“Are you shopping for you or someone else?”
Uhm, us, well, me.
“Oh, well, we aren’t going to have anything in here to fit you…..”
My eyes darted from her body to mine, and back to hers. “What was I missing?” I thought to myself. I thought her and I were about the same size. I don’t understand. No, this isn’t some Abercrombie and Fitch fat shaming.
“….our store starts at a size 12.”
Shopping sucks, I haven’t eaten in about a week. Even with this ED I recently fell into a great article about thin privilege.Unfortunately, it is so true. I don’t get judged for eating something, hell, at this point people praise me and cry when I eat. I get attention at stores. If I want pants or a shirt it is almost always in stock, and I have the ability to get it for fairly cheap. The only one who judges my body seems to be me. Yeah, I’ve heard it all from “fat ass” to “chicken legs”. I have never been called petite or tiny until this year. I have lost quite a bit of weight. I don’t have any pants that fit, no bras besides sports bras.
I am jealous.
Jealous of the girls who wear whatever they want.
Jealous of the girls who see food as food and not as numbers.
Jealous of the girls who are bigger than me, but radiate, just absolutely RADIATE self confidence.
I want that. I want confidence. To not wake up in the morning and hate myself.
To wear something other than yoga pants, running shorts and sweats and not hate my body.
C, called me today to see if I had pursued anyone/anything/any place else for treatment or made an appointment. I didn’t have much to say. I slept all of maybe four hours last night. I ate for the first time in six days yesterday. My best friend kinda forced me to, then told me, “If you have to go to the bathroom it’s ok.” Wait, did my best friend just give me permission to throw up? Should I be pissed or thrilled? Excited or appalled? ….going off on a tangent, oops…. So, I ate a little, threw up what I could, but woke up in the middle of the night with muscle spasms and my stomach being pissed as hell that I had eaten. I was curled up in pain, regretting eating at all. Fucking food. So, anyway, C, called. I told her I hadn’t much thought about it, the ED specialist was only there one day a week and because of work and school that is literally the one day I can’t go. She threw out a couple of options. I mentioned possibly going to something on campus, she threw out the idea of coming to her office. Either way she was really pushing the fact that I need to go somewhere or do something. My best friend was standing right there while I was on the phone. Didn’t bother me one bit. She sat there silently as C went on about scheduling an appt, dr appt, something. I told her that my best friend was really pushing residential during December, “That would be great, if we can keep you healthy that long.” gee thanks….
On the plus side, I actually bought pants yesterday. Bought my plane ticket for Thanksgiving! I am so tired. Hate headaches. My legs are still cramping. Dysmorphia and ED are both bitches.