A Day in the Life, and I’ve Had it Up to Here

Recovery Anna and ED Anna are currently at odds in my head, hardcore.

I spend 9 1/2 hours at work a day. I wake up at 6:30am, and leave for work at 7am. I get there by 7:30, punch in, and work work work, and I leave to return home at 5pm, getting me home at around 5:30.

I am allowed to snack at my desk, and I usually have a protein bar and a miscellaneous fruit around. I get a lunch break of an hour, at noon, where I may eat a meal.

Throughout the morning, I make several glances at my snacks. Or if I have none, by 10 I usually grab some crackers out of the vending machine. And then place them  to the side of my desk, where my protein bar would usually be. If I eat my snacks before lunch, everyone will see me eating. Can I handle that today? Most days no. Every so often (usually around my period) I can do it, but for the most part, no. I don’t want anyone to see me fucking eat. So despite my hunger, I convince myself that I should not consume anything until lunch break. I spend the next two hours thinking about if I want to buy lunch (there’s a thousand options by my office) or if I will eat my protein bar/crackers/fruit for lunch instead. I calculate calories while I calculate fee schedules and accounts receivable at work. The fruit (usually an apple or banana) is 75. The crackers are 220 with 4 grams of protein. The protein bar is 180 with 10 grams of protein (or 110 with 11 grams of protein if I eat half a large one).  Then it’s noon. I realize I haven’t drank enough water for the day, so that hunger is most likely actually thirst, right? I’ll visit with mom during lunch break, and eat when I get back after some water. Mother offers lunch but I tell her I eat all day at my desk. She knows I’m lying but as long as I don’t get too “anorexic” looking (my father uses that phrase and I hate it…it’s more or less saying you’re too thin but you’re not anorexic so knock it off), it’s fine. I get back to the office and take my snacks out, placed on the left side of my desk like they belong. I drink 18 oz of water. Then 36, then 54, then 72 oz. I will continue to glance back and forth at these snacks, but I realize, it’s getting closer and closer to 5. I don’t want to get any food in all that nice clean water I drank. And plus, it’s good to be hungry when I get home so I can cook dinner. And I know I’ll feel better about eating dinner if I haven’t eaten anything yet for the day.

Even though I don’t consume any food while I’m at work, I am thinking about food all day. What can I eat, when can I eat, why can’t I eat.

I get home by 5:30, and usually from there I eat nothing, or everything. I have a very hard time finding the in between. I can’t eat anything until I smoke the herb. And once I do that, the voices of ana have usually softened, and while I do keep calorie intake in mind, I can eat more freely and less guiltily. Until the next morning that is.

Every morning I wake up, and before I even open my eyes, I try to remember what I ate the day before. I need to know if I should be hungry before I know if I am. If that makes any sense. I look at my fingers to see if they’re swollen or bony looking. That will give me a heads up for my soon-to-come rendez-vous with the scale. My heart races, I jump out of bed (making sure not to injure any kitties on my way) and run to the bathroom. Did I wake up extra sweaty? If I did, factor that into my weight (even though I don’t know if that makes a difference, if I’m sweaty, it’s like being wet, and you weigh more when you’re wet right??). I pee first. Get naked. Look at my body in the mirror (unless the night before was a binge, then I make no eye contact with the mirror or the scale), how flat does my stomach look? Hip and rib bones still there? If I feel extra thin, I might check my spine as well. This gives me a little preparation for the scale. I estimate what I think I’ll weigh by considering what I weighed the past few days, and what I ate yesterday. I have to have a lowest and highest number in my head each time, that way I’m prepared for the worst. Recently, I’ve started brushing my teeth before the scale. This is a new habit. Somehow, my mind decided several months ago that plaque might weigh something, therefore I need to brush my mouth out BEFORE stepping on the scale. Fine, whatever you say crazy thoughts. Teeth brushed, naked, and heart racing, I step on, left food then right. I try not to hold my breath or take any deep breaths (because we all know how much AIR weighs lol but it just feels heavy) and I look down.

 

At that moment, the rest of my day is usually decided, moodwise. On the weekends, my live in boyfriend is very used to knowing what a “good weigh in” morning vs a “bad weigh in” morning look like. I keep the weights logged in my work planner, and write mean notes to myself about how disgusting I am. The words “fat fuck” appear in my calender more times than the word Monday, I’m sure.

 

None of this makes sense. None of this behaviors are productive, healthy, or even logical. I know this. I am human. I am capable of rational thought by species definition.

And yet here I am, living out this anything but rational life of the eating disordered and I have had it up to here.

And yet here I am, still feeling fat as fuck, and I’ve had it up to here.

Which part am I sicker of?!

 

Love & Light,

Anna

 

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