Immense guilt and not coping in the slightest; COVID-19 and its related impacts (ft. a new LW body check).
I can't articulate anything properly anymore.
That's why, dear blog, I haven't updated you in a number of days.
But I need to hold myself accountable somehow.
I feel stupid and horrendously guilty for engaging in my ED and for even thinking this way during the current global crisis, and for still being so caught up in my weight, measurements and diet habits. I wish I wasn't like this.
But eating disorders don't just magically disappear the moment a global pandemic rocks up on your doorstep.
I feel guilty for eating.
In more ways than one.
and the amount I've been eating is erratic and problematic. Some days it's nothing, other days its binge fucking central.
I reached my lowest ever weight on Sunday (45.9kg).
Last night I weighed myself.
I'd put on almost 4kg in a few short days.
I'm not okay with this.
One big stress for me at the moment is that I've been advised to self isolate due to being immunocompromised.
I can't stay at home all day.
I can't even sit still and watch tv for more than 10 minutes at a time.
I've always been that way.
Even when I wasn't well enough to work or study, I'd still spend most of the day out of the house, because I can't sit alone with my thoughts.
That and I'm terrified that if I spend time at home, I'll eat all of the food that's in the kitchen.
So now I'm stuck at home with that temptation, and it's not going well.
I need to lose weight. I can't cope with this.
There was considerable stress with my university courses having mandatory physical attendance and due to having a shit immune system, I've been risking my health for my grades. I'm thankful and very grateful, even privileged to have my courses move online so I can continue my degree, but because I'm not suited to an online learning style. I can't concentrate and I've gotten nothing done in three days.
I'm a useless, ungrateful fat fucking pig.
Food scarcity and access to the only foods I feel safe eating is becoming a problem; a grey area shrouded in uncertainty. I struggle with brand variation and the number of things I'm okay with eating is very limited and inflexible as it is. Already I'm struggling to find my safe foods as they aren't easily available, and I'm not able to go and buy my own groceries anymore; an accessibility issue which is making things 100x worse. I feel out of control and I'm not handling it.
I feel guilty for eating anything at all.
My brain is using this as an excuse to restrict.
But for some fucking unknown reason my brain is convinced I'll never be able to eat my safe foods again so I binge on them. So despite availability stress, quantity wise I eat too fucking much.
This has to stop.
I can't keep eating.
I don't deserve it.
I've never felt more miserable and alone.
The anorexia is objectively getting worse according to my treatment team (which I barely see and I struggle to believe anyway), but none of them are doing anything about it despite what they are saying, and therefore aren't offering me any help or intervention right now.
And despite how much I'm emotionally struggling I'm too ashamed to ask because if they aren't offering it, obviously I'm fine and not worthy of more specialised help/IP. I don't even look underweight, and I definitely don't need refeeding.
Ah, the good old internal logic vs fallacy argument. It keeps coming back to this. I know the logic but can't apply it, nor see what they apparently do.
I took a body check photo on Sunday, but I'm still effing huge. Usually I put more time and effort into taking a body check photo (especially regarding lighting and angles etc), but I'm so big that no matter what angle I could have posed in to try and look small, I'm still just a fat as the photo shows.
God, I sound like a walking fucking contradiction.
I shouldn't complain when so many people have it far worse than me.
Covid-19 is something we haven't seen the worst of yet. Not here anyway.
If I stop eating at least there will be more food for others.
Even if I did feel brave enough to seek treatment, they wouldn't take me or offer me help because I'm not dying. I'm not a priority.
I'm too fat to need treatment in a normal situation, let alone now when the healthcare system is under so much stress.
They won't treat me, I'm not sick enough to need help anyhow.
My problems are just comprised of trivial bullshittery and complaining.
People are dying.
There are bigger issues than my food woes.
I should just shut the fuck up.