The Skeleton in my Closet

There will be people out there who call me irresponsible for writing this about myself but I am so so over looking after everyone else first. This needs saying out loud for me. So this is a trigger warning please do not read on if you are sensitive about stuff related to food, body image and eating disorders.

Before I start this blog I have to disclaim. I am actually medically obese, not just a little bit over bmi, not just in my head, no I am actually fat and incredibly unfit. I have been on an epic amount of steroids, my work schedule has been insane, I've spent much of the year with broken bones or faulty lungs (not to mention shingles) and I haven't been careful enough with my eating and exercise to avoid the inevitable gain of being mostly immobile or stressed out of my skull. I am fat - that is a medical fact.

There comes a point in every fat girls life where she cant angle out of a bad selfie. There comes a point in every fat girls life when she is confronted with the truth, 'no, it's your fat that makes you look fat'. There comes a point where you have to admit to yourself... this isn't recovery, it's denial.  That is extremely difficult for me to say, not because of what I weigh but because of who I am. I am the director of an eating disorder charity who suffered with those conditions for.... well a very long time. So we don't say the F word..... EVER......even when it's true. I NEED TO LOSE WEIGHT. There I said it, it is now a medical imperative that I do. The last doctor I saw said I wouldn't see 40 if I carried on with my lifestyle the way it was.

I NEED TO LOSE WEIGHT. The thing is that this has been an absolute truth in my fucked up brain when I really didn't, when I had an ITA, lost my teeth, my kidney function, when I was rake thin and severely, severely mentally ill. Its the same sentiment from a different point of view, under different circumstances, 7 years off the last time that statement was the furthest from reality. When my weight was diagnostically anorexic.

I NEED TO LOSE WEIGHT is now empirically true. I know exactly how I've ended up in this position, ironically it's not by overeating it's by being completely inconsistent. When I'm working (ie all the time) and therefore am stressed I find it very difficult eat properly and at the right times, some days I will go to 9pm before realising that I've not eaten, I'm hypothyroid so I can't get away with that, it confuses my system and when I do eat unsurprisingly my body stores. I can pretty much eat what I want, as long as I'm consistent I lose weight, so my haphazard eating isn't an eating disorder thing. I am doing the exact opposite to what my body needs for my weight to stabilise. As I sit here typing I am 7lbs down from the 14th, purely because I'm around people who do eat appropriately and encourage me to do the same. 

However as you can imagine, that statement causes panic. I might as well say 'I NEED TO DRIVE THE WRONG WAY DOWN THE MOTORWAY' My loved ones are quick to remind me of all my achievements, successes and accolades and I understand that they want me to feel proud of myself but empirically that doesn't mean anything to the state of my health as defined by my weight.  They are rightly terrified by the notion of me being preoccupied with the number on the scale. I find it so easy to lose any semblance of normality and focus only on 'that number', the number down the rabbit hole which can never be reached. In the words of Thom Yorke 'I've got Myxomatosis'.

But I can't run from it now, I need to lose weight. I saw myself on TV recently, my family were so proud, all I could think was FUCK seeing someone my size would have put me off recovering and that is.... fact. I don't look like I should be telling anyone about being healthy, and that is a dreadful position for me to be in, but one I finally need to face. 

SO please don't molly coddle me, I need to own this and say it when it's actually true so that I know when it's not, it doesn't matter that 'my skin and hair are looking great' or that 'I'm doing a phd'. I... am.... fat. That is something I have to deal with, honestly, without bullshit and (however warranted) paranoia. It is, I might add not the only thing that needs rethinking. My stress levels need to be reduced, my work schedule needs a revamp, my liver could do with a break and I am already on the road to being cigarette free. 

Most importantly I don't want to be a hypocrite any more, I want to know that when I go out there and talk about food and eating disorders and diabulimia as an 'expert' that I am in the best place mentally and physically that I can be and just now I'm not. I'm stressed, overworked, unfit, fat and miserable about where I find myself.

Yes there is a skeleton in my closet but she won't be making a reappearance if I and those around me can be sensible and honest.