I haven't weighed myself for a good number of days now. I can't be sure how many to be honest with you. Maybe a week? Its like I am in the fog of a scale detox.
I am not supposed to be weighing myself at all. As of last summer my work with a therapist had led to that decision. I was starting to become too similar to the old anorexic me and my weight loss rate was decreasing so I was becoming less thrilled with my weigh-ins and that was triggering more obsessions. So I asked my husband to hide the scale. And guess what? I found the damn thing a few weeks later. I will creep to its hiding spot. Retrieve it. Weigh myself. And put it back. I have weighed myself less since last summer however it is still destructive, too much and that number has way (pun intended) too much meaning attached to it in my diseased food addict brain. To top it off there are, oddly enough, numerous scales in bathrooms at work. Not sure why, I really wish they weren't there. Each one is going to state a different number to top it off based on wonky haphazard calibration.
I would be okay with weighing myself once a month for accountability's sake as a means of a check-in. The problem is that I can't seem to stick to that. And the thought that I just wouldn't ever weigh myself again feels - so scary. So, so, so scary. Its like losing a friend that you feel like you can't be friends with anymore. You know its the right thing but you can come up with many good reasons to stay friends.
So I am coming out of some weeks of ugly eating that I am not proud of. I am feeling shame about how I did so great last year losing this weight, but yet I have seemingly gained a few of those pounds back. I can't be sure but seeing and feeling a renewed muffin top in my jeans that a few months ago were actually loose can't be a good sign. This shame is starting to consume me and I am feeling more depression the last few weeks than I have for a long time. I am weighed down (puns are usually intended here) by the guilt of what I am carrying around. I have been keeping up appearances with my loved ones that I am maintaining my weight loss and yes all is well over here in food land. Then I know and realize that I am lying as I am struggling with food and so then more guilt piles on.
As I wrap up this afternoon and head into the evening, I have fear. Between now and when I go to bed is always my worst time of day. I feel a piece of shame lifted knowing that somewhere I have admitted that even me has fallen off the wagon. I eat healthy enough. I have a decent yoga practice that I'm cultivating. My family and I are working on our relationships. But yet - I have binged too many times recently for me to feel very good about myself. I am not sure which wagon I want to climb back on. It seems like most of what I've tried aren't long-term solutions or even if they were meant to be - they haven't turned out to be as such for me. Then I get instantly the uniqueness complex as is common for addicts of all types: "I am so unique that nothing will work for me". And I know that's rubbish and simply not true. I think we all have to investigate numerous options and protocols as it were and compile the right blend of what is going to work for us. And revise as time goes on. I think I had something that worked for me last year. I now have enough evidence that its no longer working and so its time to create a new recipe ... again, pun intended.
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