Site Notes: Acceptance
I knew that when this time came it was going to be difficult. After so many months, my response could go in so many different directions. I could stay positive and fight off the negative thoughts and anxiety, or I could fall into the harmful acts that I’ve taken up in the past.
My last post about anxiety about gaining weight was not all that positive. It didn’t get any better as I got closer and closer to coming home. The thought of finding out how I had lost control of my body was terrifying to me. I was so so so afraid of what I was going to see on the scale. What would it say? What would that say about me?
I tried to give myself a few days before I stepped on the scale after getting off the plane at LAX, knowing that all the sickness I had endured (I was horrifically sick the last three days I was in Cuzco, as in I couldn’t get out of bed and had to go on antibiotics) and the exhaustion of travel would have an effect on my body. My anxiety only let me wait 3 days before I gave in and stepped on the scale.
I anticipated seeing a big difference; I knew there had to be with the way my clothes were no longer as loose or comfy as they used to be. I knew things would be different from when I left, but how much was beyond me. It took me three tries to look at the number. Every time I got the courage to look at the number it had disappeared as I stood there. By the third time I was able to look and simply became numb. There was no knee jerk reaction to negativity or staying positive; just numbness.
I had gained ten pounds. Ten pounds. To me that seemed almost impossible, but then in reality all possible. I simply didn’t know what to think. I was almost accepting of it for a second, taking into account what I had been through in the past three months in Peru, but then wasn’t when my mind switched everything around and made me think about how I had lost control of my body, my weight, the one thing I had always been able to control and be good at.
It took a few days to sink in. But when it did, it wasn’t pretty. My poor family, friends and especially Whit took the brunt of it. I was stand offish, completely moody, angry, and flat out frustrated. I wanted this weight to go away in an instant, but knew in my mind, and reality, that obviously that wasn’t going to happen. I was going to have to work hard to get it to come off or at least tone up, but at the same time I was so angry that it happened in the first place that I couldn’t get myself to work out.
It’s been three weeks since I got home, and everyday has gotten better. Ok, the first two weeks were really hard and frustrating, but after finally digging deep into myself and realizing that recovery from my past ED behaviours were more important, it got easier. I now don’t wake up everyday wondering if my pants are going to be tight and hating it, but instead know that they will be and that if I work hard, that they will become comfortable again. There is no shame in them being tight anyhow, it just means that my body has changed. If anything, everyone has told me that I now fill out these clothes instead of them not fitting me properly.
These past three weeks have been a journey for sure, and will continue to be as my body changes and I adjust to whatever direction it decides to go. I have taken up an adequate workout regime and have kept it in check to make sure I don’t go overboard, along with adjusting my food intake to healthier eating than what I had while I was in the jungle and Cuzco. I have taken hold of the support of my family and friends to get me through the hard times and make sure that I don’t fall back into harmful eating behaviours.
Besides, I have too much birding to look forward to to dwell over this. I wish I were back doing this instead!!!