Inspired by https://www.jennettemccurdy.com/

When I was 14, I was weighed at the doctor’s office and they had to adjust the scale’s base to 100 for the first time in my life. Internally, I freaked the fuck out and didn’t allow that to happen again until I was 26 and dealing with my anorexia for the first time in my life. So much credit goes to Kevin for calling me out on the depression aspect of it, which was what prompted me to fire up Alta Vista and search for eating disorders. Kevin was a huge part of my initial recovery, and helped me again when I relapsed at 35 as a side effect of being his caretaker.

I know it’s mostly about control for me. Some of it is about poor body image, especially as of late. Having to use a regular scale for weighing packages between 5 and 10lbs at work means I have to weigh myself holding the package and subtract it from me weighing myself without it. I’m trying not to think about the numbers that much, but I’m pre-disposed to that bullshit because being really tiny used to be my thing. Then it was a way to cope with not feeling that I had any autonomy at all as a teenager (for several reasons that need not be itemized lest I go off on a tangent).

One of the reasons I like shopping at thrift stores is because I could afford to replace clothes if they don’t fit right. Tight-fitting clothes do me no good because they start that little voice that used to fuel my anorexia. (And yeah, Kevin gets negative credit for later saying I was gaining too much weight in my early 30’s, which helped fuel the relapse. Told ya our relationship was complicated.)

I need to re-think how I eat and try to make it work for me rather than against me. Restricting foods is out. Gravitating towards better foods is a step in the right direction, but I have to be good about it. It’s not always easy to temper when dealing with mental illness, but I do my best.

It’s so mentally exhausting, having to deal with this bullshit when I’m pushing forty-fucking-nine.