I really felt absolutely disgusting. I hated everything inside and out, but mostly inside. I had an AMAZING weekend full of healthy tasty noms and lots of exercise, but sunday night - I don’t know…it came crashing down when I looked at some stuff. =/
I had a good cry with my friend Saturday night, and finally told her a lot of what I’ve needed to tell her since sophomore year, and she told me basically what I know - that I should see someone. A psychologist or psychiatrist, but she doesn’t think the school guidance counselors will cut it. Too bad - when my doctor recommended I see someone when I didn’t have my period, my mom decided this was “just a phase.”
I’m back at a healthy weight. I’m eating healthy, exercising, and working REALLY hard to be fit and healthy, but I’m still struggling so much, and there are days where I want to curl up and go to sleep forever instead of dealing with planning meals so I don’t eat too little/much. It’s like I would’ve been diagnosed, and had to recover, but I had to deal with recovery by myself.
Meals and eating SHOULD NOT be a stressor for me, and yet they are. And everytime I feel cast away or like I failed or second best everything hits me and I don’t eat properly. I fight with my mind so much, and I’m working REALLY hard to like what I see in the mirror, but at the same time keep up a healthy lifestyle with good vegetarian options and exercise.
Then why do I still break down? I cried for about three days and almost freaked in Psychology AND English class. =/ I want to see someone so bad, but it’ll be even more difficult now that I’m at a healthy weight. My mom wouldn’t even let me see someone when I was twenty pounds lighter and exercising about five times a day while eating two small meals, because she argued it was “just a phase.” What’ll she do if I ask now that I’m at a healthy weight, and come off as such a great healthy role model?
And it just hurts so much because I see my friend going through the same thing, and her family supports her so much. I’m NOT bitter over this, and I’m so happy she’s dealing with this with all the help she can get, but… Why does my mom ignore it?