Heeeeey guys. How’s it going? Everyone survive Halloween? Anyone still in a candy coma? Well, lucky you then. I’ve decided I really like fun size Butterfingers. Not full size, only fun size. You get a full bite of chocolate every time.
Anyways, not the purpose of this post… Although, matbe it is. I’ve noticed that I’ve been dragging my feet on posting this week. My therapist even made a comment a few weeks ago about my latest post (which at the time was about pretzel/nutella mental breakdown) not sounding like me. I got a little defensive because I feel like I only ever write like me. But upon further self reflection, he’s totally right. Ugh. I hate when that happens. I also know it’s because as much as I aim to be 100% open and honest on this blog, I’m still human. I still feel like a failure and go through times of not wanting anyone to know how I’m falling under water. (And by water, I mean candy wrappers. In a not funny way.)
I’ve been struggling, y’all. I’ve been binging and I’ve been hiding food. I’ve been starving myself and I’ve been trying (unsuccessfully) to purge it later. My negative self-talk is at an all-time high and I am avoiding the mirror. Surprisingly, the only thing I haven’t slipped back into doing is obsessively weighing myself. Probably because I’m just too terrified to see. But today I’m at the doctor for a regular check up and started crying as I stepped on the scale. I’ve gained 70 pounds in a year. That’s right, seventy.
You say, “But, Tabitha. You’ve had a really hard year! Give yourself some grace!” That’s right, I have had an extremely hard year. A LOT of my years have been really hard years, actually. So, what then? When do I stop and say, “Listen, most of my 31 years have been pretty damn hard. So, I don’t really allow myself that grace.” It’s different, you guys. I know it’s hard for you to understand because you (I would hope) haven’t been 400 pounds once upon a time like I have. I didn’t gradually gain that weight. It came in like Miley riding naked on a wrecking ball when I turned 17 and it took a gastric bypass at 29 to get it to go away. And here I am again, 20 pounds away from 300 and it scares the hell out of me. I gained 70 pounds this year. How much can I gain by this time next year if I don’t snap out of it? This isn’t an extra 20 pounds, my friends. This is an extra person worth of pounds and the mental anguish that comes with it isn’t an easy battle to fight.
I remember when I told people I was going to have the surgery. I actually had a number of people make the comment about possibly gaining it all back. I would get offended and be like, “Do I look like an idiot? Why would I ever do that?” ….well, because the surgery isn’t a quick fix. It isn’t easy and it doesn’t fix the mental battle and the eating disorder. So here I am. I’m flawed and human. In my eyes, I’ve failed and I want to hide that part of me away. But I can’t anymore. It almost seems to do more damage to hide from my audience of like two people who read this.
How can you help? I get asked that a lot by people who love me. Honestly? I wish I knew. I wish I knew what to say this time. Do I tell you to support me by having healthy food out when I come visit? No. 1.) I don’t want that crap. And 2.) It’s not anything I want you to worry about. So, I have zero idea for once. Maybe you have an idea?
This post is annoyingly depressing I feel like. GAH, do you ever get sick of your own voice? I do. I just hear my voice and I’m like, GIRL SHUT UUUUUUPPPP. But that’s that negative self talk I’m telling you about.
I’m going to end this post because I’m sounding more crazy by the minute. SORRY! I’ll try to be funnier next time. Maybe a post about how it took me 2 hours to put together a tiny matchbox garage that my kid got for his bday this past weekend? Maybe you’d like to hear the string of cuss words I used? No? That doesn’t sound like a good time to you? GREAT.
P.S. if you’re new here, it’s what I do. I don’t try to pretend to be anything I’m not. So a lot of times you get a post like this. But with it, I’m hoping that you find comfort in the idea that you aren’t alone.
P.S.S. I’ve been in this waiting room for 45 miiiiiinutes. Gaaaaahhhhh