Lovely Readers,
My oh my how the bloat has come. As I’ve upped my calories to nearly 3,000 my stomach and hips have decided to hold onto every bit of water I add to it. Puffy and gross do not even begin to describe how I feel but I feel I have come entirely too far to turn back now.
I will make it through this test, just like all the others, and come out on top. This is no different than all other obstacles that have been thrown my way and if I give in now – like I so badly want to – then I will only have to endure all the past atrocities once again when I decide to recover another time.
The only thing I have to say is: thank God it isn’t bikini season right now. By the time Summer rolls around I’ll be fit and healthy, so for now does it really matter if I have a bit of a distended stomach and bloated ankles (yes they exist)? No, it doesn’t.
They tell you beauty takes pain and honestly, nothing matters more to me now than being healthy and beautiful. To get there I will have to face uneven weight, bloated parts and constant stomach woes but I will think of it simply as I would any other beauty regimen. You sit patiently through the tears of tweezing, redness of waxing and long painful hours spent dying, pulling and tugging your hair into submission. This is no different.
Is it uncomfortable? Yes.
Do I look like a malnourished chipmunk right now? Yes.
Does anyone else seem to notice? No.
I guess this confirms what I already know deep down, that no one can see a 5 pound gain but the gainer themselves. It is in my head and the only difference people are going to see for awhile is the change in my demeanor. I’m positively brimming with newfound vivacity and giddiness.
So this is my message to you my lovely followers: Do not give up. Every time you throw in the towel and allow something as minor as fluid retention to hold you back then you are just one step further from the body of your dreams.
After all, men like a little meat on your bones. I mean, no one talks about Keira Knightley’s ass but Kim Kardashian and J. Lo are practically branded with sexiness by theirs. I think I’ve decided I’d rather have a nice ass and a bit of a tummy than a bony ass and a flat stomach. As I’ve stated earlier, women are made to be soft not hard.
Right now my tummy is made in the likeness of a goose-down pillow which means it’s just perfect for my kitty to curl up on or my future boyfriend to lay his head on. For now I’m going to embrace the soft, pillowy substance that is my bodyand hey, at least it no longer hurts to sit in a wooden chair.
R.
Day #4
What Factors Contributed to Your Choice to Recover?
Hmm, I would have to admit that this is a question I find rather tough to answer. Not because there is no reason – quite the opposite actually – there are simply too many reasons.
• The tears that welled in my mother’s eyes the day she finally decided to weigh me. She gives so much of herself to those she loves and was already stressed enough about financial trouble, her mother’s declining health and her father’s suicidal depression, that I simply couldn’t bear to add to her stress.
• My brother’s tears as I prepared another 3 pound salad for dinner one night. Now he is by no means a softie – he’s in the Air Force for Christ’s sake – yet even he had tears in the corner of his eyes as he took in my emaciated form after months of not seeing me.
•My silent, reserved father silently leaving me a medical book open to the page on anorexia nervosa. My mother later admitted he thought I was going to die and hadn’t been sleeping more than a few hours a night from worry. Of course he told me none of this.
•My boyfriend breaking up with me saying he simply couldn’t bear to see me doing this to myself. He too had dreams of me dying and I think it scared him like no other.
•The realization that if I didn’t get my act together I was A) going to miss out on the best years of my life by locking myself in a dorm room and alienating myself from my peers and B) I was going to start failing if I didn’t provide some nourishment to its shriveling form.
• Realizing that if I were to ever begin traveling the world and experiencing different cultures I couldn’t remain a slave to my giant bowls of veggies and constant calorie-counting; the two just don’t mesh together well.
• What I once saw as a godsend (no cramps, puffiness, or constant bathroom ventures) I now saw as my inability to have children. Lack of a period is a serious sign that you are not alright, no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise.
And now for a few vain reasons….
•My adorable vintage and designer clothes were literally drooping off me. I mean, I haven’t been able to wear proper jeans for over a year (hello jeggings.)
•I want a boyfriend and right now I know I must get better emotionally, mentally and physically for this to ever be plausible.
• I want my hair to be thick once again and my skin to stop bruising so easily.
• Oh, and I wouldn’t mind if those pesky veins decided to disappear as well.