Of all things, don't falsely accuse me

I am livid right now.  Absolutely fuming.

When my husband got home from work today, we started talking about what we will have for supper. 

He said: I'm really hungry. 
I said: Me too, I've eaten nothing but junk food all day.  

I proceeded to tell him about the crap I ate - two Twix bars, a bag of coconut m&ms, a Milky Way, three pieces of string cheese, alcohol, etc.  He scolded me a bit, so I ate half a bowl of oatmeal and then loaded some graham crackers with peanut butter for a good protein boost.  After all it was 7pm and we still hadn't eaten supper, so I didn't want to overdue it.

It wasn't my intention to eat poorly today.  I just got caught up in the day's activities.

We decided to go on a walk, and as we started I was complaining about my pants being too big because I can't keep weight on right now....and he started grilling me. 

You know why your pants won't stay on?  It's because you're not eating right.  What did you eat today?  How far did you run today?  Why are you doing this?  Are you slipping back into that again?  Don't you think about our child?  You have a baby to take care of!

I retorted back with: NO! No, I'm not!  And when I was anorexic did I EVER eat 2 Twix bars and loads of peanut butter on graham crackers?  No. Obviously not....

And he cut me off.  And still accused me of falling and wouldn't let me explain myself.  My calm, gentle husband who rarely argues got passionate at that moment and wouldn't let me talk.  I'm the fiery one between us, well, OK, we are both pretty passionate about some things, but between the two of us, it's normally me who is blabbing on and won't let him talk.

So, I turned around and left him on the walk by himself. 

I'm not going to spend the whole damn walk listening to you tell me how I'm too thin or not eating enough or making me feel guilty. 

I've always been honest with him in regards to my eating disorder!

While I was walking home, I started have really triggering thoughts, mostly because I was so upset that he didn't believe me.  I identified that I want to control what he believes about me, and in some perverted way, I wanted to restrict myself at that moment.  Or run or something.

Of all things, don't fucking falsely accuse me. 

Don't.  I've worked hard to get here, and I don't ever want to be clumped back in to the mess I was in.

EDITED: Obviously, I was really pissed when I wrote this.  It should be said that my amazing husband came home after the walk, apologized to me and asked me to explain myself.  Then he explained that he was just worried and perhaps overreacted. 

Seriously, I love that man. 

Almost.

I almost purged last night.

Almost.

I went on a date with my husband, ate a lot of yummy food and saw a lame movie.

As we were coming home, we got in a little fight.  It was ridiculous.  I can't even remember what started our disagreement, but soon we were one hundred topics in, digging deep to insult.  I'm sure most couples can relate.  You don't really know how or why you got there, but you're in a mess suddenly.

When we got home I was upset and stressed and my tummy was full.

In order to have control over a situation in which I felt I had no or very little control, I thought long and hard about purging. 

My thoughts went round and round for two hours in this repeptitive cycle:

I don't like feeling overly full.
I don't like fighting.
I don't like our date night being a fail.
I don't like feeling out of control.
I don't like being so fat.
What can I do to remedy this?
I have to deal with this.
I have to get rid of what started all this.
I must purge.
I hate purging.
I can't go back to that.

But I hate being so full... Repeat cycle.


Thank God, I didn't do it.   It's been 15 months since I've purged.

I was fasting

Last week I was part of a group that had decided to take a day and fast.  I knew this day was coming but I was undecided as to if I would participate in the fast.

The day before the fast, I decided I would do it.  My intentions were mixed.  I knew I'd see a smaller number on the scale, I knew I'd like the feeling of being empty, but I also knew I wanted to join in this group effort of prayer and fasting.

By 11am, I had broke my fast. 

It's not that I was too weak or that I couldn't do it. 

I could do it. 

And that's what scared me.

I found myself irritable, crabby and battling thoughts of the past. 

"You should go on a walk to burn more calories", "keep moving to burn more calories", "you could do this for days", "empty feels so good".

What good is it to fast, for a specific spiritual purpose, when the only thought that consumes you is weight loss? 

That's why I ate a large bagel, smothered in strawberry cream cheese. 

I prayed about it and felt at peace.  I continued to pray throughout the day with the group of people I was with, even though I didn't tell them the real reason I was no longer fasting.  I said it was because I'm breastfeeding, which was partly the truth. 

You know what though?  The number on my scale stayed the same, the old thoughts were gone, and I felt like I accomplished something really big: I said no.

The Pull

I think the pull may always be there.  To feel more bones, to see a smaller number, to skip a meal, to run a little more, to fit into smaller pants.

But with that pull comes coldness, shame, embarrassment, sickness, pain, discomfort, loss of control, loss of friendship...

...loss of life.

It's a choice that has to be made everyday, every hour, every minute in recovery as we go with the ebb and flow of life.

What are you choosing today?