A little over a year ago, a woman I was in the mental ward with sent me a message commenting on the weight I had apparently gained since we met each other instead of giving me a kind greeting (she had no knowledge of my eating habits, and was not trying to be nice). The picture she was making a statement about was one of my partner and I, his arm around my waist and my arm pressed against my body. I didn’t think I looked fat, which was a feat from the years of struggling with an eating disorder. I immediately associated her comment with the size of my arms, which began a whole new cycle. In a frenzy, I removed that picture and get overly frustrated whenever I see it.
I’ve been able to abstain from eating disorder behaviour for the majority of the past year, but that comment sits with me every single day.
I’ve planned to go to a local group in my new city for the first time since I moved, and I am too scared to go because… My arms are too fat.
I am so terrified of people seeing my body shape as of late that I’ve been hiding in pyjama pants and long sleeved sweaters for the majority of the past 5 years. I am so horrified of people gazing at my hideous arms made of jelly that, I can’t even conceal with good positioning in a short sleeved shirt because I’m covered in scars. My arms are literally the main attraction to the amusement park that is my body.
I never thought that my arms would be the main hindrance for me not wanting to leave the house. I am so humiliated with my body currently. And, it doesn’t help that I have another eating disorder appointment in less than 3 weeks.
I want to remain hopeful, and stay committed to that recovery path, but I’m losing my hope and faith. I can’t help but want to hide in a shell and stay concealed until I feel I am thin enough to come out of my cocoon.
I was on the right path, but I don’t know if I can continue that right now…
***I sincerely hope this didn’t trigger anyone; I just needed this off my chest.***