I'd been crying about it all week. The scales. Mum wanted me to go in last Thursday to talk to the dietician about it, but I didn't even want to go in on Tuesday. But I did.
She wasn't there when I arrived. My anxiety peaked when I heard her walk in. I tried to force a smile as she walked past and said good morning, but I don't think I managed it. I felt sick. I didn't want to talk to her about it, but I couldn't not talk to her about it either. I wanted to run and leave before she came back out. But I didn't.
She asked the usual questions - how's your week been, intake, have I been cooking, leaving the house, sewing. I could barely say two words.
"Have you been pretty quiet this week?"
"No... I don't know."
She asks what's wrong, and I eventually force out the dreaded words.
"I've gained weight."
"What makes you say that?"
"I've been weighing myself on the Wii (more on this later), my body feels different and I'm not stupid."
I told her the weights I'd scribbled down.
Just before I started seeing her, on my proper scales, I weighed 47.4kg (BMI 13.7).
Last January, on the same proper scales, I weighed 43.7 (BMI 12.6)
The weeks following, I weighed between 45-47kg on the Wii Fit.
As of today, I'm... 50.2 on the Wii.
She looked at her computer
"Do you want to know numbers?"
"It doesn't matter any more."
At that point, she could've told me exactly what I weighed clothed-and-coffee'd each week for the last three years and I wouldn't have cared less. I didn't even get on her scales this week. When I saw my GP two days later, she had my weight screen up and I just stared at it. So much for turning my head whenever the dietician types in my weight.
She said that from last January (43.7), I went up a shocking 8-fucking-kilograms between then and September/October (approx. 51.7kg, BMI 14.9), but have lost about 4kg since (approx. 47.7kg, BMI 13.8).
(...plus another kilo since she last weighed me)
I wanted to die.
"That's like a kilo a month... Why didn't you say anything?"
"I did, like I do each week."
Okay, quick break here to explain how my blind weighing supposedly works. When I first met the dietician, I told her I wanted to stop weighing myself but still have an idea without having to know exact numbers. She asked what I did want to know, and we agreed she'd tell me if I gained or lost each week (no numbers), and if I started to gain or lose outside of a normal maintenance range (say, 2-3kg either side?)
It's not like I gained every week. The occurrence of gain vs loss wasn't that different to any other time, but obviously the amount was.
"But when I was losing, before last January, you'd sit down every week after telling me if I'd gained/lost and say 'there's a pattern forming, you're losing weight, you need to see your GP, you need to drink Ensure, you need to eat more' - not just whether I'd gained or lost that week. It wasn't just a fluctuation, and you made it clear."
"But what would that do to you, if I did say 'you're gaining weight'?"
What would that frikkin' do to me?!
I asked her to. It'd mean I could trust her. It would mean she was actually monitoring my weight and keeping me informed. It would mean I'd be aware of it, not surprised by it when it's already added up. It would mean I don't have to keep weighing myself at home.
It's not like I ever expected her to encourage me to stop gaining or eat less. But it would've been nice if just told me.
She asked what triggered all of this. I said I wasn't an idiot, I knew I'd gained, my body feels different and it's not dysmorphia. I just stupidly hoped the gain would be more like 5kg, not 8. The Wii Fit proved it earlier this year, and I was tired of it being the elephant in the room. I was tired of her saying "down a little bit, nothing to be worried about, but we'll keep an eye on it" when my weight drops. We both knew but no one was talking about it and I had to talk about it
We went back and forth for a while before she just said
"Look, we're never going to reach a consensus on this, I'm not arguing about it any more."
"I'm not trying to argue..."
I tried to talk but I just kept crying and she was getting more and more fed up with me. I was sat there crying like a loon, not understanding why she didn't just say something.
Eventually she just said "I'm not talking to you about this any more."
And so I left.
I didn't even get to say my piece. She thinks I'm angry and argumentative because I've gained weight, when it's not like that at all. I just feel so incredibly sad, I don't understand why she didn't tell me.
