I wish I could say that the eating and body image has improved. It is hard to admit, but it has only worsened. The struggle has continued over the past 3 years. I am never satisfied and I feel more out of control than ever! It has been a constant struggle over the past 10 years, but nothing compared to what it is now. Up until the past 3 years there has always been food issues, but they come and go. I have tried every diet out there from counting calories, weight watchers, diet pills, diet doctors, calorie counting, not eating after 5:00pm, etc. I have always stopped mid way with these due to driving myself crazy. Numbers are a huge focus of mine so things like calorie counting and weight watchers drove me insane. I would count and calculate numbers and obsess over how many calories or how many points do I have left. Did I calculate things right? I can't find the calories on a certain food, so I don't really know how to calculate accurately. I would count in my head during the day and at night. I never wanted to reach to the high numbers so then I would restrict, which then failed the endeavor.
So three years ago everything changed. I was tired of my weight and what I looked like in the mirror. I am a determined person, so when I told myself I was going to lose weight, I took it seriously. At first I wanted to do things the healthy way so I began to run. I would run 3 times a week and told myself no more than 3 miles at one time. I didn't want to discourage myself with having a huge expectation for a distance. This only worked for about a week. Soon 3 miles was not good enough, then 4, then 5, then 6... Running 3 times a week was not longer an option. I began to run daily anywhere from 6 - 10 miles and I would never run less than an hour. The weight began to drop. Some people became concerned but I told them I was training for a half marathon so I had to keep increasing my mileage and be consistent. I had absolutely no intention of running a half marathon. Believe it or not I HATE running! But my mind had me so trapped. Along with the running my food intake lessened. I would hide food and if I was out to eat with people and just dispose of it later. I would have kept the running up but I had a bad knee injury which ended my running. I struggled with this for some time, but part of me was relieved. I didn't have to run anymore.
Work and relationships became major stressors. I am a person that when it comes to anxiety can not eat. I dropped even more weight at this time. By this time I had dropped 25 pounds. I had absolutely no appetite. I hated the anxiety, but enjoyed the physical results of it. Once I started to feel better I was afraid of gaining the weight back. Weighing myself became a ritual. I weighed myself at least 5 times a day. This would let me know exactly what I could eat or couldn't eat. Restricting or throwing up helped me maintain and continue to lose weight.
I have weighed myself daily for over a year and a half. It is the first thing I think about in the morning. It controls my day. The only times that I have not weighed myself were the days that I was hospitalized. My scale goes with me everywhere. I take it on vacations with me or anywhere that I know I will not be home the next day. Through a lot of work I have cut down on weighing myself. I still weigh myself daily, but I only have to do it once or twice, usually once. By 2013 I had dropped more weight, totaling 30 pounds over a year and a half. At one point during hospitalization I was put on one of those types of ensure drinks to make sure I was getting enough calorie intake. I hated this and didn't allow it to last more than a few days. Knowing the amount of calories in that bottle freaked me the hell out.

I have much more insight into my eating problems now. I try not to even exercise much because I know I will become out of control with number and time spent at the gym. If I do go I go with a friend who will not spend more than an hour there. I do not try to even exercise alone. I know that I need to be eating daily and have found foods that I am okay with eating. I know that my scale is only a number and that I have to eat. Although I have insight it is a constant battle. The mirror and my scale keep me in bondage. I look in the mirror daily and am constantly overwhelmed and disgusted. I pick apart every flaw and can find fault in every part of my body. I step on my scale and am incredibly angered by any numbers that I don't like. I began to stress over food. I would not go out to eat with anyone, which isolated me from friends. If I was somewhere with food my anxiety shot through the roof.
I had my own meal plan that I stuck too. My foods consisted of yogurt, egg whites, oatmeal, tuna, coffee, fruit, rice cakes, and popsicles. But I would never eat more than 3 or 4 of these items in a day. I got on the scale one day and freaked out with the number. I felt crazy! I became so delusional about my scale. I wasn't sure if it was working correctly. I couldn't believe the number I saw. I went and bought another scale and borrowed another from my friend. I used all three multiple times to see if the numbers changed or if my scale had been accurate. I have times where I feel so stressed about food that whatever I have in the pantry or refrigerator I gather up and throw away. I clear everything out and take it immediately to the dumpster before I have a chance to change my mind. I felt like I had been getting a bit better prior to this and had at least kept a consistent weight that I wasn't freaking out about.
I hate going to a grocery store. I rarely go. I can count on one hand the times I have been to a grocery store in 1 year. It is too overwhelming to walk down aisles stocked with food, food that looks good but I am too scared to eat. I become paranoid of what others think about my weight. I think at times that people give me food intentionally to make me fat. I do love sweets and have a hard time turning them down at times. Friends know I love things like candy and red velvet cake. If one of them brings over a sweet for me or asks to go out for dessert at a restaurant, I think they are trying to make me eat, that they want to make me fat. I realize this is completely delusional, but at times I truly believe this.
Since this scale incident the restricting has become worse. I tend to eat only fruit and popsicles. I was able to drop those few pounds that I had gained over the past 2 weeks. I am adding again slowly to my intake. I know I have to eat. I hadn't made myself throw up in a long long time, but this past month it has occurred 3 times. This only happens when I feel absolutely out of control and allow myself to eat cake or pasta. I am pretty good at controlling what I eat, but then I break at times. These breaks only last for about 1 meal and then things go back to normal. Or what normal is to me.
I want badly to be free from this. I don't want to waste more time and life consumed by the number on a scale but I don't know how to stop. I am tired of telling people that I am not going to eat something because: "I don't like butter," "I don't like fried foods," "I don't like cheese," "I don't like ice cream," "I don't like mayonnaise," etc; when I love these foods. I haven't eaten these in years. They terrify me. The only thing that has come out of this mess is that I have royally fucked up my health. My metabolism is shot. If I do eat normally I gain weight in an instant. I have had extensive dental problems. I have digestive problems and my intestines do not function normally. I have a loss in bone mass. I have a vitamin deficiency. None if this has been worth it. Even though I am at the lowest weight I have been in since 6th grade, I am not happy. I feel absolutely out of control!
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