ED’s sneaky library trip

I am currently in the library working on my PhD (well, currently I’m in the library not working on my PhD, but you know what I mean!). I went for a run before I came and brought lunch/dinner with me for afterwards which I ate at 4.30pm. It’s now 8.30 and I’m still in the library and I’m hungry. I know why: (1) I’m human and my human body likes regular food even if my ED brain doesn’t and (2) lunch/dinner is not a thing, it’s lunch or dinner it can’t be both, and especially not with a run thrown in.

I can’t concentrate on my work because I’m too busy being hungry and thinking about how I should eat but I don’t know what to eat and I hadn’t really planned on eating again today as I ate a ‘treat’ snack this morning so trying to balance it out. I’m watching a guy near me eating a family sized bag of crisps in awe and somewhat intense jealousy because he’s quite skinny. I’m going back and forth on going to the shops to get something but my friend is cooking dinner tomorrow night so I’m already worried about those calories and I’m too tired to contemplate additional exercise to burn them off.

These are such disordered thoughts. I’m writing them out slightly horrified by myself. I’ve been doing so well but seems like ED has sneakily been burrowing away and the thoughts are starting to turn into actions. I know where this leads and it’s not pretty so it has to stop. I need to go to the shop and buy some food and eat it. And then get on with my work. I’ve just lost a good hour to this food debate, an hour that I could have been tucked up in bed with a cuppa a book, not sitting in a library ogling others’ food and not doing my stupid work.

Damn sneaky ED and damn exhausting recovery where one has to be always on guard.

The ridiculousness of Eating Disorders

Work have arranged our Christmas party which is to be a casual get together in one of the girl’s houses where everyone brings a dish to share.

Last week I spent between 10 minutes to an hour each day worrying about what I would eat at this event which is 7 weeks away.

I am a (semi) intelligent rational human being, and I know one meal won’t make a difference, but I can’t seem to switch of that bit of my brain that is obsessing over this.

The easiest thing would be not to go, but I have bailed on last two social events and I moved to a new team this year and it would be nice to see colleagues outside of the centre.

So I will go, and I will just try to laugh at the ridiculousness of spending the next 7 weeks worrying about the calorie content of random dishes and people’s perceptions of how I eat.

Oh the joys of this illness….

Feeling betrayed by recovery

Things are pretty cr*p at the moment. My PhD is hard and horrible and my deadline is stretching further away from me as the more I do the more I realise I have to do, and all within the context of me not really knowing what the point of the project is or what exactly it is I’m trying to achieve (aside from getting some semblance of a thesis together so I can get it the hell out of my life). I’m gaining weight and it won’t seem to stop and my body image is rubbish. I’m trying to get back to running but I’m slow and it feels awful and therefore I’m not getting the positive experiences from it as I used to. I don’t have time to see my friends so I feel guilty about that all the time, but really I’m quite happy not having to be around other people and have to pretend to function. I’m tearful a fair chunk of the day and it’s lots of effort to not start crying at inappropriate times.

I feel like I’ve been betrayed by recovery. I thought sorting out the food stuff and gaining the weight would mean I would be better able to manage life and enjoy it. I thought it would help with my mood and stress. I trusted my counsellor that gaining weight and changing behaviours was necessary and a positive step. And yet, here I am just obsessed about food in a different way, still hating my body and feeling more out of control than ever.

I know this is probably a phase and it will pass, but it still sucks while I’m in it. I bought into recovery as being tough but worth it, and it’s really hard when you get to a stage where actually it doesn’t feel worth it. I honestly think things were better when I has the bubble of my eating disorder to protect me, at least I felt I was managing some aspect of my life. I can’t seem to make my counsellor understand how I feel about this, she keeps dismissing it and it is so frustrating, so I have no one to be honest with about this.

Sorry for the negative rant, I just needed to let it out.