This morning, I must admit, I was feeling super depressed and was seriously considering giving up recovery, giving in to ED, and just going back to being all skinny and depressed all the time.
I think the reason why this was is because I hardly had anything for breakfast. I had a tiny peach (about 30 calories), 1 cup of Kashi cereal (70 calories), 1 cup of soymilk (80 calories), and a wee bit of flax seed (10 calories). Which equates to 190 calories. I really notice a link between the quality and quantity of my food intake with my mood level. For example, the other night, a friend of ours came over and had dinner with us. We had burgers (healthy ones - I had a portabello mushroom in mine, with lettuce and tomato, no cheese or juicy substances), some sliced zucchini, and homemade healthy oatmeal cookies. I felt so alive and energetic and loquacious. I could think clearly, could respond to what people were saying and provide interesting points (we were discussing the ban on the Burqa and the Niqāb in France). It was great.
On the other hand, this morning, with my 190 calorie breaky, I felt angry, depressed, moody, sad, and was extremely quiet the whole morning. I guess when I eat low-cal or little food, it really triggers me back into my anorexic mindset. In any case, today, this combined with what I perceived to be my father's antagonistic attitude towards me the past few days (I felt like he was annoyed and tired of me, and just hated me) made me fall into the dumps. I was disgusted with my body, which I deemed fat and podgy in my well-fitting Zara shirt and small skinny jeans from Abercrombie. These jeans were perfect for when I was 92 pounds (aka my worst) even roomy. Now, I feel like they are super tight around my hips, they come too low on my abs (seriously, like, right above my pubic hair!), give my stomach a muffin-top, and overall remind me that I'm fatter now than I was then. And my shirt... ugh, awful. It's a tight-fitting, black and white striped, three-quarter length sleeved shirt. And it hugs my no longer perfectly flat (nay concave) belly. I had to constantly be sucking in my stomach, and even then it still showed some hint of bulge. Not pretty.
So, all that said, I was feeling disgusted with my physical appearance. I realized that I would never again get the love, support, concern, and worry my parents lavished over me when I was extremely sick and emaciated, if I gained weight. I will only get that repulsive indifference, or worse, disgust.
Okay, I wrote this last Tuesday (3rd of August) and never quite finished it. I got up for something else I suppose and must have forgotten about it.
In any case, I'm in a much better mood right now, so all's well. Oh, and I got my wisdom teeth removed! My face puffed up like a chipmunk (I literally look obese right now.) I have felt very little pain though (faithfully taking my Vicodin every 4 hours has done wonders) and my mom has been taking very good care of me and loving me to bits, so all is going really well.
I've been on a relatively liquid diet, but composed of healthy liquids, like soup, chocolate pudding (yes I know, crazy right? 300 calories for 1/2 cup!), sherbet, smoothies, mashed potatoes, and yogurt.
I was kind of worried that I would be chained to my bed and fed entirely by my parents, who think I eat nothing, and would starve for about a week, but they've been quite liberal in their feeding of me, and I've actually been on my feet for a while, and occasionally feeding myself.
Another good thing is that, yes I have puffed up like a chipmunk, but my parents still love me and have still been caring for me. I have had a deep rooted fear for a long time that once I gain weight, they'll hate me. But this has kind of alleviated that fear.
Anyway, I'm off for a short walk with my dad.