Wednesday, May 4, 2011

february 20, 2010

i saw my nutritionist today and she wasn't happy with me.

my weight was down * pounds, and although she seemed to understand why, i don't.

i feel like all i'm doing is eating, and that's even with me shaving off a few servings of carbs and fat here and there. i didn't think it would hurt anything to miss a serving or two.

she asked me to tell her what i've been eating each day. i went through the past couple of days intakes and told her that although i've been skipping a serving here or there, i feel like i'm doing well overall, and i feel like i have gained weight.

apparently i didn't figure things correctly, because she went on to say that its my refusal to eat the amount of carbs and fat i'm supposed to thats keeping me stuck where i am. she mentioned something about going back to treatment if i didn't get back on track. she also reminded me that i'm supposed to be gaining, not even maintaining yet. i felt like a dead horse being shot for the millionth time.

i, for one, would love to go back to treatment. i'm tired of planning each day around food. i'm tired of going to all-out war with myself over whether or not i'm going to eat each meal and snack. i'm tired of calculating grams of carbs, fat and protein and figuring the lowest calorie ways possible to technically follow my meal-plan.

it was so much easier at magnolia creek. yes- they stuffed our faces with things i didn't necessarily find comfortable to eat- but at least there were no choices or decisions involved with any of it. the first time i tried hiding a bag of chips at the creek became the last about five minutes later when i was caught. i knew i was going to have to consume the calories one way or another, and so i did it. i didn't have to feel guilty or gross or self-indulgent because i was being forced. i had the benefits of taking care of myself without it being my fault.

all of this to say, it'd be easier than easy to keep on the path i'm going and to nuzzle myself back into the safety of the creek.

but then i think about my dad. i think about the pain that seeped from the lines in his face when he came to magnolia creek. i think about the time he picked me up at the airport for thanksgiving break and how scared he looked as he asked if i'd been eating. i think about the surprise new york trip we went on my freshman year and the time he came home early from the masters so he could be there for my indian princess camping trip. i think about his shiny eyes staring at me through the car window when we parted ways at the gas station down the road from the creek last month and the large dent in his bank account all thanks to the cost of treating my disorder.

i can't go back to magnolia creek.

i'm going to have to do this right here and right now. and if that means eating a few extra carbs, so be it.

i cannot and will not do it for myself. but today, i can do it for my dad.



1 comment:

  1. Gave me chills; I have nearly this exact same entry written in my recovery journal (though maybe not as eloquently written as yours).