is anyone else like obsessed with protein bars. i think its cause i love chocolate and sweet things (like nuts and PEANUT butter omgg) , and the macros are so clear and they feel safe. my favorites are RX bars, IQ bars , aloha bars, bobo's protein bars, the cliff nut butter ones, and natures valley ... I also love a good Z bar. I have like a drawer full of bars in my room
if only 16 year old me knew being anorexic once is being anorexic forever… do the thoughts ever go away or do they only get quieter? it’s taken me almost 6 fucking years to use olive oil again and even now it scares me and i pour most of it out of the pan
i’m drunk and i’m sad because i just wish id known that it wouldn’t leave before i did it all
does it really haunt you forever? does it ever fully go away????
Hi all. Please let me know if this goes against community rules, but I’m trying to understand what makes anorexia. Is it a likeness to being very thin? Aversion to food? Fear of weight gain / recovery? Calorie counting? I don’t necessarily mean an extreme food restriction. I’ve learnt that anorexia looks different in different people.
And how does one realise when they have a problem like this?
my therapist told me to think of the cons for my scale but I can only think of one: it’s fueling the ed that’s taking over my life and ruining my relationships. and the rest I can think of are just pros such as it makes me happy to see the numbers go down and it’s a stable thing that I have. what are some more cons as to having a scale?
I had an appointment with my doctor today. There is a part of me that recognizes how serious my disorder is. That knows without treatment, I can die of my medical complications. The anorexia, because it has gone untreated for years, without further intervention, will eventually progress and I will die. If I do not go to the hospital, get intensive treatment for it, to stop the weight loss and malnourishment, my body won't be able to handle it anymore. And death is possible. I'm not 23 anymore, like I was during my last inpatient stay in 2009. I'm 40, this has continued for 20 years. In 2021, I developed the medical complications that have caused me severe pain. And increased the depression and anxiety I was already struggling with. I've lived with serious complications for five years.
But just because I am still alive doesn't mean I cannot still die. My doctor warned me how severe this is getting. In 2021, my doctor recommended palliative care as an extra layer of support. She said inpatient is what I need, but palliative care can offer me more support. It was always my decision. And I wasn't scared when she made the referral. I did get very scared when I first started experiencing the worrying symptoms, the constant pain, more weight loss, and worsening health. I knew my organs were being affected by starvation. I couldn't ignore the signs. I couldn't say I wasn't sick enough.
I told my parents about my symptoms, who were scared for me and in denial for a while. Until the person from palliative care explained to them in detail what is happening to my body. That this is what happens when anorexia is progressing. Things like losing weight without trying, losing my appetite, disliking foods I used to like, growing weaker, no longer being able to do certain things without getting tired, are all signs of decline after you've struggled with a serious illness for years. While I've always been at a low weight, I have recently experienced a further drop in weight. Which I am worried about.
I stepped on the scale today at the doctor and wanted to cry. I was hoping the one at my house, which always reads the same number, was possibly wrong. The number at the doctor was always a bit higher, and I was hoping the one at my house was wrong. That I couldn't possibly have lost as much weight as I have. Today, this confirmed it. I have lost more weight. I was maintaining for a while, even if it wasn't a healthy weight. Now, it's lower. People from palliative care wrote in their notes that maintaining or gaining weight, vs losing weight, is good. When I was gaining weight for a while, they said it was a good thing. Losing weight will cause me to decline quicker. Stress my organs further. And I know this. And that's bad. It's at a dangerous point. I can't keep losing weight. I do not feel good about this.
At the weight I am at, my organs won't continue to function like they are. There are already serious signs of decline. But I do remember, from November of last year, to March of this year, I ate more, got my weight up on my own, and was feeling better. Unfortunately, things went downhill. And deep down, I knew trying to self recover wasn't enough to stop the progression of this illness. My parents are not people who take difficult information easily. I've read about unintentional weight loss when an illness is progressing. Without a doubt, I do not eat enough in general, to maintain a healthy weight. But now, all it takes is me throwing away part of my meals. Eating slightly less than I did the day before, and there will be a dramatic drop in weight.
I experience painful and frequent urination, have lost the ability to properly absorb the nutrients from calories I eat. These are the worst medical complications I've experienced. Every single day, from the time I wake up to the time I go to sleep, I am in constant pain and agony. I feel sharp pain. My bones hurt. Always have to be near a bathroom. I get hungry, even after eating a full meal now, due to the organ damage. I get different answers. My treatment team tries to remain hopeful, telling me I would really have to get more help, and put in the effort, but recovery is possible. But palliative care doesn't sugarcoat things. And they said I could go to inpatient, but need to be prepared for the possibility this has progressed to the point they can't fix me.