And it sucks because I really did try to talk it through. I wanted to bolt when she said "8 kilos", but I didn't. I didn't want to run out upset and carry it for another week. But she didn't even want to talk about it so now I'm carrying it heavier than before.
I's not even really about how much I'd gained, or even that I'd gained. It's not about the fact she did do the right thing medically to try to get my weight back up a little. My problem is that I trusted her to at least tell me when I started to gain outside fluctuations, just like she did when I was losing, and now I feel like she'd only tell me what she chooses to. I didn't expect to hear "eat less, lose weight". But I did expect to hear "your weight is definitely increasing" as an objective fact.
This is going to sound crazy, but if anyone's going to understand, it's you guys.
I put a lot of trust in her when I stopped weighing myself on the reg and started letting her weigh me. This isn't forced. I didn't start seeing her because I had to, and I don't need to be weighed. It was the first time I'd volunteered to be weighed by anyone. Unless I was sectioned or in hospital, I refused to let doctors weigh me (though I'd tell them with honesty what I weighed that morning).
And I let her weigh me because I couldn't handle the stress any more. I couldn't cope with weighing myself and being so knocked down by every little gain, and every not-big-enough loss. I thought, she said, she'd actually monitor my weight and be honest with me so I could have an idea of what I weighed without having to know a number, not sugar-coat it and only tell me what she chooses to. It was the one reason I didn't have to weigh myself at home.
It was such a deep, personal thing to let her weigh me, and in a way I feel she's damaged that trust. Then I feel like an idiot for entrusting such a personal responsibility to someone else. I'm so upset, and it's not just about the weight, but it feels like I'm being completely ridiculous, but it really hurts, you guys.
How could I trust her to tell me before I gained another 8kg? I don't even want to think about it. It feels like a disease, spreading through my body, but I caught it just in time.
Now I have to keep weighing myself at home. I mentioned before, I've been weighing myself on the Wii Fit. It's been an on-and-off thing for the last few months, plus a month after last January's weigh-in. I don't do it everyday, just three or four days a week. I'm still too scared to see my real, accurate, naked-and-void weight on the bathroom scales. The Wii makes it less real, since I don't know my actual weight.
I'm not 100% sure when I'm going to allow myself the real bathroom scale. The temptation is huge, but at the same time, there's a comfort in not knowing my exact weight. The Wii has never matched my scales, but I still know I've lost 3kg since the start of the year. From the dietician, I know I'm around 4kg higher than I was last January. That's enough. For now, at least.
I've just been a wreck about it. I'd been crying all week, since the Tuesday before when everything hit me, and I've been crying all week since. Everything just keeps on stacking up. I can't take it and I can't articulate how I feel. So overwhelmed, so scared, so very low.
Now I have my appointment with her tomorrow and I still don't want to go but I know I should but I'm just dreading it. I can't just go in and pretend that everything's fine, it's not.
I don't even know if I should keep seeing her. I haven't been actively upping my intake for some time, we don’t talk much about actual nutrition and food choices (beyond deficiencies/supplements), there's no benefit of her weighing me any more. She gives me support, but I don't know how much support I even want any more. I'm just so tired of everything.
Please excuse me while I die of shame. I don't know what'd be worse - telling you all I've gained such a horrific amount, or just saying I've gained and letting you assume even worse. I feel utterly disgusted with myself.
Off-topic, and I know this is long enough, but I got a new pair of shoes a few weeks ago. I haven't had the chance to wear them out yet, but I finally took some photos.
|They immediately reminded me of a pair of shoes I had when I was 15/16 years|
old. I found them at an op shop and wore them 'til they fell apart.
I hadn't bought new shoes in years, but I had my eyes set on three pairs from the Wittner end-of-season clearance. This is the final pair.
I don't like talking money, but these were worth the wait. The first two pairs were bought on clearance, but then they added an extra 20% offer. These ended up costing just $31 AUD, down from $169.
|10.5cm heel, oh baby|