Deterioration and Continuity... Oh, and Strep

Me a few days after eating again. It was Halloween
and I was Barbie. I was so bloated and fat!

Okay, I really failed today and skipped basically every meal. I had one small meal today, which isn't good because my recovery plan was to eat every four hours. Part of me is still where I am happy that I didn't eat. I am especially on low self-esteem today and I feel so fat. But I know that is just my ex talking to me. Gonna stop listening to him and try to eat a little something that has some higher cals in it (like pumpkin seeds). The thing I had today was a small vegetarian Indian T.V. dinner, which is ironic because my bestie from India (you know who you are, Elina) said that today was an Indian holiday. What a coincidence! Truth is, Indian food is my favorite kind of food, but I haven't had in... I don't even know how long it's been.
Another thing is that I went to the doctors today. I made sure that they didn't tell me my weight. I am way too scared that I gained a lot of weight. I am not prepared emotionally to see how much I gained. Anyway, I have been very sick this whole week. I couldn't even swallow one night. So even though I was tired of going to the doctors, I went anyway. And my doctor tested me for strep. I am positive. Ontop of all the vitamins I have to take, I am taking antibiotics and probiotics as well now. I am drinking a lot of tea. Everytime I prepare my tea, I can't help but think about all those times I would drink tea if I ever felt starvation. That would be one of the ways I would calm my stomach down. I have Ed telling me to continue doing that again. Girl, get over him, he's not worth it!
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Back to the story I was telling all you last night...
[...It wasn't even a full serving of grits for crying out loud! In a strange way, I was proud of how little of food was too much for my body to handle. It made me realize how little my stomach was. I didn't want to give up my Ed. He meant so much to me...]  So why did I decide I didn't want him anymore? I am not truly sure. I think it was something more gradual, rather than a sudden decision. I was tired. Tired of being yelled at for not eating. Tired of being freezing even in ninety degree weather. Tired of blanking out when I stood up. Tired of not having much joy. Tired of being the total opposite of me. Dude, I even stopped being boy-crazy. No one saw that coming. There are some bonuses to Ana... being skinny (duh), losing more weight everyday, not having a period (so far, I still do not have it... what a bittersweet day that will be when it does arrive), and the feeling of will-power and confidence. But those "bonuses" were seperating me from what really mattered; life and everything in it. I just wish it was as easy as it sounds. But I do believe in myself enough to realize it can be done.

P.S. I am working on adding pages!

This Awakening Breath...

I was not skinny at all in this photo (110 lbs & gaining). It makes me sick to even
look at this. I am so terrified that I may wind up back to this weight again.

The Beginning of last week. That's when I was sent to the doctors without being told until that morning and it turned out to be about my weight (as I had guessed). I made sure to drink a lot of water to gain weight... and I even added some "weights" in my pockets. Anything to add some pounds so that they couldn't really expect anything. Good, I thought when the nurse weighed me. I have definitely gained weight for this. I was actually ninety pounds, but their scale said ninety-five. It was as good as I probably could have gotten to short weight-gain that wouldn't linger. It wasn't good enough, however. The doctor said I was underweight even so, and that I should gain weight. Then she went all psychological on me and asked all these questions. My mom was there, of course. She told my doctor I was getting only three hundred and fifty calories a day. The truth on that? I was tricking my mom. I didn't go past fifty calories per day. A peach a day. Or half an apple. Or half a banana. Or maybe nothing at all. I didn't feel starvation anymore, because it was so normal to not eat. It actually felt worse to eat than not to (mentally and physically). My mom mentioned my excessive exercising. I don't think my mom knew how much I really was burning. I would have to burn at least one thousand calories each day. But most days I'd get higher than that. It wasn't uncommon to even get to two and a half thousand calories burned. It didn't matter how fatigued I was to even think, I had to burn calories. Back to the doctors: My mom left the room and my doctor asked me all these questions. "What do you think of your body? Do you get periods? Are you fatigued? Do you enjoy eating?" I was pretty ticked off, I must say. It's MY body, I thought. You don't see me trying to stop you from whatever you're doing! After being bombarded by questions, she left the room to talk to my mom for what seemed like an hour. I wanted to know what they were saying about me. If it's about me, I have the right to know, don't I? They finally come back into the room, and then I get a huge lecture. I completely blocked out everything my doctor was saying. I only listened to my boyfriend (Ed) and my best friend (Ana). They were my life. We got home and after hours of being threatened many different things (put into an anorexic group home, being taken to the ER and have tubes in me, etc), my dad was going outside to take me to the hospital. I have already been to the hospital once because I had gotten very sick from Ana (nearly fainted, throat started closing, severe stomach pains, and I could barely move... it lasted for days). I had IVs and cat scans and a whole bunch of crap. I just didn't want to go through that again. So, I told them I would eat. I had to eat something with high calories. I was trying my hardest to delay eating. I think I was searching everything for an hour. I decided to eat the spaghetti leftovers in the fridge. But I didn't eat it. Normally, I would have just thrown the food away, but this time my parents were watching me. I said that the spaghetti wasn't good and I wanted something else. And eventually I chose grits. My mom was making the grits. I saw her with butter that she was about to throw in and it completely scared me. I told my mom I didn't want the butter, and she went ballistic. She threw our dining chair, ruining it plus the floor. And then she threw a plate, breaking that. So then my dad comes in and cooks the grits, compromising with me and cutting the butter portion in half. I had half a serving of grits and my stomach was most definitely confused on what I just did; I had the worst stomachache. It wasn't even a full serving of grits for crying out loud! In a strange way, I was proud of how little of food was too much for my body to handle. It made me realize how little my stomach was. I didn't want to give up my Ed. He meant so much to me.

Whoa there! I gotta stop blogging now, because it is almost four o'clock A.M. and I need some sleep. I guess you'd say this is to be continued...