I don't cry or get upset at hearing difficult news. I've heard it so much, I can remain calm. My mother, on the other hand, cries easily. The first time I had a meeting with palliative care, I saw the tears in her eyes, after hearing something that upset her. And how she had to get up from the table. I heard her crying in the bathroom. After the person from palliative care said what's happening to me is because of years of malnourishment. That organ failure is the outcome. If no further steps are taken to treat this.
Before my complications started, eating and gaining weight was easy. But I had to push myself. I had to eat regularly, and eat more, to make myself gain weight. The severe pain, and the depression, causes me to have days where I consider voluntarily stopping eating and drinking and hospice. The conversation with my doctor was one of the most serious conversations I have had. She didn't sugarcoat what she said. She can force treatment, she can involuntarily commit me to a hospital, if she thinks I am going to die. If I did go on hospice, my parents would be so sad.
My doctor said we are getting close, to where she thinks I will die, if nothing else is done to treat this. When I consider voluntarily stopping eating and drinking, it's just a thought. It pops in my head sometimes, because anorexia is a disorder that causes tremendous suffering, mentally and physically. However, I am not acting on these thoughts right now. I am still eating. I don't have days where I completely refuse food. I make sure to eat something every day, but the effort it takes and the pain I experience while eating, is what pushes me towards those thoughts. I do not want to die, yet so far, I have refused the help that will make me live longer.
I am not on hospice right now. Treatment is always an option. I have had times where I was doing better. This is a time where I am doing worse, and I can no longer remain in denial, like I was in the past. I'm not naive. I struggle with making choices. When I consider inpatient, I always change my mind. Because the part of my brain that is in denial says because I am still alive, at this weight, I won't die. The other part of my brain gets scared, wants more help, worries about dying, wants to fight to get better. When I got scared after seeing the number at the doctor, I thought "Okay, this is getting bad. You need more help. This is not good."
When I was younger, I felt I was maintaining control when I saw the number go down. I thought I was happy. But those feelings are gone. I am not happy. I do not feel good. There is no hiding the fact that I've lost weight. Everyone around me can tell. I saw some family members I have not seen in a few years recently. Without a doubt, they know how sick I am. They all know I've suffered from anorexia for years. I said hi to everyone when they came over. And was glad to see them. But stayed in my room, while they all prepared food and ate together. Because my disorder convinced me I didn't need to eat with them that day. So I stayed in my room, only eating my same foods, after everyone left for the day. I talked with my aunt about the anorexia. She said she loved me and wanted me to get better
Anorexia is a secretive disorder, causing you to fixate on rules. "Can't eat this food. It must be prepared this way and in this amount." This disorder causes you to distance yourself from others. You are worried they won't understand. You think when you are getting sicker, no one else sees it. People see how bad it is. Even if they never say anything.
You cannot hide a disorder like this from those who care about you. Your treatment team getting concerned doesn't mean they are trying to hurt you. Or take control away from you. You have no control when you are sick. You think you do, but you lost it the day you stood on the scale. Your brain, the lies this disorder tells you, your eating disorder is what will hurt you.
I feel trapped, anxious, scared, scared of death, scared of seeing this get worse, scared of not knowing whether treatment will ultimately be my choice. Or if treatment will be decided by someone else. My doctor wouldn't have said what she said if this wasn't getting bad. It was always serious, but my brain tries to tell me I can keep going like this. When you think you are maintaining some sort of control, you are actually being controlled by anorexia. When you think people trying to offer you help, wanting to see you get better are wrong, and that you can handle this on your own, that is a sign you are sick enough.
You can get close to the edge, and think you are invincible. But your body has limits. I try to remain optimistic, however, I get tired of dealing with this. I get tired of the aches and pains, I know I should have more energy. I know I am still young. My body shouldn't be declining. I should think about other things, not just my weight. Going without looking at the number shouldn't make me anxious. Sitting down to a plate of food should be enjoyable. Not make me panic. I worry that my life will be shorter, if I do not make an effort to actually recover and accept more help
Therapists have considered an ivc in the past. Last September, my therapist was ready to ivc me if I didn't go to the emergency room to get checked out. Any therapist can do this. Doctors can force treatment too. I went to the emergency room again recently, and was sent home, and told they couldn't help with the anorexia. Lab results, even in severe anorexia, can often remain normal. But if you take this as a sign you need to get worse, and that you aren't sick enough, I am telling you that you are sick enough. Your pain is real. And no matter how sick you get, it won't be enough.
