3 posts tagged ocd
Not rude at all! I think I made it a point not to mention it, because you’re right: I don’t want to label it. And, I guess I do think it’s easier to recover without labels, because the disorder is not you. It is not your soul. You are the thing that is stepping back and recognizing the problem. To me, the best description I could ever give it is a mental prison. I was diagnosed with an “eating disorder not otherwise specified.” However, I believe it was heavily, I mean heavily, OCD-based. There were points when I honestly didn’t care if I was getting thinner or stronger, I just had to reach a certain number or do something in a certain way to rid myself of the anxiety. I had obsessions and compulsions to get things perfect. I am in no way in denial of the disorder I had. I think answering these questions proves that. :)
This is a great question and one I had during the beginning of our relationship. I would think, “He met me when I was ‘model skinny.’ What if he isn’t attracted to me as I heal into my ‘normal’ weight?”
First off, we never went out at my lowest point — mentally and physically — where I barely had any estrogen. I didn’t have a period for 5 years. My body fat was 9%. My butt cheeks didn’t f-ing touch (Yep, can you even imagine?!). I never focused on guys, or relationships. I had zero sexuality, zero passion. Calories, working out, and reaching certain numbers were the only things in my OCD mind. I was disconnected to my body and everything around me. Sounds like a wonderful girlfriend, huh?
But after we started dating, I think he was trying to support whatever I wanted at the time, and what I wanted was to lose weight after my body had started rebelling. I didn’t feel comfortable in my own body as I started gaining the weight. And he wanted me to feel good in my own skin. Also, I think he had an idea of what his type was and what society had told him to go for. However, it became clearer than ever that no matter how much exercise, or no matter how healthy and clean and little I eat, I wasn’t going to lose weight. Not even an ounce. My body was protecting itself from starvation, from dying.
As time went by, he could tell that I was the healthiest person he knew. I never let myself go. I began to realize that this is how I was supposed to be. And after seeing successful plus models, reading inspiring books, and really listening to my body and mind for the first time, I began to truly love myself. I started to rediscover who I was and what my body was. I had normal estrogen and testosterone for the first time in years. I was compassionate, alive, sexual. I had boobs and a butt again! I honestly feel more confident in myself now as a size 12-14, than I ever did at a 00-2. I made it my life promise to myself that I will be the healthiest I can be and whatever my body does is where I am supposed to be, and I have to accept that and embrace it. He has admitted to me that I helped him see beauty in sooo many other forms. My body is strong, healthy, and oh-so-feminine (talk about a visual!). He loves curves now. LOVES. And more importantly, so I do. :)
I have the same exact measurements as the beautiful Candice Huffine. I would take this body and an alive spirit over a bag of bones and a corrupt mind any day! And I think men would agree. ;)
First off, thank you for your kind words. :)
Secondly, to be frank, I struggled through the entire f-ing thing.
I should always preface my story, saying that I had grown up a bigger girl and then obsessively dieted and exercised myself down to something unhealthy in high school and into college. I would say the beginning of my transformation into a healthy state of mind and body was in January 2008, when I almost fainted on the streets of New York City (after dinner). I felt so small in a city so big. I felt like my problems and self talk were so meaningless and insignificant compared to the world around me. My body was breaking itself down, and I had never been smaller. I had been eating the same amount of calories every single day for years and decided this had to be the last day. So I ate something little to go over my limit. It honestly felt as if a spell had been broken. I would say that I had OCD more than anything. I then made sure not to workout for two days in a row (my rule was that off days could not be consecutive). Another spell was broken; and to my surprise, the world did not blow up. I believe that breaking your own rules you set for yourself is the first step.
So, I began to eat a little more and give myself small, all-natural treats. I ended up gaining a little weight so I didn’t look and feel sickly anymore. But after reaching a certain weight in May 2008, I finally got my period after FIVE years. FIVE fucking years. And when this happened, ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE. It was a hormonal shitstorm. I felt depressed, fatigued, moody. I gained about 10 (real) pounds in the first week. I got acne so bad I had to wear Band-Aids on my face when I went out. Yep, Band-Aids. On. My. Face.
For the next two years, I consistently gained weight no matter what I did and no matter how little changed in my routine. I even tried Bikram Yoga for 30 days straight on top of some cardio and on top of following a nutritionist’s recipes. I didn’t lose an ounce. My body was in recovery mode, trying for dear life to save itself. It was determined - nothing could get in its way. I felt horrible in the skin I was in. None of my clothes fit. I was 70 pounds heavier than my former self. 70. That’s a lot for anybody, let alone for a girl with my background. I was terrified what people would think. “Did she let herself go?” When in reality, I had remained my extremely healthy and active self through the entire thing.
Then, I was forced to do some soul searching. The constant state of “not being good enough” was not sustainable and no way to live. I read books, talked to my friends and boyfriend, looked to plus models, and went to about 13 doctors for advice. One naturopathic doctor at the end of last fall really woke me up. I needed to stop EVERYTHING if I was going to get through this. No more counting calories. No more weighing myself. No more forcing anything. So, that day, I stopped everything cold turkey, and I haven’t gone back. I began to realize that going against your body never gets you anywhere. I truly began to listen to myself and care for myself. What a concept? Whatever it wanted - be it rest, a yoga class, a big salad, or a piece of dark chocolate - I gave it. We became a team. Numbers and measurements didn’t matter anymore. How I felt mattered. It was freeing to stop the running a calorie tally in my head all day long. It was like taking off blinders I never knew I had. My surroundings had color! I was able to focus on important things; my mind finally had room for it. I soaked in the world around me and loved the people in it. And that basically brings me to where I am today. I feel bad for the girl in my past, as I feel completely detached from that person. But she has made me strong, and thanks to her, I now realize what’s important in life. :)