Spring

I've kept up with at least two hours a day on the walking pad, with one rest day a week. Some days have been up to three hours. 

When I first got it, I thought I could just use it for 30 minutes here and there. Get five minutes in when I'm waiting for a telehealth appointment, or if I have a few minutes before S gets here, or waiting for the washing machine to finish. Maybe when I've been sitting for a while, and just felt like moving. But compulsive exercise has always been an issue for me, which is one of the big reasons I've avoided getting a proper exercise machine again. I didn’t want to go back to having the constant stress. Now it's hanging over my head again, something I need to do before I can sit down and stop.

So far, I've mostly been walking between 4-5km/h, usually some 12,000ish steps across two hours, and according to my Fitbit, around 600 calories burned (more like 480, if you subtract the ‘staying alive’ calories). I know they're never going to be 100% accurate, but it's better than nothing.

Dietitian didn’t ask how much I’m walking, just that I am. I guess I'll see if she asks tomorrow. While I’ve never been one to lie to hide my eating disorder, I do tend to omit parts of the truth with professionals unless directly asked. Psychologist did ask though when she spotted the walking pad. I don’t usually talk much about the ED with her unless it comes up naturally, because it’s not her specialty, so I was surprised when she showed concern. 

She asked if I was getting enough calories for it (no intake increase), if Dietitian knows (not really), if it was triggering for the ED (that’s the point, I certainly don’t exercise for my health, I just needed to do something to get the scale moving again), and if I’m aiming for a specific number on the scale (not in particular, I’ve done this long enough to know I’ll never be satisfied).

‘Not in particular’ feels strangely accurate, if vague. It’s always just the next milestone. 51kg, 49kg, 45kg, BMI 15, 14, 13, 12… a never-ending string of goals, but none in particular. 

But at least I haven’t taken laxatives again since I started exercising so much. 

My worth today is 54.3kg. 119.5lb, BMI 16.4.

56.6 at the start of September, 56.0 when my walking pad was delivered three weeks ago. In recent months, I'd sit mostly between 55-56kg. Something had to give. ~54.5kg is what I'd only see after a laxative overdose, when I was dehydrated and drained. When I hit that, that's when I knew I was outside of 'normal fluctuation' territory, and that the scales were finally moving again.

I try to keep my focus on the bigger picture. It’s only now that I can look at the trend for the past few weeks and see a definitive loss. I weigh myself every time I use the bathroom, but only count first and last weights of the day (the latter so I can try to predict the next morning’s weight). Even then, I try not to stress out when it jumps up. Yesterday I woke up 0.6kg heavier than the morning prior, and ended up walking three hours because of it, because it’s an abnormal fluctuation to the current pattern, but of course it was back down this morning anyway. 

The warmer weather is officially here, and it's such a relief. I spend winter shuffling around in a dressing gown, hugging a heat pack, even with the heater on a reasonable temperature. It's always so nice to be able to just sit around in leggings and a tank top. I immediately feel so much lighter (metaphorically).

xxBella

Just Keep Walking

I finally took the plunge and bought a walking pad.

It's been years since I've had a full-size exercise machine. I had an elliptical for many years, which was my first love in the early days of my AN, then an exercise bike for a while. In recent years I've only had smaller items (like an aerobic step, mini exercise bike, and a mini stepper) but mostly they're more geared towards building muscle than I'd like, whereas I'd rather get rid of it.

I've always liked the idea of being able to walk inside without having to pace in endless loops, but I wasn't sure if I'd get used to the sensation of the moving belt, so I was apprehensive. It took a couple of days to adapt, but now I'm loving it. After the initial period of getting used to it - 60 minutes on the first day, 90 minutes on the second day - I've been doing a full two hours each day, broken up into three or four sessions.

I did have one rest day, and felt much better for it physically (my legs have been screaming at me), but in little over a week, I feel that all-too-familiar anxiety already taking root. I didn't think I'd be using it this much, at least not initially, but it already feels non-negotiable, an obligation to hit the numbers before I can rest. It's constantly hanging over my head. At the end of the day, I've been so tired, I haven't had energy to do much else. I was determined to get a post done today though, even though it means I've only done 40 80 minutes so far, and will have to keep going once I've posted this.

I'm hoping it'll be exactly what I need to break the plateau I've been stuck at for months now. It's far too early to tell, but I'm cautiously optimistic.

I guess it's as good a reason as any to get out of bed in the morning. Plus, I'm smashing through audiobooks.

I told Psychologist about the laxatives. I wasn't sure if I would. I could feel myself dancing around the issue, trying to avoid it, but knowing I should tell her.

Towards the end of our sessions, she always asks if there's anything else I wanted to talk to her about. Most of the time, I've usually covered the important things.

This time, I paused.

"Um..."

Pause.

Then, it all spilled out. I told her about how I've been getting fixated on self-harm, the vivid thoughts of carving myself open, knowing exactly where the blade should start and stop. I told her about the laxatives. That I crave lasting pain they give, not just momentary like other forms have been.

We spoke a bit about distress tolerance techniques, and gave me a plan to follow using a few different methods. She wants me to try it when my distress levels are like a 6/10, and see if it drops any. The idea is to do it before it gets to a 10/10, before it gets to the point where I'm DoorDashing laxatives.

1. Stop, don't act

2. Face in ice water, or ice pack, cold shower, etc

3. 60-90 seconds of movement to increase the heart rate (suggested star jumps)

4. Breathing exercises

5. Chew strong gum, peppermints, something sour, etc

I couldn't help but laugh at the star jumps. It's the one thing I have tried before. Back in 2013, trying to avoid self harm, I tried jumping up and down on the spot and shaking my arms. The first time I tried it, I sprained my arch. Once it healed, I tried the technique again, and immediately sprained the other arch. Fool me twice...

So far, I'm only really doing the exercise part (which scratches part of the 'self destruction' itch). I don't really know how to stop as the first step. A week after my last post, when the urge came, I immediately opened Amazon and ordered three bottles of laxatives, then took them as soon as they were delivered two days later (note: it still didn't feel like enough). I like the idea of the whole process, but it seems that actually starting it is the problem. I don't know how to circumvent the impulse.

She asked if I'd told the rest of the team. I said I'd told S, but still wasn't sure if I was going to tell Dietitian or GP. She said that if I did, GP knows they can call her if they have any concerns.

I laughed "I don't know that she does."

At our last appointment (when she agreed to increase the Seroquel further - still waiting to see if it helps), GP asked me if I've ever thought about linking in with psychology. I've been seeing my current psych for 9 years, in-and-out of different mental health professionals since I was 12. 

It made me realize just how little she knows about me and my overall situation. I know it's still early days, but after 6 months of fortnightly appointments, I was shocked that she didn't even know I have a psychologist. It makes me wonder what else she just doesn’t know about yet. 

xxBella