Even if your labs aren't normal, you won't feel valid. You can die at any weight. You can develop organ damage at any weight. Some people get to where they have damaged their organs, yet feel no pain. Some people always experience pain. Labs coming back normal doesn't mean you are fine. So if that is what you rely on, please take what your treatment team says seriously. If you are in a similar situation, if you've had people tell you that you can die without more help, they mean what they say. It may feel like something like an intervention or being forced into treatment is a punishment. But they do this for a reason.
Hospice sometimes sounds so final, but palliative care has told me it is not a death sentence. I can always change my mind, come off hospice if I start to improve. Nothing is set in stone. But I do know my parents are my main support in life. They drive me to appointments, schedule appointments, understand I have a severe and life threatening eating disorder, as well as being disabled. I need extra help doing things. I always will. If it isn't my parents helping me, it will be my brother, my sister, or someone else in my family. They would be happy if I went to the hospital to work on treating this. They can't ignore that I starve myself and that I am getting sicker, every day. They remember the way I used to be, years ago. They always supported me, but struggle with conversations about palliative care.
They say things like "You aren't too far gone." They hold onto hope for me, when I feel it slipping away. My therapist, doctor and nutritionist hold onto hope for me. They just want to see me better. My mom and dad always make sure I eat something when I am home. They can tell I am doing worse. They even buy me my favorite foods, because they would rather I eat something, than not eat. If I stop eating a food I like, they notice and mention it. To get the foods I am willing to eat, sometimes it takes my dad going to different grocery stores. He will do it. My mom has always been a good cook. She prepares my favorite meals when I am around her. So I do not cause friction, I try to eat everything on my plate when she is around. My behavior gets worse when I am alone, and not at my parent's house. This is where I will often throw away part of my meals, and eat even less. Because no one's around to stop me. And I know I don't need to do this. I'm starving myself and I need to eat every bite, even if it takes me hours. I've been warned by my treatment team, repeatedly, how serious this is. What can happen if I keep not eating, losing weight, refusing treatment.
If I become more quiet around my parents when I am around them, they comment on it. They have noticed my depression, the weight loss, and the difference in my mood. They say "You've changed and you aren't like how you were before."
They care deeply. But our relationship is strained. And my disorder is hard for them to ignore. It's a constant reminder to them, that their daughter who they love, is battling a terrible disorder. My mother always told me how beautiful she thought I was, before I lost any weight. She never made comments about my weight. She always looked out for me and took care of me, since I was a child. Now, our conversations revolve around my illness. Did I eat today? What will I eat for dinner? What did the doctor say? How much do you weigh?
We never had discussions about weight loss when I wasn't anorexic. It changes everything, even the way you interact with others, when you become ill
No one pressured me to be on palliative care. It is something that I have learned a lot about. It is a topic that may make some people uncomfortable. Sometimes, what the people from palliative care tell me is difficult to hear. However, at this point, I can handle difficult news. I can handle uncomfortable conversations. But I do sometimes get really worried. I understand I can die. And I may sometimes blame myself because I didn't listen to people in the hospital years ago, when I was 23, scared, and in total denial. My organs were in danger of shutting down then, yet I couldn't see it.
My body was able to heal, but I had to cooperate with the program. There was no way they were letting me out of the hospital at the weight I was at. And in the physical condition I was in at the time. I fought the help. I cried when I realized I couldn't go home. I was scared because I was away from home. I was so ill, they wouldn't allow me to walk around too much in the hospital and had me use a wheelchair.
They threatened me with a feeding tube. The first hospital stay, they did this. They take things like that very seriously when you are in a life threatening situation. Pressured me to eat, by mentioning the feeding tube. A lightbulb didn't go off in my head. There was no "I'm in the hospital, now I am finally sick enough." Even when you can die, you won't see it. Some people have that moment of clarity, where they recognize they have a problem and they want help at the time. But at the time of my inpatient stays, I simply wasn't ready to listen. No matter how they tried to say it, to warn me I would get worse if I didn't treat this. I thought "These people are wrong. That won't happen to me. Just let me go home and keep doing what I am doing."
I went home, stepped on the scale, lost all the weight they had me gain in treatment, continued to refuse further treatment. Then one day, my whole world changed. I got the medical complications I currently struggle with. And the news that I can die of them. And reality hit me, and changed my entire outlook. I was so much happier, before I got sick. No one told me to lose weight. Anorexia isn't a choice. And you cannot shame someone into eating more. Fixing it. A person has to want to fix it. Sometimes, forced treatment can make a person want to get better. But sometimes, the outcome is not how you think, and the person resists the help. Treatment can help. It can save your life.
