It's been over a month now that I've been following my weight gain meal plan and so obviously my weight was going to go up. It's common sense really. So I had prepared myself for my weigh in yesterday.. at least I thought I had. I told myself it was going to go up and that it had to go up at some point anyway, so I went in thinking right this isn't going to be very nice but I'll be okay. I wasn't okay. Far from it in fact.
The doctor opens the door to the treatment room and with a click it closes behind us. I can feel my heart racing, pounding in my chest, BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM, everything is spinning around me so fast, I feel sick, I dont want to step on the scales, I dont want to see, I dont want to know.
I step on the scales, the number flashes up, I step off again. On, off, just like that. It's done, it's over, the number went up as expected. I didn't expect to feel quite so awful though, I thought that because I want to get better now it would be okay. It really wasn't. I feel a tear stream down my cheek, and another, and another, "well done, I'm very proud" the doctor says, trying to make me feel better, I tell her what's going through my head. It went up by too much, I'm fat now, I'm fat and I hate it, its too much, the number is too high, I knew it would go up, but I wish I didn't have to see. I wipe away the tears as she takes my blood pressure and tells me that it's still very low, usually that would be give me a sort of comfort, but I just feel sad. She tells me I'm still very underweight and that I need to keep going, the first weight gain is mainly water and help to fix my organs, so I need to take a deep breath. I feel dissapointed in a way, disappointed that actually I amn't okay, that the voice in my head has suddenly turned up a notch, I feel sad, I'm self concious and scared that I look fat now.
I feel so unhappy in myself and I hate my body right now, it's as I've walked straight into a brick wall. I go home, I dont eat much, Im not hungry, still swallowing the weight gain, trying to tell myself that it's okay, that its good, but A isnt happy, it's screaming and screaming, and so I go out with my friend for the day, I eat, but in my heart I know its not enough. A tells me I'm doing good and that I need to stop the weight gain, I listen for a while, sulking in my sadness and hatered of the situation. I pretend I'm okay, that I'm happy and I dont care, but I do.
Suddenly I realise what I'm doing, what I always used to do if I gained weight - listen to A and do what it tells me, slip back into its clutches. I'm restricting to make up for the weight gain. It's such an easy trap to fall into. But I've noticed, and I fight back, I eat some chocolate and pick myself back up. I'm determined and I will not give in, this is what I need to do to get better, restricting again isn't going to make it easier or make it go away, it's going to make it worse.
I'm still feeling really rubbish and low and just not very good about the whole thing, but I know deep down that I'm doing the right thing. I just wish it wasn't so hard....