Back and Forth, Up and Down

Since I've last posted, I've had a baby.  A beautiful, delicious, little one joined my life -- I'll call him Gentleman. 

I am grateful.  Humbled.  In love.

I am also human. 

I struggle with how I look, with how I feel.  The jiggly bits around my stomach and all the loose skin, rumpled up like bread dough that sat exposed to air for too long.  The thighs and ass with dimples, more than can be counted, can be seen through my pants.

My love for my Lovebug (child #1), has kept me from relapsing more times than I can count.  It has kept me up.  I'm guessing I'll have the same story to tell a year from now in regards to Gentleman.

But weird things happen postpartum. Emotions and feelings and general craziness.  What was once up gets lost.  Differentiating between up and down is a struggle.  You squint and turn your head and shrug your shoulders for a view of Direction Up.  Sometimes you leave befuddled, stumbling, but hopefully not headed Direction Down. Sometimes you blindly hope that as you feel your way, step by step through the dark, you will begin to see Up. 

I feel that way right now.  I wouldn't be lying if I said that I hate parts of my body right now.  I want to work out.  I want to run.  I want to purge.  I want to run hills until I puke.  I want to buy diet pills and laxatives and only eat safe foods. 

We cannot give ourselves only what we want.  I cannot give myself only what I want.  I cannot be driven by selfishness. 

But yet, I'm so disgusted with my weight.  I want it gone NOW and I know how I can lose it quickly. 

The majority of the time, I am making healthy decisions.  But other times I find myself counting calories, doing squats while I brush my teeth and obsessing about food.  All those things can be healthy, but for me, those are obsessive things I do while I'm struggling.
 
After I had Lovebug, I think I struggled with some Postpartum Depression (OK, I know I did) and I got obsessive about my weight loss.  I was too scared to tell anyone, though.  I exercised and weighed and counted calories.  I didn't relapse.  I just controlled everything.

I don't have anyone to talk to.  My husband is so busy right now, I can't stress him out and need to support him.  If you talk to me about it in person, I come across strong, determined, resolute.  It's here where I can be honest and say I have fears, insecurities and doubts.  I have trust issues, so the few people who have known about my anorexia have been slowly cut off.  And most think it's an issue that plagued me years ago.  True and false. 

It is always there.  Sometimes fresh, sometimes stale.

Here I am: day by day, back and forth, up and down, all these thoughts and emotions in my head. 

The weight will come off slowly.  Patience.

Patience.

For now, I lean on my faith, my love for my kids and myself.  I can do this. I have to.
 

Recovered Anorexic and Pregnant

I don't call myself recovered too often.  I normally say 'recovering', but lately, I have felt OK saying recovered.  To no one else, only in my own head does those words come about.  Oh, and of course, here.  To you.

I'm pregnant, eating normally, not exercising excessively, not purging in any form and I generally don't battle every bite of food.  I don't think obsessively about how I will lose weight here or change this about myself. 

Maybe time does heal.

Do I like the way my body looks?  Not really.  Except for the precious baby that grows in my belly, I'm not super appreciative of my form.  But I don't hate it either.

I feel the need to exercise, to lose weight, the get toned, but I know that time isn't now. 

I'll have time for that in the future.  Right now, I need to continue being a recovered anorexic, pregnant and a happy mother. 

Purging and Pregnant (again)

I'm pregnant and I'm not happy with my weight gain.  I have no support.  My first pregnancy, I was fresh into recovery so I had quite a bit of encouragement, mostly from my husband. 

But people think I'm 'better' now.  Just because I'm pregnant for the second time. 

The truth is, this is the hardest part.  I'm really gaining weight and I'm freaking out.  I'm pretty depressed about it and have a hard time even getting up sometimes because I can't stand the sight of my body. 

I mentioned it to my midwife today and she was aware of it all because my history with anorexia was in my medical files.  She was nice about it and asked me if I'm using laxatives or binging and purging. 

How do you answer that?  I actually answered honestly.  Fuck.  I'm not doing that stuff all the time.  I'm not in danger, my baby is safe, right?  I just purge sometimes when things feel out of control. 

And right now, everything is out of control in my marriage.

Speaking of marriage, I just told my husband that I'm struggling and he stormed out of the house.  Thanks? I guess.

I'm gaining a lot of weight and when I asked for support in one of the online due date groups, I was met with lots of  "yes, I'm gaining so much right now! 4 pounds!"  I specifically said I don't want to hear from the people that gain 2 pounds by 20 weeks: I want to hear from others who gain a lot, like I do.  

I need to know I'm going to be OK. And the only person outside voice that can reaffirm that, my husband, just walked out the door.