No one likes or wants to be hospitalized. It is not supposed to be comfortable. And if you go in denial and think you don't need to be admitted, your feelings are real and valid. But being hospitalized is difficult. And you won't feel special, taken care of, or valid. Even if you get so sick that hospitalization isn't your choice anymore. You won't be proud. I hated the attention I got when I was hospitalized. I wanted to be left alone. But if I had not gone when I did, I wouldn't be here, typing this out right now.
Now, years later, I have to make a choice before I no longer have a choice. I can't eat like I am, stay home, and fix this. To actually fix it, something has to change. I often resist change, and fear new experiences. However, I try to think of the good things that happened when I got hospitalized. All the friends I made, the people there who struggled with the same disorder. How I met one of my best friends there, a young woman who battled anorexia for years. Who I stayed in touch with for years, after I got out. How they all had a unique personality. A different story. A reason for struggling. Some people were getting better. Some people were not. I saw some people crying in the hospital over plates of food. I refused a feeding tube, but saw another girl there that had one. I never want to get to the point where I need one.
But if I get hospitalized, and I do not eat, like I wasn't eating at first the last times, I could get a feeding tube. My brain is my worst enemy. This disorder is not my friend. I had a nice life, before I got sick. I had many different interests and hobbies. Now, my world is so small and narrow, that thoughts of what I eat, how much I weigh, consume my brain. Anorexia is cruel. You have this fire in you in the beginning. When anorexia gets you in it's grip, that fire slowly burns out. Your world becomes darker, cold, lonely. You are in a prison. You aren't ever happy, even if you become so sick that people are ready to force you to go to a hospital. I remember the light in eyes, my once healthy body. When I was able to walk without feeling pain. When I told my dad my weight today, he got very sad. He said he doesn't like what is happening to me. He loves me. But he can't fix it.
It is not easy to do an ivc for anorexia. But it absolutely can happen. It happened to me during one of my hospital stays. The voluntary admission was changed to involuntary. While it's never been an official ivc, that's the closest experience I have. But I imagine the reality of it is way worse. And my doctor said if it comes to that with me, it would be a last resort. To save my life. To keep me from dying. My treatment team can do this, and I do not know what exactly determines it. They said it is not about being a certain weight. The weight loss, they said, is concerning. But it's the overall picture. If they think I am going to die, they will step in.
I did get scared, and agreed to eat. But remember crying, and shaking, as I had to sit down to eat the food they prepared. And calling my parents, begging them to come get me out. I remember being freezing cold, having to get weighed every morning, while I thought the fact they wouldn't allow me to see the number on the scale was the worst thing in the world. They described how my medical complications were affecting me. I always asked to go home. Or if I could know my weight. I wasn't aware of how sick I was back then. No matter what happened at the time, even having one of my voluntary inpatient stays changed to involuntary, being repeatedly warned I could die, made me realize how ill I was
Today was a wakeup call. People in my life just want to see me healthy and happy. I have a good treatment team, monitoring my health. I have loving parents, siblings who care, lots of people who will support me. I am sick. And I can't get better by myself. I can't do this alone. If you are struggling today, please know you aren't alone. If you've been through traumatic hospital stays, I understand. It is not your fault, whatever has happened to you because of this disorder
You don't deserve to hurt. You can feel better. You can be scared, and you don't have to go through this on your own
Not asking for medical advice, just wondering if anyone else can relate/has had a similar issue
Has anyone else, at some of their lower points, had trouble holding a conversation? Even a very, very basic interaction…? I’m finding it SO challenging to find any other response to anyone other than “Yeah”, “Sounds great”, etc. Just extremely surface level.
People can tell. I can’t remember anything. I’m listening to maybe half of what someone is saying — if that.
I’m at a very bad point at the moment due to other illness going on, but it’s digestive so it’s of course triggering by default.
Idk. Am I alone? Lol. Thanks in advance.
(This took me forever to type out too. So there’s that.)
