Saturday, March 3, 2012

Ana is calling me back... WTF, stupid brain...

I know it's been quite a while since my last post. Now, as I reread the last few posts that I made, I realize that I've been on more of a roller coaster than I have let anyone know.

Thing is... YOU guys... You wonderful, beautiful beings with whom I share so much... YOU were some of the best friends I have ever had. And we've never even met.

I am now four months postpartum. My newest daughter is the perfected image of myself and my fiancee. She makes me smile more than I ever have in my entire life.

And yet... I'm bothered. My disorder has been creeping in, and not slowly.

I gained about 60 pounds with this pregnancy. That put me, on delivery day, at 198 pounds. Granted, I was lower than what I should have been when I became pregnant, but that is of no consequence at the moment. I am simply devastated with the way I let myself eat throughout those nine months. I gave in. I decided to consume everything that the life inside of me needed... and more.

And now? Four months after giving birth, I am still only 30 pounds lighter. Over the past three weeks, I have given in to my disorder full-force. I have let it take me over once again. I have reach a point at which I no longer wish to eat, even when hunger is cramping my insides. I just don't want it. A fridge full of food and I don't want a single thing.

I grow dizzy and remember that I am a stay at home mom, breastfeeding an infant and supporting the constantly growing imagination of a 5-year-old. I must be PRESENT for them.

The wake-up call came earlier this week, when I realized that, as I attempted to nurse my 4-month-old, my milk supply was drastically reduced. Why? I'm sure you can guess. That's right. When you don't eat, your body stops doing things it would normally do on a normal diet. Fuck.

In light of this discovery,I've worked on re-normalizing my diet... AGAIN. I try to drink more water and eat even when I'm not hungry. I get drunk nearly every night now (for a number of reasons) and this allows me to eat dinner without gut-wrenching guilt and dismay.

My fiancee took away my scale. He said he's only helping, and I know this to be true. I will henceforth try my hardest to judge my success based on the way my clothes do or do not fit. This will be difficult, but after a year of no scale (as ordered by my ED therapist), I think I can do it without going too crazy.

I miss you all, my beauties, and I hope your lives are treating you as well as can be expected.

Stay lovely...

~P.D.

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