Numbers, numbers, numbers!
ED is obsessed with numbers. Weight. Clothes sizes. Portions. Calories. Numbers, numbers...and more numbers. He'll tell me that I weigh too much, am eating too much, and have had too many calories for the day.
You weak girl. How could you consume so much food in ONE day? You do not need all of that. What will the scale say? Why did you not eat less food? You must eat less today. Put smaller portions. You want - no, you NEED - the scale to show lower numbers. You need to wear smaller clothes. NUMBERS RULE YOUR LIFE. You are worthless if you cannot maintain a low weight, wear tiny clothes, and eat little amounts of food.
And so, I am left feeling controlled by numbers. ED makes me feel trapped in the world of adding up what I ate, seeing how much weight I have gained, and comparing the labels of my clothing sizes. And ED takes advantage of the fact that I am pretty skilled at math....so numbers and counting comes easy to me. He'll take over my thoughts all day and all night, trying to convince me that I am nothing more than a combination of numbers - amounts of food, sizes of clothes, and digits on the scale.
As I am in recovery, ED gets more and more obsessed with numbers. Each time I get weighed and the scale goes up, ED shouts and screams that I am becoming fat. This has happened a lot lately. He'll link the numbers to my self-worth and esteem, proclaiming that if I cannot succeed at being a low weight, I cannot succeed at anything in life.
What makes it worse is that each time I am weighed and the numbers go up, I must remind myself that this is not an opportunity to decrease my food intake - as ED would simply love this. I have to remind myself that my metabolism will increase as my body makes use of the energy I am consuming. Thus, I will need to continue to eat the same amounts for a while because eventually, I will no longer gain on this amount of food. What does that mean in terms of food? It means that eventually, the starved person's body needs more food than the average human just to maintain weight. So, to INCREASE my weight, I might actually end up having to eat even more (joy!).
(This study: http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/1957930?ordinalpos=1&itool=EntrezSystem2.PEntrez.Pubmed.Pubmed_ResultsPanel.Pubmed_DiscoveryPanel.Pubmed_Discovery_RA&linkpos=1&log$=relatedarticles&logdbfrom=pubmed explains it in more scientific terms!).
So, every time ED fills my head with thoughts about restricting or tries to make me feel fat, I have to block him out. ED says starve, I say EAT. He says lose weight, I say gain - or at least, maintain! He says that I am no good, I say that I am GREAT. He says that I do not deserve to eat, be happy, or to be loved...I say that I deserve all good things.
ED says that I deserve to die. I say that I deserve to LIVE.
You weak girl. How could you consume so much food in ONE day? You do not need all of that. What will the scale say? Why did you not eat less food? You must eat less today. Put smaller portions. You want - no, you NEED - the scale to show lower numbers. You need to wear smaller clothes. NUMBERS RULE YOUR LIFE. You are worthless if you cannot maintain a low weight, wear tiny clothes, and eat little amounts of food.
And so, I am left feeling controlled by numbers. ED makes me feel trapped in the world of adding up what I ate, seeing how much weight I have gained, and comparing the labels of my clothing sizes. And ED takes advantage of the fact that I am pretty skilled at math....so numbers and counting comes easy to me. He'll take over my thoughts all day and all night, trying to convince me that I am nothing more than a combination of numbers - amounts of food, sizes of clothes, and digits on the scale.
As I am in recovery, ED gets more and more obsessed with numbers. Each time I get weighed and the scale goes up, ED shouts and screams that I am becoming fat. This has happened a lot lately. He'll link the numbers to my self-worth and esteem, proclaiming that if I cannot succeed at being a low weight, I cannot succeed at anything in life.
What makes it worse is that each time I am weighed and the numbers go up, I must remind myself that this is not an opportunity to decrease my food intake - as ED would simply love this. I have to remind myself that my metabolism will increase as my body makes use of the energy I am consuming. Thus, I will need to continue to eat the same amounts for a while because eventually, I will no longer gain on this amount of food. What does that mean in terms of food? It means that eventually, the starved person's body needs more food than the average human just to maintain weight. So, to INCREASE my weight, I might actually end up having to eat even more (joy!).
(This study: http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/1957930?ordinalpos=1&itool=EntrezSystem2.PEntrez.Pubmed.Pubmed_ResultsPanel.Pubmed_DiscoveryPanel.Pubmed_Discovery_RA&linkpos=1&log$=relatedarticles&logdbfrom=pubmed explains it in more scientific terms!).
So, every time ED fills my head with thoughts about restricting or tries to make me feel fat, I have to block him out. ED says starve, I say EAT. He says lose weight, I say gain - or at least, maintain! He says that I am no good, I say that I am GREAT. He says that I do not deserve to eat, be happy, or to be loved...I say that I deserve all good things.
ED says that I deserve to die. I say that I deserve to LIVE.
