September 10, 2008 maydarling

So, I am going back down the slippery slope of ED. Boo that shit.
And it doesn’t help that one of my bff’s was once (and still is, to a certain degree) anorexic.

I’ve gone from having BED to Ana.

I just had the following conversation with him (my bff and gay husband):

Me: “My headache is better because I’ve eaten.
Him: “Oh, I used to get those when I was super skinny.”
Me: “It was because I hadn’t eaten in a while.”
Him: “Yeah, that’ll happen.”
Me: “I’m on this thing now. I feel like everything is so out of control: my work life is out of control, my personal life is in the shitter.”
Him: “That’s how I was.”
Me: “Yep. If I can’t control anything else, dammit, I’m going to control my body.”
Him: “I feel you on that one. I looked fabulous then, too.”
Me: “If you want to think that. You looked sickly, like you were deathly ill.”
Him: “If by deathly ill you mean fantastic, then yes.”
Me: “Your eyes were sunken in your head. That’s not fantastic.”
Him: “But I wore a 28 jean!”
Me: “And that is the end all, be all, isn’t it?”

Sigh. Why can I give such straight up commentary to others and not myself? As a fat girl who has always been fat. It’s true. I went looking at my baby – toddler pictures. The last time I was “thin” was when I was around 3-4. From there I plumped up and just grew proportionally out. Like nesting doll versions of myself.

My other bff, who lives in Texas, is whining about how fat she is and she wears a size 6-8. Just recently she bought a size 10 jean. A 10. I haven’t seen a size 10 since about the time I was 10. She is nowhere near fat. Not at all. Even at her fattest, she was an inbetweenie – size 14/16.

If she’s not in a size 2-4, then she’s fat and a “failure.”

It’s just my misfortune that I happen to work in the fashion industry. The fucking epicenter of all eating disorders. And you know what? Starvation is so eminently acceptable to the alternative – happy fatness.

I am surrounded by colluders who think it’s great that I’ve dropped 20lbs in a month. When did it get to be ok to starve yourself? When did society decide that that was a good fucking look? Why am I still so fucking SUSCEPTIBLE TO IT?!

In the meantime, I am grumpier than usual.
More headachy.
More tired.
My nails are brittle and they’re not growing like they used to. My nails used to be long and strong and pretty.
My hair has changed texture and isn’t growing like it used to, either.
My skin is also showing the signs – I’m breaking out horribly and I used to not break out like this.

It is all pissing me off.
So much so that I DID order the chocolate cake to go with my cobb salad (no blue cheese – baby steps people). But it may just sit there…Or maybe not. It looks fucking DELICIOUS.

I did have one small act of rebellion: I got the ranch dressing for my salad. And I USED BOTH LITTLE CUPS. Hoorah. And it was tasty.


Entry Filed under: body issues

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