Family vacation to Mexico - August 2018, only two-ish months into recovery.

the thought process every time I open the fridge

**trigger warning: I will talk about my weight and eating disorder-related thoughts and habits**

2021 has hit me HARD. The combination of grad school stress, pandemic-induced isolation, and winter cloudiness has had pretty significant effects on my mental health. I stepped on the scale at my cousin's house to find that my weight dropped from 100 to 95 or 96 in just two or three weeks. A few days later I had a pretty bad food day (I had no appetite and Dallin and I bickered about me needing to eat) and tried to log what I had manage to eat on My Fitness Pal. When I hit "complete entry," it told gave me a message in red saying that it would not tell me my weight projection for the next five weeks because I had eaten too few calories, and it was unsafe. Grudgingly I made myself eat dinner, and then I logged it and got the weight projection: "If you eat like today every day, in five weeks you will weigh 91 lbs." I wanted to SCREAM to the high heavens. 

Part of it was because that was so terrifyingly tempting. Look how easy it would be! And then it would be just another two pounds to get back down to 89! The lowest I ever got--I could do it again!  And then could I go further? I relished the thought, craving to be as tiny as I once was, to indulge fully in the anorexic behaviors that had provided me comfort and satisfaction in the most destructive way possible. The old addiction called to me like a sultry siren for my death.

Another other part of it was because I felt like I had finally moved on, and now I was five weeks away from square 1, five weeks away from the hell I experienced in 2018. My body was deteriorating when I was that underweight, and trying to recover meant months of edema, bloating and acid reflux to help my body heal. How could I possibly think to put myself in that position again? I wouldn't wish an eating disorder and the wretchedly uncomfortable recovery process on my worst enemy.

But the worst was the remembrance that I want to conceive a child, potentially as early as fall this year (2021).  The biggest factor that pushed me toward recovery originally was wanting to make sure I could carry a healthy child to full term whenever that time came. Back in 2018 Dallin and I were just dating, I was only 21 and hadn't even started my undergraduate COMD program yet. I knew I was years out from starting a family. But in 2021 I am 24, have been married for almost 2 years, and am 15 months away from graduating with my Master's.  I should have my crap together.  I want nothing more in this world than to have Dallin's child, but seeing that message from My Fitness Pal made me realize that I am not worthy of such a thing. Not if I cannot get my health--and my eating disorder--under control. And what of that deep deep fear, the nightmare that woke me in tears when I was only 89 pounds, that I may have destroyed my own fertility?

Post from September 2020:

Over 2 years from the time I started my journey of recovery from anorexia nervosa, I still find myself hating food.  This time, though, it's different. When I was in the full grasp of my eating disorder, I hated food for being something I loved.  I wanted it, and in order to gain that sense of control, I deprived myself of the thing I wanted.

Now, however, I frequently find myself repulsed by food. I'm no longer bound to the old rules of what I am and am not allowed to eat...but now, I can hardly get through half my plate without the food turning disgusting in my mouth. The texture is gross, the taste is only bearable... Even foods that I spent hours cooking, that I specifically went to the store to find fancy ingredients for, will often fail to spark my appetite {though I do have a MUCH easier time enjoying it fresh out of the oven than leftover}.  If Dallin's there, I'll force myself to eat the full plate, but if not, I might just dump it back in the pot or throw it away. Foods that I once savored, now make me want to throw up when remembering the smell.  Disclaimer, these food issues do not happen with every single meal of every single day, but I'd say it happens pretty regularly. On the worst of days, I'll plug my nose and chug water in between each bite to get the food down. 

I tried to get onto My Fitness Pal for about three days.  My goal was to gain 10 pounds by Christmas, between my rigid weight training regimen and my strict adherence to eating enough calories.  I hated it.  Part of it was because it sparked too many memories of calorie counting when I was trying to lose weight, but another part of it was that it was so hard to eat enough food. I told myself I would delete the app so I wouldn't have to count calories, and then at least I knew roughly how much I had to eat to gain weight. But the next day I returned to the old habit of skipping meals--not because I was trying to restrict, but because I had absolutely no desire to eat, and nothing in the pantry, fridge, freezer could change my taste buds' mind.  I think my hunger cues are either off, otherwise I am so used to ignoring them that I forget they are there.

I have an easier time eating foods that are cooked by other people, as well as foods that are new or nostalgic, such as the fall flavored goods that appeared in the aisles of Trader Joe's this month. It's often easier to consume calories that don't require a lot of chewing, such as protein shakes {though unfortunately in the last two weeks I have started to feel repulsed by them}, ice cream, cottage cheese, milk, plain soups, cheese, and fruit smoothies. In addition, it's easier if the food is fairly bland, such as bread or crackers with cream cheese or butter. I have had a really hard time with meat texture whether or not I'm the one who cooks it, but I don't feel satisfied without that source of protein! 

I was never a picky child, so why am I a picky adult? I know that it is most likely the old eating disorder testing out a new campaign against me. I know it is most likely a subconscious phenomenon causes by years' worth of negative feeling toward food and weight gain.  It's just so frustrating.