kirmy
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2014
- Messages
- 748
So I’m on a diet.
Some of you might remember my smug arse posts when I could eat ANYTHING…including WW2 Jeeps with no weight gain. “Oh my God I’m so skinny I may die…but I’ll die in nice clothes”…posts. What a fucking arsehole! I’d like to kick skinny Kirmy in the box. Really!
Anyway here is how it’s gone. My head is utterly mashed with fear of getting fat. I have a mental mother who became anorexic when I lost my weight due to her fear of me outdoing her. I have always battled compulsive eating disorders and really very fucking disordered eating behaviours. I was secretly happy I was so skinny people worried about me (and I was eating like a machine and still getting skinny). I intellectually realised that this was skirting along the edge of an eating disorder and gave myself an upper cut psychologically. I pushed myself to look at this head on rather than continue this juggernaut of doom. Houston we have a problem.
It was 3.5 years of sustained weight loss culminating in my Bangladeshi BMI (I kid you not…BBC website confirmed it) and it was literally effortless. I ate M&M peanuts like they were going out of season. I maintained my 134lbs weight without any effort on my 5ft 7 inch frame. I also struggled like mad to keep any muscle mass at all. My arse….well….it’s a Concentration Camp arse. Terrible….. My broad shoulders had a scrawny turkey neck on them and my face sported Marionette lines and peach fuzz. I knew what I was seeing…someone underweight.
It’s 5 years in January 2015 since my DS. I mark this time because I’ll be able to buy life insurance. I also mark this time by realising that my size 6-8 frame has remained sort of the same. When I say sort of it have regained a stone in weight but I still mostly squish into my clothes. I look better than my concentration camp look and intellectually I know this is ideal. Here is the rub…I want to weigh 134lbs again. My inner bitch voice tells me that this is the number of success. I know this is stupid beyond measure and a dangerous way to think but there it is…my inner anorexic trying to audition for the driver’s seat. She is an arsehole.
So when the going gets tough the disordered get eating. I have been acting against evil inner bitch voice and have been eating carbs like a one woman ozone reducing machine. I’ve been physically ill during this period of feast and feast. I’ve shit myself, I’ve go piles that would impress a carpet salesman, I’ve so rearranged my guy bacteria that I look like an ad for Food Aid even when I eat to plan. I’ve been shambolic. When you’re this broken how do you fix it?
My friend joined Scottish Slimmers in order to lose weight (she’s about the same starting size as me….I know tried to talk her into the DS) and to support her I went along too. It was here I discovered they had a Boost plan which is essentially the Atkins diet. I read the information booklet and realised it was exactly how I eat when I’m not being a total dickhead. After a bit of internal dialogue with the inner bitch I decided to join up and press gang myself into compliance. Well bugger me (gingerly my piles are still there) but it works.
I’ve not almost died in a shit storm in over a week. It actually got so bad that I farted while Linus was sitting in my lap and Mrytle charged him and bit him thinking he was snarling to attack me. Now every time I fart he runs away and hides. The poor little bugger….all because of my bum. It’s bad when your dog’s blame you for farting.
So here I am. I’m not sure what I’m hoping to attain. I don’t want to be sick or screwed up or chasing an impossible ideal. I knew bounce back was coming but I just didn’t realise how devastating it could potentially be to someone whose brain is wired to self-harm with food. I’m actually slim. I look good. I barely made the cut to join the class because my BMI was normal. It took explaining for them to realise I’m yearning for structure and compliance. So far so good. I suppose I’m on a diet. Never thought I’d find myself back here.
When will I approve of me? Is this the woman human condition or am I battle weary and screwed up? I know my size 8 Jeans are tight on my hips and my thighs...I wish they weren't but will that launch a 1000 eating disorders? The inner bitch wants them to fall off by the normal me thinks she should go boil her heid.
Some of you might remember my smug arse posts when I could eat ANYTHING…including WW2 Jeeps with no weight gain. “Oh my God I’m so skinny I may die…but I’ll die in nice clothes”…posts. What a fucking arsehole! I’d like to kick skinny Kirmy in the box. Really!
Anyway here is how it’s gone. My head is utterly mashed with fear of getting fat. I have a mental mother who became anorexic when I lost my weight due to her fear of me outdoing her. I have always battled compulsive eating disorders and really very fucking disordered eating behaviours. I was secretly happy I was so skinny people worried about me (and I was eating like a machine and still getting skinny). I intellectually realised that this was skirting along the edge of an eating disorder and gave myself an upper cut psychologically. I pushed myself to look at this head on rather than continue this juggernaut of doom. Houston we have a problem.
It was 3.5 years of sustained weight loss culminating in my Bangladeshi BMI (I kid you not…BBC website confirmed it) and it was literally effortless. I ate M&M peanuts like they were going out of season. I maintained my 134lbs weight without any effort on my 5ft 7 inch frame. I also struggled like mad to keep any muscle mass at all. My arse….well….it’s a Concentration Camp arse. Terrible….. My broad shoulders had a scrawny turkey neck on them and my face sported Marionette lines and peach fuzz. I knew what I was seeing…someone underweight.
It’s 5 years in January 2015 since my DS. I mark this time because I’ll be able to buy life insurance. I also mark this time by realising that my size 6-8 frame has remained sort of the same. When I say sort of it have regained a stone in weight but I still mostly squish into my clothes. I look better than my concentration camp look and intellectually I know this is ideal. Here is the rub…I want to weigh 134lbs again. My inner bitch voice tells me that this is the number of success. I know this is stupid beyond measure and a dangerous way to think but there it is…my inner anorexic trying to audition for the driver’s seat. She is an arsehole.
So when the going gets tough the disordered get eating. I have been acting against evil inner bitch voice and have been eating carbs like a one woman ozone reducing machine. I’ve been physically ill during this period of feast and feast. I’ve shit myself, I’ve go piles that would impress a carpet salesman, I’ve so rearranged my guy bacteria that I look like an ad for Food Aid even when I eat to plan. I’ve been shambolic. When you’re this broken how do you fix it?
My friend joined Scottish Slimmers in order to lose weight (she’s about the same starting size as me….I know tried to talk her into the DS) and to support her I went along too. It was here I discovered they had a Boost plan which is essentially the Atkins diet. I read the information booklet and realised it was exactly how I eat when I’m not being a total dickhead. After a bit of internal dialogue with the inner bitch I decided to join up and press gang myself into compliance. Well bugger me (gingerly my piles are still there) but it works.
I’ve not almost died in a shit storm in over a week. It actually got so bad that I farted while Linus was sitting in my lap and Mrytle charged him and bit him thinking he was snarling to attack me. Now every time I fart he runs away and hides. The poor little bugger….all because of my bum. It’s bad when your dog’s blame you for farting.
So here I am. I’m not sure what I’m hoping to attain. I don’t want to be sick or screwed up or chasing an impossible ideal. I knew bounce back was coming but I just didn’t realise how devastating it could potentially be to someone whose brain is wired to self-harm with food. I’m actually slim. I look good. I barely made the cut to join the class because my BMI was normal. It took explaining for them to realise I’m yearning for structure and compliance. So far so good. I suppose I’m on a diet. Never thought I’d find myself back here.
When will I approve of me? Is this the woman human condition or am I battle weary and screwed up? I know my size 8 Jeans are tight on my hips and my thighs...I wish they weren't but will that launch a 1000 eating disorders? The inner bitch wants them to fall off by the normal me thinks she should go boil her heid.