comediensfolly-blog

[comediensfolly-blog]

[comediensfolly-blog]

About Last Night

I started my treatment in October 2018. It is now May 2019. That is 7 months. 7 months of working to ignore my anxieties about food and weight gain. 7 months of fighting the urge to self harm. 7 months of telling the weird thoughts of suicide to shut the fuck up. And yet. Last night after my shower I stood in my bra and underwear in front of the mirror for ages with negativity flooding through my brain. I have done a good job of eating the past few months. I have done a great job. And now I am fat. So congrats therapists and doctors, is this what you wanted? I know that isn’t really fair. They wanted me to not think about my weight. To eat enough to survive and to be happy with whatever my body looks like. But god damn is that hard. My best friend’s wedding is in a couple months and I am terrified that I am not going to be able to find a dress that fits me right. I am scared that when it is finally warm enough to go to the beach I will not be able to take my shirt off and show my stomach. I am scared that I am never going to be able to workout in a sports bra because my stomach just doesn’t look like K’s. Btw K is a girl at my gym who has an idyllic crossfitter’s body. That’s part of the problem I think. I am in dual worlds. On the one hand, acting. Actors are small and thin. Unless they are representing the plus size gals, in which case they are much bigger. I am neither of these groups. I am tall but not thin and I am muscular but not defined. I am nothing that they want on screen and that makes me want to die (maybe or maybe not literally, still not sure). On the other hand, I am a crossfit coach. I am a crossfit athlete. I have been doing this for years. I do not have K’s body even though we started at the same time and we eat about the same. I do not have G’s body even though we started about the same time and she eats way more than me. I have a body that does not belong anywhere. It does not fit anywhere. And I hate it. 

But I am supposed to be working on this. R wanted to go out to eat last night, so we did. Despite the terrible time in front of the mirror I went out with him and we had italian food. We had fried squid (it was gf! That never happens!) and I had gf pasta in with clam sauce. I didn’t finish it, but I ate. That is good progress. 7 months ago I would not have been able to do that. The problem is, I want the food. I want it bad. I just don’t want to be fat. I eat well. I eat enough. I eat my fruits and vegetables. I drink my water. I eat enough protein and fiber. I don’t eat too much processed stuff. And I still look like a fucking trash can. I just want to not care. I want to not care about my body and what I look like. But I don’t know how to be a part of the film industry without caring. What happens when I am 5x the size of the actress next to me? What happens when I take up too much space so they don’t want me? What happens when I can’t do what I want to do because I am just too big? Fuck man. I’m trying. But it’s hard and I am tired. I am tired of remembering to take my meds every day. I am tired of not being able to poop cause I haven’t treated my body right for 10 years. I am tired of all of it. Recovery is fucking exhausting.

#ed #edawareness #eatingdisorder #tw #anorexia tw #fuckthescale #recovery #depression #anxiety #therapy #comediensfolly