I find myself in the position of being unable to help myself. It’s strange because usually I would struggle against the idea of being helpless and yet I can’t find the spirit to struggle against this.
The situation is that, despite my continued low caloric eating and mega exercising, I have hit a weight plateau 4 lbs away from my first weight goal which leaves me still in the overweight category. I have read that to fix this plateau issue, I should actually increase my calories because my metabolism has now slowed down to adapt to how little I’m giving it to work with. It was exactly what my therapist said would happen, I had hoped however that this would not happen until after I had lost more weight.
After reading that I needed to increase my calories to throw my metabolism off I decided that I would increase my calories today by 200 over the maximum I allow myself. And then…I couldn’t do it. I found myself stuck…trapped by my obsession with the numbers, my obsession over needing to be punished. This thing is rooted deep it seems and I can’t shake it.
Strangely I find myself feeling emotional as I write this…kind of teary and tight-chested. Weird.
I had an extra therapy session this week and my therapist wanted to know what a healthy weight for a woman my height is. I checked the internet on my phone and the ranges were goofy with some numbers being obviously wrong as the person would cease to exist. What was interesting to me was my reaction to her words. We again said that all of this is a distraction but she wanted a number so that she would know if/when I had crossed a dangerous line in losing weight. My reaction to that mentally, was to think “Ooh that sounds like fun! Dangerous! Yay!”
I figure there’s a lot of blubber that my body can burn through first before and danger zones are even remotely approached.
My other reactions also seem odd but again…I don’t struggle against them. I imagine myself wasting away and I look forward to it. I imagine my heart giving out and I’m almost okay with it. Why is that?
I think that at the moment I’m more bemused at my inability to make myself eat more. It’s like I have no power over my own body anymore. I simply can’t do it, even to lose the weight I want so desperately to lose. Control has now become a lack of control.
And yet…I don’t look “sick”. I’m still overweight by 4 lbs…no one can see any difference in me. But I’m almost obsessed with this image I have of myself turning into bones and it’s not to be seen by anyone. I don’t want anyone to see me or ask questions about me or anything like that. It’s almost for…myself? Maybe I want to look the way I feel inside? That is of course, when I feel anything at all, which is less and less these days. I told my therapist that I don’t really feel emotions unless I have/ or are going to therapy that day. Then it seems that for a little while afterwards, my emotions get turned on. At least the sad, depressing ones.
So…I’m trapped by my own making. All I can hope is that if I keep up what I’m doing, my body will eventually start losing the weight again. I don’t know what else to do. I can’t make myself eat more…I just can’t.