EDIT UPDATE: I got hospitalized today. I have my own private room/bathroom so that’s great. Idk how long I’m gonna be here but… we’ll see.
hii
i’m currently in a relapse of my ed :( and i am so incredibly tired. some days i have some energy/adrenaline and don’t feel that hungry, but other days (whilst eating the same amount and moving the same) i feel like my body is completely drained and lightheaded.
does anyone know what can help with this? i try to eat 3-4 times a day (small amounts) and i drink coke zero for caffeine lol and lay in my bed whenever i can (outside of compulsive movement).
i know the best idea is to up my intake but it’s so incredibly hard for me…
I was honest with a professional for the first time in my 20+ years of living with this disorder and she's referring me to Laureate for their ED program... I'm literally so fucking scared right now. I'm shaking and crying. Please tell me something positive that happened during your recovery/treatment journeys. 🫶
i do. i want to eat and enjoy it. i’m hungry. it’s so horrible feeling this way. i don’t eat, im hungry, i binge, i hate myself. if i don’t eat i don’t feel well. if i eat im in pain and still don’t feel well. my body is already falling apart and im not even underweight. i hate everything. i wish i could stop caring so much. i wish eating didn’t make me want to cry from the shame and gain. it’s so unfair.
No number is ever good enough. No number you reach removes the pain and discomfort you feel inside
You think you feel good when you first start losing weight. As time goes by, you become obsessed with checking the number on the scale. You know you have a problem when going one day without checking your weight makes you anxious. You are never really happy. Even when you reach your definition of what is considered to be sick enough or severely ill. Even if you get hospitalized, even if you have a feeding tube, even when you lose a lot of weight, you are going to look at your reflection the mirror and still be sad. You chase after a feeling you will never arrive at.
You worry about your weight and what you eat, to take your mind off other things. Only, you never reach those good feelings you think you will arrive at. Living with anorexia is like living with a rain cloud over you. Every day is grey. Every day is the same. You start doing behaviors repeatedly, feeling anxious when you don't look in the mirror. Or you don't write down what you eat. Or you eat something outside of anorexia's rules
Everyone's rules are different. You go from being healthy to being sick. If you stay sick for years, eventually, getting better starts to terrify you more than staying ill does. A lot of anorexic people deny how sick they are at first, even if a part of you is aware something is wrong. Your family and loved ones see the problem long before you are even aware of how bad it is. When you are younger with anorexia, you often do not think of what happens years later. By staying sick, not fully recovering and becoming a chronic sufferer. I was naive when I first began losing weight. No matter how sick I got, I thought I had to be sicker.
That's why, when you step on the scale, and you've lost even more weight, or you've developed new and worse health complications, you aren't going to see the danger. You may be aware you have anorexia. Deep in this disorder, even when doctors, therapists, nutritionists, and your family, tells you how sick you are, you are going to be in denial. Part of your brain understands you are ill. That's the part of your brain that sometimes wants to get better. The other part of your brain clings to denial
"I won't die at this low weight. I am fine. If I lost more weight, then it would be a problem."
But it's a serious problem, the very day you step on the scale, decide you are unhappy with the number, for whatever reason, and want to change it. For me, I never knew when enough weight loss was enough. I would reach one number. Then my goal would change. I was always naturally skinny growing up, never stood on a scale as a teenager. Never cared about that number. Ate what I wanted. Struggled with depression, but no body image issues. I saw that scale in the bathroom, and the moment I stood on it, a switch flipped in my brain. And it changed everything. The scale becomes really important to you. Controlling your weight, making yourself smaller, gives you this false sense of control.
That is why, no matter how sick you get, you are going to be so deep in this disorder that you may deny how bad it is. You may even refuse treatment, even if you land in a hospital and people are trying to feed you through a tube. You fight with your own mind about what foods you can and cannot eat. It's a war against yourself. But you never win anything. You lose friends, experiences, years and time. Your happy carefree personality changes. You look in the mirror at your reflection. You see you are emaciated. You try to hide the weight loss. It will never work. People who care and pay attention to your health will never be able to forget or look away. They will never stop worrying, never stop trying to make sure you eat something. There will be fights at the dinner table. You will never look at food the same way again. You wish you could be happy, but with anorexia, it steals it away. Replaces those feelings with feelings of depression and pain
The pain it causes others in your life can be immense. I will never forget seeing my mother cry, when my disorder first started at age 20. She asked me to weigh myself. She saw how this disorder changed me into a completely different person. You will experience stressful doctor visits, and in the depths of sickness, make promises with the doctors you will do better. You won't lose any more weight. You won't be able to see how sick you are sometimes. And you will think the idea of hospitalization simply doesn't apply to you yet
"I'm not that sick. Everyone's overreacting. It is not that bad yet. If I was as sick as you say I am, I would feel a lot worse."
Yet, your body shows you signals it's hurting. At night, you are freezing cold and can't stay warm. No matter how many layers of clothes you wear, people notice your weight loss. They see something is wrong. You aren't ready to admit it's to the point of needing to be hospitalized. Your illness drives your thoughts. It's slowly taking you further away from the person you once were. Your bones hurt. You just want to sleep most days. Every day activities start to become a chore. You cancel that fun thing you had planned with a family member. What if they say something about your weight loss? What if you have to eat in front of them?
