--
Our sessions always start the same way. She should know by now that I never accept. However, it is nice hospitality to offer. We then got into the routine of her asking how my week went. Honestly, it was exhausting. Thanks to Apple's release, I got more work than I bargained for. People are very serious about their technology. I almost got in between one of their fights over placement in line!
I gave her my usual non-committal answers just passing time until we got into the gritty stuff. Over the course of our session I did a lot of searching.
I found that I am scared to even talk about my problems with anyone. I'm afraid that something is horribly wrong with me, and by digging deeper, I might not like what I find. My other barrier to digging deeper was I still have the Marine mentality. DISCLAIMER: I AM MAKING NO ENDORSEMENTS FOR OR AGAINST THE MARINE CORPS, THIS WAS SIMPLY MY EXPERIENCE. I LOVED THE CORPS.
The problem with this is that it's not common to ask for help in the Corps. You were made into a weak body, a failure so to speak. To even admit that you have feelings of any sort, is highly discouraged. Thus, the decisions I've made up to this point have still been in that mind set. What I'm feeling doesn't matter, I can carry on the way I have been.
Reality of the situation is, I can't.
Let me enlighten you, or at least try. I got counseling while I was serving due to my weight. Essentially I was told I don't look good in uniform. Generally if you tell a female this, they're bound to get a little upset. I just wanted to fix the problem but in turn created a far greater problem. What started as a bid to get rid of a few harmless pounds turned into an obsession. While I am a very intelligent person, my rational side doesn't always rule my brain as it should.
I stood over the toilet, heart racing, straining to hear the occupant in the stall beside me. Scared of being caught I turned around so my boots were in the right direction. This carried on for months at a time. Fooling everyone on the installation. Or so I thought. I would go to the chow hall with my brothers and sisters in arms. We would eat, or I would pretend to eat. One day, my roommate noticed what I was doing and urged me to go to medical. I loathe medical, always have, always will. Aside from waiting what seemed like forever, I don't like admitting that I'm struggling. I'm very stubborn and prefer to string out things as long as I possibly can. Do not try this at home, folks.
I eventually broke down and went to mental health, blah blah blah, I'm a civilian again. I hate it.
Before you all take offense, let me explain. I have always craved the structure of the military. I had similar instances in my youth where structure plays a big part. (As is common in eating disorders which are often strictly regimented) It does not make sense to me how I started purging. However, I did, and it has been downhill since. I strongly dislike purging so I like to restrict much more. Yes, this often leaves me grumpy and tired, but anything is better than getting called out for being fat. You may ask why I still do this months after my discharge from the military, some days so do I. Those are my good days, the ones I actually do want to "get better." Majority of my days are not like that.
The other day I got a comment from one of my co-workers. I believe they meant it to be in a joking matter but it still crushed my fragile self-esteem. It went along the lines of, you need to be careful or you're going to get fat! I'm not sure what possessed him to say it and will not make excuses for him. Eating disorders are tricky, just as I was beginning to (attempt to) push away from it, it reminds me why I need it. Without it, I am nothing-just another fat person in the US. Calories and restricting rule my world. There is never a moment where I don't think about them. This is my identity, and I will do anything in attempt to please that dark voice in my head. That ever persisting voice that haunts my waking and resting hours.
Anyways, my therapist (the one I see primarily for ED's) recommended I get evaluated at an eating disorders clinic. This was also at the urging of my aforementioned therapist whom I see for "everything else." My honest reply? I don't want to. You can try to scare me however you wish, doesn't matter to me. The daredevil in me says that I'll just face it again when (if) that time comes.
If you were to see me on the street one day, assuming I wasn't compulsively trying to run the fat off, you'd think I was just another average 20 year old female. I don't look like I have an eating disorder which validates my point that I don't have an eating disorder. I did go to a medical doctor as part of a physical, and if anything, that made it worse.
It wasn't due to lack of nutrition. They took my height and my weight, embarrassed by the numbers I was quiet most of the visit. My EKG ran clean, but I was very dehydrated and my electrolytes were becoming imbalanced. This didn't scare me though, I can always drink more water/sports drinks. In my medical charts, it states that I currently see a mental health provider due to PTSD, depression, etc. It also says that I may be suffering from anorexia nervosa, the Doc took notice of that and looked me up and down. She proceeded to tell me that I looked fine and probably didn't have any problem with eating. It was mortifying. So I was forced to conclude that I am overweight (amazing how the brain works, huh?) and need to take action. This is my motivation to lose weight. I need to lose weight, by any means possible. That number reflects how I value everything, if it's not low enough, I fail that day. I get a chance the next day, but it ALWAYS must be better.
That's all for now, I'm going to go get off my lazy butt and go for a run....or to the pool....probably both.
No comments:
New comments are not allowed.