Thursday, December 22, 2016

Comic relief

Today was my last in person sesh with Charro until next year, so of course she wanted to weigh me.  I wish there was a camera to record how the last 5 minutes of our sesh went.  She opened the door to check if there was anyone in the waiting room.  She didn't see anyone so she grabbed her scale and we walked out.  Well, she turned around because she saw someone and I bolted back into the room and dove, head first, onto her couch.  I was like, "Did they see you?  Did they see the scale?"  She said, "It was just Rebecca.  Do you know Rebecca?"  No, I don't know Rebecca (therapist in an office two over from her).  Ugh.  She told me I was going to have to weigh myself on Bertha and report back to her and promise to be honest about it.  I told her she should just try the scale in her office again, so we did.  I weighed 59 lbs. LOL.  Then she thought about putting it on the chair (at the "kitchen" table, as I call it) and I told her to do it and I'd climb up there.  I've told her that in the past.  She hesitated but then finally agreed.  Well, I weighed 49, 50 and 52 lbs without even moving.  HA!!  I told her I'd hide the scale under my jacket and go into the bathroom and weigh myself.  She agreed to that but the scale wouldn't fit under my jacket so that idea got nixed.  I got all ready to leave and then there was no one out there so I told her she could weigh me.  I went out there with my winter coat and my Santa hat, equipped with lights, and all my gear on and hopped on the scale.  It's so incredibly pointless because I weigh 4000 more pounds with all of that stuff on so she really has so idea what my actual weight it.  It's not 109.8, which is what the scale said.  I told her to take off 5 pounds, which is still about 5 pounds more than I weigh.  So really, this weighing me told her nothing, but it was pretty comical.

Tuesday, December 20, 2016

I get annoyed

I used to surround myself with disordered people and now I want nothing to do with them.  Funny how that works.  I'm not saying that I'm no longer disordered, but I can't stand being with people who have an eating disorder.  I find them to be super annoying.  If I am with disordered people, especially around food, I'm super conscious that it's probably hard for them and don't want to make them uncomfortable, because I've been there.  

Let's be honest here, I'm not super sympathetic and I just get annoyed by people.  I don't get annoyed by those who are silently struggling, but those, and I'm going to guess that it's mostly younger people, like teens, who flaunt that fact that they have an ED.  I always tried to hide it.  I wouldn't talk about calories or weight or anything like that in front of anyone, unless it was one of my other disordered friends, because I didn't want to tip people off to the fact that I had an issue.  I think kids think it's cool to be disordered and kind of flaunt it.

I'm not quite sure where this tangent came from, but I do know that I get annoyed by eating disordered people.  Maybe that's a good sign for me.

In other news, Charro is going to WIF me on Thursday, which would make it WIT.  This will only happen if no one is out in the waiting room, since she weighs me out there.  Love that.  I'll make sure to wear my heavy boots. :)