I keep seeing the icon. And I keep thinking to myself, do I even have anything worthy to post related to my anorexia struggle?
Well. Today I do.
I really thought that maybe I was finally at an ok place. I had accepted that I am a lifer with anorexia. My struggle will be constant and never ending. I haven’t been in therapy since it ended several years ago. I have my tool bag of tricks for the hard moments. My relapses were farther apart and if they happened I could catch it soon enough.
So what has happened? How did I get here?
Well. First. I got married. It was not the way I wanted. I FINALLY left the toxic job. It was with a lot of tears and stress induced vomiting and health complications. And with my parents, friends, and fiancé (at that time) begging me to quit. Yea, that bad. I was being bullied and harassed. But I was scared to leave because I was used to those kind of toxic relationships.
Nonetheless, I finally did it. And no joke, within 3 days all my health issues resolved. It showed me how bad that place was for me. I had a secret wedding with just parents because, well, clearly I need health insurance. And PC was so fantastic through the whole thing supporting me.
Then I finally got a job in what I had been trained in. Things were up and up!!
Until they weren’t.
Oh wait, what else is new?
Well that job? I thought I found my fit. Until I realized why my position was open. I was the only licensed personnel and one of my underlings was practicing on my level, illegally. She was threatened by me. Why? Because I wouldn’t let her do illegal shit. I’m clearly a bitch. And she started withholding important information and lying.
So I was out. Again. I finally put to use all those therapy sessions about me having self worth and boundaries.
On to the next job. Where I excelled. And yet another lazy person, in my role on my level, he couldn’t stand it. He comes from a cultural where men dominate women. Women never challenge men. He was uneducated and dangerous to lives. And I refused to play his death game. At one point he was even accused of child abuse. As a licensed professional. No thankssss.
Thankfully I switched to this amazing team. We became a family. I learned. I grew. I thrived.
So obviously it couldn’t last.
As a public service, they lost funding (hint the male coworker was a huge part of it). And my hours were cut. Drastically. I couldn’t survive. Sooo on to the next one.
The new job. It is (was?) an oasis. The staff are cordial and get along. So supportive. Educated (streets and books). Have pride in their jobs. Willing to change for the better. A real dream come true.
And oh what’s that?
COVID19 happened. I was furloughed after a month. Still furloughed.
But earlier this year I also did something that scared me and I’m so proud of. I ran a Disney World 5k.
It was scary as hell.
I trained out here. With a few set backs in training (pretty sure I had COVID in January), I had to battle my obsession.
I was obsessed with having to finish the 5k in 30-45minutes. Like unhealthily so.
And we get to Florida race day and it’s terrential down pour and 40 degrees. SO far out of my comfort zone. I never trained in rain. So I didn’t even run as much as I wanted considering the course was coated in puddles. They had to extend the course due to rerouting for our safety. Needless to say, I ran it and finished it. I ended up running 3.4miles.
And by myself. A total fear. But ✔️ completed.
And during that time I relapsed. Because I was running 2-3 times a week and not losing weight at all. Like seriously?!
Well, more things happened and flash forward to now. The anxiety of not working. The anxiety and agoraphobia. The relapses because of cut off food access.
Yes thank you hoarders. You literally starved me. Be proud of yourselves.
So here I am. Not able to do much exercise except for stretching and indoor free weights. Locked inside due to immunocompromisation from anorexia and asthma. Freaking out often with limited food (and struggling to eat what I need so that I don’t gain weight).
I was hanging in there.
The husband and I talked about planning for pregnancy. Because I have to start at least 6months to a year beforehand. With anorexia, I have to go back into intensive therapy and more frequent doctor appointments before, during, and after pregnancy. Still don’t know how I am choosing to get fat intentionally.
Well I go to my physical for the year. Happy chatters (LOVE my doctor).
“Do you want to do labs? You don’t really need to but insurance covers it.”
Sure why not? I’m concerned about my electrolytes anyways.
Well shit glad I did!
My labs were HORRIBLE!! I know I’m fat (legit like over 250lbs). And I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t lose weight.
Failed my cholesterol panel. Have anemia. And fail my thyroid tests.
What. The. Actual.
For years we kept thinking I had hypothyroidism but tests were fine and chalked it up to the anorexia. Reminder: mine is I stop eating my body stores it all as fat and I gain weight.
I officially have hypothyroidism. Like off the charts so. But it’s bizarre because I don’t have the other symptoms. Just the horrid cholesterol panel, thyroid levels, and the fat.
So naturally I cry. Because just a break, please?!?!
But then a lot more makes sense. Taking the medications will resolve my cholesterol, decrease stress on pancreas, and I will lose weight.
Now there’s my big focus. I will actually lose weight. It turns out I’ve been doing it all right but my body fought me.
Oh and then there’s the because I’m young it could be a tumor on my thyroid or now I’m infertile whole thing.
YAY.
Maybe my original thoughts were right from years ago: I don’t see a life after age 35. Never thought I’d live that long.
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