Tag Archive | fat

OK life keeps happening and faster than I can turn out past posts to update.

Quick back story: please note this is not how I wanted to tell yall.

I am engaged.

Yes you read that right. Cassie is fucking engaged. For real life. MTV TRUE LIFE: I Am an Anorexic Who is Engaged.

Very mindfucking surreal. Derealization big time.

Anyways. The one thing of two I have dread the most about this whole wedding process is Ed’s voice and the combat that would ensue.

And when would it come up?

Two times to be exact: 1) wedding dress shopping and 2) walking down the aisle.

I do not….not want all eyes on me. People judging me. The dress makes me look fatter. Oh you see her juggling arms? She looks like a whore because I can see cleavage. Omg double chin?!

Honestly going naked sounds so much more appealing than the whole dress trying on.

My hand was forced and before I knew it there I was on 2.5mg of a benzodiazepam totally experiencing derealization.

Everyone else cries and is ecstatic and is pumped for this day. I’ve put it off for months. I cried going in. There is no “real dress moment” for me because none will make me feel pretty enough to be a bride. Ed and Edie are already on that.

I feel so unworthy. I watch as a skinny ass butch near me tries on the exact same dress I had on and of course she looks good. She has no books or hips. It fits perfect. She’s just having a joyous occasion. I’m trying to not cry.

Bridal gown shopping is not meant for girls/women with body image disorders. Period. And this needs to be fixed Stat.

I left exhausted and hating myself. I can’t deal with the world.

Of course I’m pmsing at the same time.

Fuck being a bride. Can I go toga?


Let’s Call It A Comeback

While I’ve been crafting my multiple tales behind the scenes to release unto you [ooo so fancy sounding] life clearly keeps happening. Anorexia and anxiety don’t just disappear. Those who are cured I am disgustingly envious of.

Again, I am a lifer.

I may have learned to cope with it and how to “interact” with anorexia and anxiety, but I will never be cured. Alas, my only cure is death. And while I have begged for it at times and needed it as well, I could never do it.

I digress.

I have been struggling a lot lately with stress and eating. I’m doing decently in the sense I’m eating at least one meal a day. This is major for me. It’s not like I’m actively trying to avoid it; I have no hunger instinct so I can go a whole day without even noticing I have not consumed anything. It’s bad.

My job is unnecessarily stressful. A post to come. But I also have a new stress trigger that is really driving Ed’s voice into overdrive. It will come out in another post, but let’s just say there is an extreme amount of pressure on how I will look and eyes will be on me.

OH heyyy Ed! Edie, you’re here, too?! Omg it’s a party!!

Let’s throw in all that PTSD training trying to counteract all that. Mmmm joy.

A few months ago I was cleared to return to the gym. After 2 years of physical injury. And 1.5 years before that of restriction for therapy.

Just a reminder, I have hypergymnasia: I have spent excessive amounts of time at the gym in an attempt to lose weight. It was my purge. And when I go to the gym, I lose myself and all sense of time. It’s a total mindfuck to be honest.

The last time I was in a gym, ugh I was so unhealthy!!! I had just broken my ankle and shoulder. And I was at the gym running on the treadmill while in pain. That was 2 years ago OH SHIT TO THIS WEEK!!!

Well, I made plans with one of my besties to return to the gym. Part of my recovery contingencies [for life] is I’m not allowed to workout alone. We were supposed to go last week and again Monday.

I got so anxious I panicked and canceled.

Between the stress of work and this pressure to be thin, I did the healthy thing and did not go.

I know if I went, I would be starting under the wrong intentions and it would be downhill from there. My bestie knows everything that’s going on and has been so supportive.

So today we went. And I was so anxious. And scared.

I was worried I was too fat in the gym outfit I had. I was honestly fearful of the judgment by people at the gym. I was scared I would lose control. I was afraid I would spiral; that Ed would slide into control.

What I was most fearful of? My injuries being so bad that they would incapacitate me from doing the exercises I know and love. And I would have lost my identity.

Good news: the broken shoulder has healed enough through physical therapy that I was able to do the exercises I have done in the past!! I actually cried at the gym. The ankle has as well.

Bad news: I can’t turn off the hypergymnasia. My beastie turned to me and was like we have been here an hour time to go. I honestly thought it had been 10 minutes.

Absolutely no concept of time. It’s scary. I could end up hurting myself again. Breaking something. Or, as Eddie points out, getting fatter because I am working out too much without enough caloric intake.

I gain weight when I stop eating. I am am atypical anorexic due to years of anorexia and no formal treatment till my late twenties.

I feel disgusted by myself for feeling pleasure in the muscle burn and stamina I have. It’s not because I’m healthier than I thought but for the idea I can keep pushing myself harder.

But dammit, this is a massive comeback!! Literally years in the making.

Cassie is back at the gym. My happy place. Under supervision of a bestie. Without therapy support. Trying to do this the right way.

Here’s a big challenge!!

Where to Start?!

This is my return.

I’m overwhelmed with what to say. Like where to start.

There has been so many changes in my life over the past 7 months. I wanted to write as they happened. It helps me process and feel. Experience the moment as they say in DBT.

Thanks to fear and trying to protect my anonymity, I had to give time in-between some significant events so that I cannot be identified.

