Wednesday, January 19, 2022

Fuck

 Almost to my first goal weight. I’m conflicted, because this round of restricting is the first time I’ve seen real progress (after doing this for 10+ years) and this success is so validating, but I also know that it’s addictive and it’s going to get worse from here.

My fiancé and I were talking my upcoming sleep study. I’ve got horrible sleep apnea and probably need to get a CPAP, but I was telling him that I want to try to lose enough weight to not need one. He reminded me that’s it’s “calories in, calories out” and I told him I know, I’ve lost 20 pounds in two months. I told him everything, about obsessively tracking my calories and averaging about 1000 net calories a day. He didn’t seem concerned and said nothing about that not being enough calories for a toddler, let alone an adult woman with an active job. 

On one hand I’m over the moon that he’s almost supporting my quest to starve myself into an early grave, because it means I don’t have to hide it from him. I don’t like lying to him, even by omission. 

On the other hand I’m pissed that he doesn’t seem to care, but then again I think he used to have an ED too. He’s told me about dropping a shit ton of weight years ago by cutting to 1200 calories a day, but since we’ve gotten together he swings between (estimated) 1000-3000 a day. He got Covid last year and got even skinnier. I’m a solid 100 pounds heavier than him, and I feel disgusting. I look disgusting. He doesn’t touch me nearly as much as he used to, even affectionately, and our sex life is non-existent. He says it’s because of a hormone imbalance, but he makes no effort to get it medically addressed and I know it’s actually because of the way I look. I don’t look in mirrors anymore. I hate everything about myself. I have this ridiculous idea that losing weight is going to fix everything in my life by increasing my confidence but I know that’s not the way it works. 

I don’t know what to do anymore.


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