Today has been rough. Real rough. Had to get labwork done and felt horrible after. Problem was I couldn’t eat because spent lunch hour getting the labwork done. So I started getting shaky and dizzy, but ED made me feel too ashamed to ask for a break to go grab something to eat. So I stayed…miserable…and honestly putting myself in risk of passing out.
I left my internship (which led to a lot of eye-opening experiences I will go into later) and it was time to workout. Well, to finish my workout. Today was the first time I allowed myself to split up my workout even though that terrified me. And ED got right in my ear. He tried to convince me to workout more…and honestly I agreed with him I should. That I should do 45 mins instead of 35 mins since all I had done that morning was a video. I didn’t have the energy to argue with ED…but I also have commited this month of recovery to my dad…and I didn’t have the heart to let his memory fade. So I agreed with ED…but still only did 35 mins.
I wish I could tell you right now that I feel great about that decision…or the recovery decisions that came after. Like adding food to make up for some that spilled. Eating dinner earlier even though not hungry. Choosing foods I want, not foods that are safe. Choosing to, even though I didn’t go poo today (sorry if TMI), not to take a laxative. To let my body just be a body. To not let the fear of what the scale will say tomorrow drive me today.
But reality is I don’t. I sit here terrified. Still debating if I will avoid the laxative. Still wanting to