Anorexia is a lonely disorder, pushing you further and further away from those who love and care about you. You hear the comments from family members
"Have you lost weight? Maybe you should talk to someone. I am getting worried."
"Eat this please. I do not want to see you get sicker. I care about you."
"How much have you lost? You know this is becoming a problem. You need to stop weighing yourself so much. Have you thought of getting rid of your scale?"
If you did not have a problem, someone telling you to stop losing weight, to get rid of your scale, wouldn't send you into a panic. But it does. It's like with any addiction. You have a hard time stopping the behaviors that hurt you. You don't wake up and choose to be sick. Sometimes, people in life who care may get stressed and say things they don't mean. They don't want to see you hurt yourself
But when you are sick, you don't even know why you are hurting yourself. All you know is you fell into a restrictive eating disorder and deep down, you know you can die from what you are doing
When you start losing energy, not being able to focus, when it hurts to walk around, when you can't look away from that number on the scale for one day, when your mom asking you to please eat this meal she prepared makes your heart race, when you sit down and struggle to get through it
The struggle is real. You actually believe the lies your brain tells you
"You don't need to eat all this food. The number could be lower."
In the blink of an eye, you've landed in the hospital for anorexia. Doctors are telling you how dangerous this is. You have to eat more. You can die of organ failure if you continue on the path you are on
You are blinded by this disorder. You don't want to hear what they tell you. You have things under control
But anorexia controls you. You forget how you were before. You want to return back home, stand on that scale, eat your same foods. The hospital is worried you will die, so they don't let you leave. People tell how sick you are. You may or may not get the feeding tube. You feel trapped, and you know they will do anything they can to save your life.
Anorexia was trying to take my life, when I was hospitalized. Still, I couldn't see it then
Now, that I am older with anorexia, and have worse medical complications, I've realized that no number is good enough. No amount of attention, comments, concern from others, hospital stays, emergency room visits, no amount of therapists who repeat to you how sick you are, how much help you need, will make you see this
If you do see it, if you do get out of anorexia, before it becomes chronic, if you do recover before things get worse, you are lucky.
Many people just aren't in the space to want to recover, at the time they get hospitalized. Some people fight the process. Don't believe the people trying to treat you. I thought the doctors and nurses were trying to hurt me in the hospital. Anorexia was the thing hurting me all along
I sometimes hate I even noticed a scale in the first place. I remember the way I was before I got sick. I had my health and entire future ahead of me. Now, I'm so malnourished, that I cannot walk around without feeling pain. I should feel strong and healthy. Not sad and tired. Eating shouldn't make me so anxious. Once upon a time, as a happy and healthy teenager, I ate without fear. I didn't even look at the scale. I looked in the mirror and liked the person staring back at me. I was fine with my body at my healthy weight. Never wanted to hurt myself like this
It's a confusing disorder. People who don't suffer from it don't often understand why we can't "just eat" and fix it
If I could just eat, I wouldn't be severely ill, on palliative care, with horrible and painful medical complications. I wouldn't have gotten to the point where I damaged my organs. If it was so easy to "just eat more" and get better. While the body can be renourished, the mind is also sick. And it's not fixed as easily. Even when you get refed, you can relapse. Everyone winds up with different health issues. Anorexia isn't something that just affects you. Everyone who cares about you will never be able to forget. Even when they don't mention your disorder, you can see this look on their faces. As if they know what is happening to you, and it pains them. That look of sadness and pain. I've seen that on my mom's face and my dad's face.
I wish I could tell people in my life how it's not really about the food. The weight loss is a side effect. It's not about simply wanting to be skinny. You can starve yourself to the point of nearly dying. It's not something to joke about. If someone is saying they are struggling really badly with anorexia, you should listen. Be respectful, even if what they say to you is hard to hear
Your mind is in a cage. Your body is what you take your pain out on. You become a ghost of your former self. And it often feels like you aren't really living. Just existing. You think you deserve this hurt and this pain. You don't.
You deserve peace of mind and freedom from intrusive thoughts that anorexia creates. I know people recover. I've seen it. This disorder is not like movies make it seem. There's nothing glamorous about living in a body that is slowly failing, becoming weaker, about damaged health, and a mind that never lets you rest
You look in the mirror with tired eyes. Even when you say nothing, others see the expression on your face. As if you are saying "I am hurting, but I do not know how to express it."
