Number Game

I still have that scale in my house...the one I bought when I wasn't eating because of my meds.

The numbers have gone up. I know that the weight I lost to get to the adult low-point was really because of DEHYDRATION and STARVATION from when my meds were screwed up in May/June and I wasn't eating. I know that the weight I've gained is making up for that. And because of the binging that happened as a result of the starvation.

So what about the higher number? I can't say I like it. But I don't hate myself because of it. In fact, I'm pretty much okay with where it is when I think about the big picture. I've not regained any weight from my gastric bypass. I think I probably weigh a few pounds less than I did a year ago. And given the cycles of binging/purging/restricting I've put myself through, that's good. In fact, that's really, really good.

Do I want to weigh less? Hell, YES! Am I going to starve myself to drop the five pounds I think I NEED to lose? No. No, I'm not. Because this latest cycle has really proven to me that what goes down unnaturally will go up inevitably.

I feel the weight difference. But I don't think anyone notices it. In fact, a few people have said I look healthy. (Maybe it's the tan.) I just feel bloated and my shorts feel snug. But I don't really feel like a hippo. I don't really feel like I'm a fat pig. I think I feel...glad.

Glad that I understand better why I do fall into my ED cycles. Glad that I can stop them before they become extreme. Glad that I finally understand the ramifications of each restriction, binge or purge.

I haven't purged in three weeks. I haven't restricted since that drug interaction thingy. I've binged. But in a different way. I stopped. I acknowledged that what I was shoving in my mouth wasn't going to fill the empty space I was trying to ease. I understood that my eating wasn't nutritional, just emotional. And from that point, the decision to binge or not was truly my own.

So although I "binged" yesterday, I didn't eat through all the food I could have. I didn't vomit. I didn't restrict today. I chalked it up to emotional chaos and thanked the heavens for a calmer day today.

The numbers on the scale, I'm sure, aren't going to slide down anytime soon. I'm not 2-months post-op anymore. I think I have the same 5 pounds most middle-aged women have. More importantly though, I don't feel like the number HAS to change in order for me to be happy. I can take it or leave it. Today anyway. And that's a good distance from where I was a year ago.