Making Choices

Yesterday I saw Mina.

She said that by switching jobs I was making a major change.  But that’s an outside change.  I need to work on the inside changes.  Those are the tough ones.

She also said I am so unemotional when I talk about my eating disorder.  I don’t get sad, I don’t cry.  It’s all very matter of fact.  She has said this to me numerous times.

So when we met yesterday I told her that I have been giving it some thought.  Why am I so emotionally detached to something that occupies so much of my life?

Because it’s what I know.

Because it’s what I’m familiar with.

Because it’s become my way of life.

So to me, it is very matter of fact.  Don’t get me wrong.  I certainly don’t think it’s normal or a desirable lifestyle, it’s just what I have gotten accustomed to.

I was watching a documentary the other night about a girl who was bulimic.  Basically she ate all day and vomited after every meal.  She had to give up her job and her friends because she said they got in the way of her bulimia.

She agreed to finally get some help after her very desperate mother begged her.  They saw a doctor who basically said that she was on deaths door.  Give it up or die.  So, she gave recovery a try.  She would eat, not huge quantities and avoid purging after every meal.  She was successful for a couple of weeks.

When she went back to the doctor and found out that she had put on close to 10lbs, her response was “I don’t care anymore.  I would rather be dead than fat”.

I would rather be dead than fat?!?!?  Imagine that.  Someone so ill that they would rather be dead than have to deal with eating.  Enjoying food.  Being with friends and going out for brunch.  Dead.  She would rather be dead.

Why does this have to be a choice.  Why fat or dead?

Why not just happy?

The one valuable thing I gained from my very brief stay at Toronto General Hospital is that we all have a set point weight.  We can fight it all we want, but our body is designed to be a certain weight.  Just like my body is designed to have straight hair, I am designed to have yellowish/greenish eyes, I’m suppose to be 5″5 and my set point weight should be around 120ish.  You can (try to) modify things, but there are genetics that tell us different.

When I wasn’t pregnant or engaging in ED behaviours my weight was stable.  It fluctuated a bit as does everyone’s, but in true fashion, my set point weight was set, and I was quite happy with it.

So, I can continue to waste time fighting it, but sooner rather than later I just have to accept it and be okay with it.  And why shouldn’t I?

It shouldn’t be a choice.  It should just be matter of fact.


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