So this is maybe why you focus so much on what that scale says. On what you eat and how much. To find relief from pain, which was never your fault.
Even if you go through multiple inpatient stays, it can wind up causing trauma, making you more resistant to the idea of getting better when you come out. Yes, recovery is possible. However, just because you end up in a hospital doesn't mean it's going to fix your thinking. For me, hospitalization repaired my body and the health issues I had at the time. It made me worse when I left, and I fear going back to any inpatient setting, due to the past trauma I experienced years ago. And people define trauma in lots of different ways. While everyone focused on trying to get me to gain weight. Me, someone who never thought twice about my weight growing up, became so obsessed with the number that I panicked when I couldn't look at the number for one day
So it changes more than just your body
It changes your outlook on life
I am 17 F, when i was 14 i was hospitalized due to anorexia and i recovered, i have been doing well since before i got my tonsillectomy surgery. Obviously, even though i was doing well the thoughts never left. With tonsillectomy recovery you must be on a liquid/soft diet. I have barely been eating due to my throat pain and i am losing weight. Im very hungry but im worried that when i heal i will continue to restrict and i dont want it to take over my mental health again, but i just want a burger man.
It has gotten to a point where im genuinely considering doing horrible things to myself for weight loss purposes. Things that are worse than the normal “starving”. im so beyond fucked and i fully desire to get worse and look like a corpse. im not stupid but clearly i am. I know others dont find it beautiful but i WANT to look on the brink of death. I want people to look and me and think “how can she still walk”. Help
Idk how to really put this into a forum. Ive maybe posted on reddit like 2 times before. But i need advice.
Im 26. Ive been like this for at least 6 years. I have no appetite at all most of the time but im so skinny, my body skips hunger pains and goes straight to nausea. I eat food I like. But too much makes me sick. If I eat meat chunks. It makes me sick....
Im also currently realizing im depressed and im also a chronic alcoholic. I am seeking psychiatric help after my primary doctor sees me on thursday. Im also poor so im limited
Ive been an alcoholic since 15 min. Ive had depression and anxiety for forever. Ive always coped decently but its too much lately. My depression and alcoholism is becoming unbearable. Im drawing the drinking back little by little. But the depression and anorexia is getting so much worse. Im dead locked. I need advice. How do I eat more.
I have snacks. Its just so hard to open them sometimes.
Its hard to sit and think and eat.
Its hard to not think. Not sit and eat
What do I do
Im sorry how scrambled this is. Im genuinely lost in life. If i need to provide context. Just ask. Idk what to say or do anymore
so i’ve been in recovery for a week and i think i have hypermetabolism because i have all the symptoms. i have read a few stories/articles about hypermetabolism but all they discuss is whether or not someone has that and the symptoms, no one talks about what it means, etc. i’m curious as to what does it mean for your body, are there some things that you should/shouldn’t do with hypermetabolism (for example, i’m fully weight restored AND my doctors have allowed me to go to my dance practice a few times a week even though i’m in recovery. still i wonder does practice hurt you more with hypermetabolism and should i quit that for a while or is that neutral) you’re welcome to just tell any story about your hypermetabolism to just kind of make this post a thread of shining more light to what hypermetabolism means and how everyone is experiencing and navigating through it!
i’m very confused as to what is okay to ask in these subs and what isn’t because i feel like any question regarding AN or recovery touches the forbidden topics but i’m really just a person going through recovery and trying to find information!! i hope this is allowed. i’m just trying to make more sense of this whole situation and hear stories of others, as there are limited resources available.
(I am 16 fem) been struggling with eating disorder since 14 not been diagnosed with an anorexia but I need help because it feels like I’m dying and I think I’m having re-feeding syndrome
I am writing this from the bathroom floor because I feel like I’m going to vomit,
I’m not a native speaker and has dyslexia so I tried to make it as clear as possible
A week ago I decided I wanted to recover and started eating some spaghetti even though I felt full in my stomach I still felt hungry mental so began binge eating then I was suddenly bloated not normal bloated like hurting
after a couple of hours I began having acid reflux like my breath taste like death itself
and this is a bit embarrassing but farting all the time
this has been going on for entire week
I don’t want to eat because it makes me bloated not because of appearance anymore because it makes me sick
so I have been starving then binging became sick again for many days repeat
I tried talking to my doctor since I began vomiting
He made me weigh myself
then told me I am normal weight and I should not go down more
And eat schedule meals
that’s it that’s all he did
ever since I became a teenager, I feel like my doctor stop taking me seriously and I have tried to tell my mom we should change but since it’s her doctor and apparently has “great humour” she just said that he knows best since he’s the doctor but I feel like he doesn’t care
I was going to talk to a ed doctor but they were sick and then it just got cancelled
I have stopped going to school because the acid reflex makes me feel disgusting and that I don’t have hygiene and that everyone else can smell my disgusting breath
And because don’t have energy to shower and wash my hair since each time I stand up it feels like I’m going to explode
please tell me I’m not alone and what I should be eating since I have discovered some meals, make it worse like spicy food and yoghurt seems to have the least effect
Energy drinks especially white monster makes me get the worst acid reflex
I have had food sensitive stomach since I was young like a toddler
I was wondering if other people also feel like they are out of breath or have shortness of breath because I feel like I have experienced this quite regularly at this point.