I have followed of you and am so proud of you. Your accomplishments and strides you are making. These struggles are so. Real.

I guess the first biggest struggle, which will be my first focus, is I completed, and graduated from the Trauma Therapy.

As in I had no choice they basically told me, in one month we are cutting you free because that’s the end goal. After 4 years of intensive therapy. To nothing.

Oooo plot twist?!

Quotes Because

I’m barely holding on.

People are so jacked and cruel in this world. This is literally holding me together.


Believe what you want. But this is my thought.

I believe we have deeper connections with some people. Like we can sense when something is wrong or off with that person; sense their distress.

I have it with a few people. Maybe because I chose to foster those connections and relationships–who knows!

That is just the background for my freaky intuition that I didn’t realize I was having.

The past few months I have had horrendous bloating, spotting, weight gain, and specific weight gain in my stomach.

With that has come severe irrational thoughts of me being pregnant. Never ending ruminations.

It’s not possible right now–if I was I’d be dead.

But the fat and weight gain just hike up the paranoia.

I received a call from one of my bests tonight: “I have big news” “You’re pregnant!!”

Not a beat was dropped. I surprised even myself for knowing that! Yet somehow I knew.

Ya how the fuck I would know that is a miracle! They weren’t even trying yet. The last discussion was a joke about how she gets a year till they start trying. She had wanted more time.

Alas, here we are.

Excited. Nervous. Praying for a girl 💎💅🏻🍼🎀

But maybe my body was sympathizing and in tune with her–fake pregnancy and all. Get fat to support.

Yay for her!! Fuck my body!

It can stop now.

Wait, What?

I’ve hit the anxiety chaos point again. The one where I am so stressed out and anxious that I cannot remember a damn thing.

I forgot to take my pain meds this am.

I’m grateful to my amazing boyfriend who went out of his way to deliver them to me.

Because I haven’t even told y’all yet: PC and I are moving in together.

Yes I should be excited and squealing like a school girl.

But my anxiety and Ed’s voice are on repeat: he’s going to see the real you and bail, you’re too fat to be loved [ive gained a lot of weight lately], he’s going to back out, it’s all a delusion, I’m trapped in another mental reality or dream, I haven’t coped with this yet, wtf omg change.

Ya I need to cope with the change.

The big change.

The one I told my therapy team. About my anorexia.

Ya if I can break this cycle I’m sure I’ll have positive steps forward. Less walls!

I don’t think. Wait. Nope. I’m not ready to let go of anorexia.

I’m way too fat. Like pushing 250 again at least. Ya go ahead and vomit because I have been. It’s horrendous.

Where does it come from?! I’m not even fucking eating!! I’m too stressed out and anxious to eat! Last week I was so stressed out by a situation I was vomitting twice a day!! HOW DOES THAT MAKE ME GAIN WEIGHT?!?! Someone fucking clue me in!!

And then now I’m forgetting shit.

I need a trip. Psychotic. Drug. Anything to escape because reality blows.

People are cruel and ruthless; always taking their personal issues out on me like I’m their little punching bag.

Mindfulness says live in the moment and that is all I’m trying to do. Even if it is biting me in the ass.

Je Déteste 

Tomorrow is my birthday.

I hate my birthday.

It is an utter reminder how much of a failure I am.

How I haven’t accomplished the things I expected to since my last birthday. And this is a major one which society keeps reminding me how I haven’t met a lot of things.

I’m not married. I’m not in my dream / trained for job. I don’t have my Masters yet. I don’t have kids [mixed feelings]. I live with my parents. I don’t get to do what I want when I want to.

I’m still really really fat.

I have ballooned up in the last few weeks.

The worst thing ever before a birthday.

I hate birthdays because it’s all about food. And I just got back from flying across the country to the south to see some family. Where it’s all about the food. Deep fat fried food.

Still psychologically coping from being surrounded by it. My mother started following me into bathrooms at one point.

But I hate my birthday because people forget it. It’s in June. People are graduating, out for summer, on vacation, etc. they are self absorbed.

While I go out of my way to ensure others aren’t forgotten, I am.

Facebook? Horrible slap in the face. 1,000+ friends and only 5 manage to post “hbd”?

Talk about invalidating me and my existence!!

Hence why over the years I’ve pulled away. And each year, my therapists tell me to avoid Facebook for at least a few days after my birthday. To emotionally take care of my self first and focus on the self care–not others.

Last year I made the mistake and went on. I was destroyed by family. No cards. No calls. No texts. You would think I’m some raging bitch who beats kittens.

No, I’m the anorexic who is self sacrificing, takes shit from others, tolerates the invalidation, and attracts toxic relationships.

I have already heard from my toxic ex boyfriends who are probably looking for my sex because they know I’m a good bang. They always show up around my birthday. Never fails.

The difference this year is I have PC who is amazing. And he has given me a great one. We found a place together! Of course while I was across the country and stressed out, but I am leaving my toxic home!!

But even with his greatness, it still can’t outweigh all the rejection from everyone else I know is coming.

I feel constantly sick in the stomach; ready to vomit. I have been so stressed out I am having diarrhea. I am physically exhausted.

Je déteste mon anniversaire. Je déteste les personnes. Je déteste la société.