Just Another Day

And here we are at the end of April. Dreadful time of year. Not least of all because my birthday falls on the 30th. 

This year, tomorrow is shaping up to just be Thursday - complete with psychologist appointment. 

Birthdays are a quiet affair these days. Back when there was a family, we would go out for dinner, which I always enjoyed. In the past, of course, I would drink. I did go out for dinner with my support worker/bestie, S, two years ago, which was nice. Of course, I got drunk and made an idiot out of myself, but that was par for the course. 

In the past few years, for birthdays I would at least cook something ‘special’, or perhaps get takeout. That was really the only thing I 'did' for my birthday. But for the past four birthdays, I just feel like it was going through the motions. Following the script for what a birthday should be, even though I'm alone now. It’s become increasingly like that each year since mum passed. Christmas is the same - I just kept asking myself 

"Why am I even doing this?"

Even at my worst points, I’d always eaten on Christmas and birthdays.

This past Christmas, I couldn’t get a proper roast, and I took it as a sign. Instead, I fasted, as a silly little symbolic thing. I suppose it was like saying that my anorexia is stronger than tradition. That I am just done with it all.

For my birthday tomorrow, I asked S to get some cheese & chive scones from the bakery. They're something I used to have with mum, something that feels special. The bakery didn’t have any - they don’t even sell them anymore. 

Could I DoorDash them from another bakery? Of course. But I immediately thought that it’s a sign. That the universe is telling me not to eat. So I’m going to do a silly little symbolic thing, and fast. 

Even at my worst points, I still ate every Christmas and birthday. But it’s time to stop going through the motions. It’s time to stop pretending. 

* * *

It’s been another month, and so I’ve had two more appointments with the New GP. One in person, one telehealth. 

I also saw Dietitian. Apart from not having any appointments for two months, I hadn’t seen her in person since December. 

Ever since 2020, I’ve been doing most of my appointments as telehealth, only going in person when Old GP pushed me to get a blood test, or I needed other things done in person. I’m trying to change that and get there in person more. 

She mentioned that it’s been a long time since I’ve gotten on her scales. I said that I’d prefer not, that I really don’t want to.

“But it’s just the same as getting on your scales at home.” 

“But it’s not. I have to account for clothes, and all the fluids that I drink beforehand… I used to weigh my outfits and not even have any water beforehand. That’s why I always had the earliest appointment of the day. But I can’t get out of the house without at least a coffee these days.”

She understood, but asked if I could give her some weights to fill in the gaps on my record. I do tell her my weight when she asks, but she only does so occasionally, and I’m not sure if it’s always recorded. I am always honest about my weight, and I think she trusts me.

So I opened up my weight history and just gave her my phone. Looking at last year’s log, she commented on how much I’ve lost, that it’s gone down quite a bit. I tried to alleviate her concern, brushing it off as something that was always going to happen once I stopped drinking.

She told me that I really can’t afford to lose anymore, but I struggle to take it seriously. I have a tendency to make light of it., in the way the average person might go “oh, I’m so bad” when they take an extra dessert, I do it when I lose an extra kilogram.

Then she asked me how I feel about my weight. I thought for a moment.

“I don’t feel particularly strongly one way or another.”

Which is somewhat true. I went on to explain that after spending so many years in that BMI 12-14 range, that still feels like my Normal Weight. Then after the substantial weight gain when I started drinking, it never felt like the weight my body was supposed to be. It was foreign to me. 

And now I’m here, teetering around in between. I feel strongly about my weight, but somewhere in the middle. So I don’t completely hate my current weight, but I’m still not entirely comfortable with it either. In my mind, I’m halfway through getting back to my Normal Weight.

As for New GP, I'm still on the fence as to whether or not she'll be the right one for me. I’ve still got to go out to get a blood test, but looking at my previous results, she seems to think she can talk me into taking supplements. I told her that it’s not going to happen, that the only thing I’ve been able to do was the B12 shots, but she still wants to discuss it further.

I know its not logical to most people, but it’s still nutrition, still nourishing my body. Food and calories are the main concern, yes, but it doesn’t stop there. I could deal with the B12 shots, because it wasn’t me doing it. But taking those pills, willingly giving those extra nutrients to my body… I just can’t do it. I have a feeling she may not understand that.

xx Bella