I do think I sometimes psychosomatically make myself think that something is going on when it is in fact not, so that's why I also wanted to ask this question.
Basically to sketch a clear scenario:
I always get out of breath in the strangest situations. I think it has something to do with malnutrition/restriction because (I think) it gets worse when I struggle more with eating (and restrict more). What happens is that I get out of breath in strange situations which is why I find it alarming in the first place.
I literally lay down on my bed, and I feel like I have trouble getting in a full breath. I AM LITERALLY LAYING DOWN!? I don't get it. It mostly happens at night or right before dinner (which is when I experience the most hunger when I do restrict).
I am not asking for any medical advice as I know I should ask a GP about it. I was just wondering if anyone else also struggles with this...
I keep being unable to sleep because I get so stressed about the breathing which ironically makes it harder to breathe 😭. Sometimes I also get a heart palpitation while it happens.. or it is leading up to a sort of heart palpitation (but this is only when I am hungry).
I know this is weirdly specific 😞 So I apologise for that.
I found her twt talking about shit like an “ana coach” which honestly is the detail that has been making me the most sick recently. How can you have a coach? How can you always come to me to complain about your ed yet you’re not even trying to make an ounce of effort into recovery and you’re just speed-running this illness. Its made me so sick. Am i being insensitive? Shes enabling others eating disorders and letting others enable her own. I dont think i was really supposed to find out about this. Theres a ton of stuff going outside of this but this is the main meat and potatoes. I just dont know what or how to think, i knew when she stopped talking to me about her ed it didn’t just magically disappear but jesus.
Slight TW for vomiting, but not purging.
Last week I was REALLY sick, it came to a point in one point I vomited more just about seven times in one day. I could just keep down gatorade, not even water, surprisingly. As well as sleeping all day. Well, I slowly got better, thank heavens, that was horrible.
Well, I weighed myself, I lost a lot of weight from that. And I know it's not just water weight because I'm properly hydrated now.
I CAN take solid food now, but after that week of essentially starving myself, I just don't wanna go back to eating normally again. So I'm still just taking really small, mostly liquid meals, even though I'm hungry.
Any advice?
I’d love some opinions from people in recovery about MyFitnessPal and fitness watches because I’m really conflicted about whether they’re helping me or holding me back.
MyFitnessPal: Sometimes tracking has genuinely helped me realize, “Wow, I actually didn’t eat enough today,” and that has encouraged me to eat more. There have definitely been days where my perception of how much I ate didn’t match reality, so having that data has felt helpful.
But on the other hand, I obsessively log every single meal and everything I eat. I’m still really uncomfortable allowing myself to eat outside of a calorie deficit, and seeing the numbers can create a ceiling in my head. Even if I’m hungry or know my body needs more food, it can be incredibly difficult to go above whatever number I’ve decided is “okay.”
So I’m starting to question whether the occasional benefit of realizing I’ve undereaten is worth having calorie numbers constantly available to me while I’m trying to recover.
Garmin: I love having it for running and being able to see my pace and distance, but wearing it all day means I’m constantly aware of steps, activity, calories burned, etc. I can definitely get fixated on those numbers too, and I’m questioning whether I actually need to know any of that.
Right now I’m considering hiding/deleting MyFitnessPal and stopping wearing my Garmin throughout the day. I may only put the Garmin on when I actually go for a run so I can track my pace/distance and then take it back off.
I also don’t want getting rid of either of them to become another rigid, all-or-nothing recovery rule, which is why I’m curious about other people’s experiences.
For anyone who stopped calorie tracking and/or wearing a fitness tracker during recovery: Did it help? Was the transition difficult? Were there things you genuinely missed or found helpful about having the data? Did anyone find a middle ground that worked for them?
I’d really appreciate hearing both the pros and cons. ❤️