bleedingangel84 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bleedingangel84) wrote2014-03-23 05:16 am
bleedingangel84) wrote2014-03-23 05:16 am
Entry tags:
Regression or Progress? *ED TRIGGER WARNING* (numbers)
I had my monthly food shop today. I'm actually (sort of) proud of myself. I bought lots of soup and some microwave dinners, because they are things that aren't stressful for me to eat usually. I also bought a couple of bags of dark chocolate and one bag of the Lancaster Caramel candy in Raspberry Vanilla Cream. My aunt looked at me like I was crazy for buying so many sweets. The thing is, I have to stockpile things because sometimes it's two months or more between shopping trips.
I only let myself eat one piece of candy per day. In most cases, that's not even a serving. Nowhere close. I monitor the amount of calories I eat. I don't give myself a target, but I try my best to keep it between 1200 and 1800. I eat plenty of fruits and veg. I'd say at least 75 % of the grains I eat are whole grains. I've done my best to achieve a balance in my diet. I know that in my personal experience, allowing myself a small amount of something sweet keeps me from craving things and binging on them when I can't stand the cravings anymore. If I'm not denying my body anything, I don't go out of control on those occasions when sweets are around.
I mostly drink water, almond milk, or tea with a little sweetener in it. I hardly ever drink sodas unless it's a special occasion and that's all that's available.I will have a very occasional cup of coffee with creamer and sweetener, but that's it for what I drink. I just figure it's not worth wasting the calories unless I treat myself to a milkshake, which hardly ever happens anyway.
I also exercise. Lately, I've been walking in place again. My family says/thinks this is a good thing. In some ways it is, and in some ways it's not. I feel better when I exercise, because then I feel like I've earned the right to eat and not feel so guilty about it. My family doesn't seem to worry as long as I do eat what they consider a reasonable amount of calories every day. My aunt even encouraged me to increase the miles I walk every day. She didn't specifically mention my weight when she said that, but she said something about how I had gotten around really well when I was walking five miles a day, and talked about how thick my legs are.
I feel my disordered thoughts creeping back up on me again, and my relatives seem to be encouraging this. I was miserable when I walked five miles a day. Any time I ate anything, I felt guilty, even in spite of the exercise I was doing. I was thinner, yes, but I stayed cold all the time. My hair was falling out, and I became a complete bitch when my grandmother would try to make me eat. I was constantly thinking about food or how to avoid food, and I felt relieved when I was allowed to miss meals.
I do not want to go back to that phase of my existence, because it was a living Hell. I hated myself and what the eating disorder turned me into. I am not a mean person. I am not nasty, I am not bad or evil, but during my worst times, I spewed pure venom on those closest to me, because all I wanted was to be left alone to make myself a skeleton. And yet, when I would tell my family I had an eating disorder, they'd say I was fine, I just had issues with food. I felt so alone with all this.
I felt and still feel alone with a lot of things, which is a major reason I've had issues with food and self-harm. Everything comes back to a need to take control over something. It's not about, weight, vanity or attention-seeking. Food and hurting or not hurting my body were things I had control over that no one else had a say in, and that's rare for me. I feel as though I can never meet my family's expectations because they seem so contradictory at times.
On the one hand, I have limitations because of my Cerebral Palsy. and on the other, I'm a human being with an intellect, thoughts, and feelings. I think certain of my relatives have issues reconciling those two things. But, this is my life and my body. I may hate it sometimes, but it's the only one I have. I want to live in it for as long as the higher powers see fit to allow me to do so. That said, I have better things to do than allow the negative thoughts to take control.. I will treat my body with respect, continue to nourish it, and fuck the numbers Fuck people who tell me I need to lose weight. Weight doesn't matter.
Happiness matters. Compassion matters. As long as I behave in a way I can be proud of, screw what everyone else thinks. I won't let them push me back down again. It's happened often enough as it is.
I only let myself eat one piece of candy per day. In most cases, that's not even a serving. Nowhere close. I monitor the amount of calories I eat. I don't give myself a target, but I try my best to keep it between 1200 and 1800. I eat plenty of fruits and veg. I'd say at least 75 % of the grains I eat are whole grains. I've done my best to achieve a balance in my diet. I know that in my personal experience, allowing myself a small amount of something sweet keeps me from craving things and binging on them when I can't stand the cravings anymore. If I'm not denying my body anything, I don't go out of control on those occasions when sweets are around.
I mostly drink water, almond milk, or tea with a little sweetener in it. I hardly ever drink sodas unless it's a special occasion and that's all that's available.I will have a very occasional cup of coffee with creamer and sweetener, but that's it for what I drink. I just figure it's not worth wasting the calories unless I treat myself to a milkshake, which hardly ever happens anyway.
I also exercise. Lately, I've been walking in place again. My family says/thinks this is a good thing. In some ways it is, and in some ways it's not. I feel better when I exercise, because then I feel like I've earned the right to eat and not feel so guilty about it. My family doesn't seem to worry as long as I do eat what they consider a reasonable amount of calories every day. My aunt even encouraged me to increase the miles I walk every day. She didn't specifically mention my weight when she said that, but she said something about how I had gotten around really well when I was walking five miles a day, and talked about how thick my legs are.
I feel my disordered thoughts creeping back up on me again, and my relatives seem to be encouraging this. I was miserable when I walked five miles a day. Any time I ate anything, I felt guilty, even in spite of the exercise I was doing. I was thinner, yes, but I stayed cold all the time. My hair was falling out, and I became a complete bitch when my grandmother would try to make me eat. I was constantly thinking about food or how to avoid food, and I felt relieved when I was allowed to miss meals.
I do not want to go back to that phase of my existence, because it was a living Hell. I hated myself and what the eating disorder turned me into. I am not a mean person. I am not nasty, I am not bad or evil, but during my worst times, I spewed pure venom on those closest to me, because all I wanted was to be left alone to make myself a skeleton. And yet, when I would tell my family I had an eating disorder, they'd say I was fine, I just had issues with food. I felt so alone with all this.
I felt and still feel alone with a lot of things, which is a major reason I've had issues with food and self-harm. Everything comes back to a need to take control over something. It's not about, weight, vanity or attention-seeking. Food and hurting or not hurting my body were things I had control over that no one else had a say in, and that's rare for me. I feel as though I can never meet my family's expectations because they seem so contradictory at times.
On the one hand, I have limitations because of my Cerebral Palsy. and on the other, I'm a human being with an intellect, thoughts, and feelings. I think certain of my relatives have issues reconciling those two things. But, this is my life and my body. I may hate it sometimes, but it's the only one I have. I want to live in it for as long as the higher powers see fit to allow me to do so. That said, I have better things to do than allow the negative thoughts to take control.. I will treat my body with respect, continue to nourish it, and fuck the numbers Fuck people who tell me I need to lose weight. Weight doesn't matter.
Happiness matters. Compassion matters. As long as I behave in a way I can be proud of, screw what everyone else thinks. I won't let them push me back down again. It's happened often enough as it is.