Odd

I am happier than I have been in a long time.

I love my job, it brings me inspiration, comfort, joy, excitement and fun.

Things at home are good, with Damien. He is enduringly quietly supportive.

And Sofie is a dream.

So why is my ED at it’s worst?

-I think it’s progressive.

-I’ve been through restriction and calorie counting years ago.

-I’ve been through binging and (almost purging) stage.

-I’ve been through excessive exercise and obsession stage while I yo-yoed between restricting and eating..

-And now I’ve finally progressed to narrower and narrower food choices, more rigid rules, and pure lack of interest in eating. Not eating is not difficult anymore – it’s just the way it is…day in day out.

I’ve finally managed the elusive dream. Losing weight without trying. Not really caring about food, very rarely hungry, and enjoying the simple-ness in eating very little.

I only eat 5 foods unless I manage to trick myself into eating a mouthful of someone else’s leftovers (I think I need to tell the dietician that the approach I need is the "tricking" approach, as I simply don’t think I deserve to have regular meals or a variety of foods.

One of my main 5 foods is low cal soup. Which I enjoy IMMENSELY. I can’t tell you how much I love 3 or 4 cups of hot chicken noodle soup a day. Restriction seems so worth it when it allows you to enjoy something so much.

Chocolate is another of the 5 foods, and even though I don’t eat much of it anymore, it’s kind of my saviour because without it I would probably have ZERO energy and have lost even more weight (and most likely be in hospital again).

I don’t want a life with a variety of food. I hate the complexity of it. I like having 5 foods. Everything is much simpler. I think it sucks that people can choose what colour car they have in their life, or which wing of government they want to support, but they can’t choose to (severely) minimise their food intake (in order to make their life more comfortable) without causing a mammoth amount of fuss.

Fuss. Yes fuss.

My parents have decided that they are going to do everything in their power to force me to eat. They have taken to calling me daily on the telephone to tell me to "fight, BATTLE, and fight!!!!" In the manner of , "We’re going to help you fight this illness, as you’re our daughter, so we will call everyday and make a song and dance of it, if we need to".

We’ve had 3 huge arguments where they’ve told me that they won’t watch from the sideline anymore because they refuse to watch their daughter die (yes they seem certain that is inevitable…gee, thanks for the vote of optimisism in recovery Mum and Dad…)..

My Dad has said he will nag and push as much as he can because otherwise he’d never forgive himself for not trying "hard enough". They threatened if I lose another kilogram (note to self : NEVER tell them how much you weigh again, nor how much weight you’ve lost since leaving hospital), they will committ me (legally to a hospital for treatment, in the involuntary capacity mental illness kind of way) unless I agree to come home and live with them.

Holy shit.

I understand they are desperate (they say they can’t sleep they are so stressed and worried) – I swear they can notice when I’ve lost an ounze, let alone a kilogram…but they NEED to realise I am an adult and they can’t FORCE me to do anything…and that includes recovery. They can’t FORCE me to eat and they can’t FORCE recovery.

They keep saying I won’t let them help, but I don’t think they understand what USEFUL help would be. I have TRIED to tell them. I told them very explicitly that I WANT them in my life, and I want them involved and to interact and talk to me BUT ABOUT TOPICS that DO NOT focus on anorexia/ED. I want to have them over for social visits, I want to show them and talk to them about my teaching at school, and I want to share my life with them (and I’ve got lots to share at the moment), and through doing that they will be helping and be supportive. But IF they continue to ignore everything else in my life and ONLY focus on the ED by nagging and asking what / when/ how much I’ve eaten…it will only serve to ALIENATE me from them and break down my relationship with them.

I told them this but they didn’t seem to ‘get it’.

I told them they are stressing me out by calling everyday and wanting to know if I’ve followed the dietician’s plan and what I’ve eaten, but their only reply is "Well do you know how stressed WE are, as parents??"

I AM doing everything I can. I see a psychiatrist. I see a dietician. I am organising to see a psychologist (has taken time because they normally cost a fortune but I am going to get a referral for a social welfare clinic to be appointed one)…and I am working…contributing to my hobbies, and my family, and I am enjoying what I"m doing. How dare anyone say I’m NOT trying. Just because I haven’t gained weight blah blah, doesn’t mean I’m not doing everything I can.

This illness is not easy. I am very stuck. But I am doing all I can.

Can you believe my Dad wanted to weigh me in front of him and Mum to confirm whether or not he’d force me home / decide to committ me to hospital?

I tried to tell him not to focus on weight and numbers but this seemed an incredulous non-sensical idea to him. Because in his mind surely weight is the only concern or at least the MAJOR concern at present.

Sigh.

I don’t want to go back to hospital. But I can’t manage eating in the way the dietican gave me some guidelines. Thankfully he said that he had no expectations I’d be able to do it and my ability either way would be good feedback on how to progress from that point onwards. I need to tell him we need to trick my mind (subtly) because I cope a lot better eating a bite of leftovers here and there than sitting down and eating a designated "meal for Elizabeth".

But I also don’t want to gain (much weight). I could handle a few kilograms.

But mostly it’s about the controlling of the food intake, MORE than controlling the weight.

I just want to be left alone.