to lose weight...on the other hand, I'm mentally preparing to stop.
*sighs* It's a hard place to be in, psychologically. I see-saw between "wanting to recover" and "wanting to lose" several times a day. I know that I can't have one without putting down the the other (perhaps not necessarily giving up, but at least being willing to give up)--and I cannot, will not give up on recovery.