I remember the first time I hit a goal weight
I felt like I could fly
I’ve lost weight, I’ve lost all the weight
I thought I’d lose the anxiety too
I thought I’d lose the sadness too
I thought I’d lose the food obsessed thoughts too
Now that I had finally lost the weight
I lost hair
Loads of hair
Just coming out in the shower in clumps, every time I brushed my hair, clumps, every time my boyfriend brushed his hand through my hair, clumps.
I lost my smile and my laugh
Not because I couldn’t smile
But my teeth looked grey and dull
Every smile I did allow felt forced and fake and uncomfortable
You have no time to laugh when you are busy counting calories
You have no time to laugh when you are alone doing sit ups in your room on a Friday night
There is nothing to smile about anymore except for the thought of the weight I lost
I lost my memory
Did I leave my keys in my car again?
Is today Monday or Tuesday?
Did I text you back?
I know I studied for this, I know I read this somewhere, I saw it on the blackboard it was in my notebook but I just can’t remember.
And these were the memories that I got
Forget the memories I never made
The plans I cancelled to spend more time in the gym or learning how to make fat free grain free dairy free life free tofu patties that I wouldn’t even eat
The memories I do have are of my friends getting annoyed at me at dinner or lunch, texting their other friends “I hate being around her” “she needs help”
The memories I do have are the number of calories in ketchup
I lost my teens and early twenties
Becoming fixated on the weight I lost
The weight I still needed to lose
I lost out on chances because you cannot open your wings and fly when you are constrained to a hospital bed
I lost out on going out and dancing with my friends at a bar because do you know how many calories were in your late night snacks and your so called lite beers?
I lost boyfriends and girlfriends because screw you if you tried to get between me and my scale
I did not get to enjoy the things people my age enjoyed because that meant leaving the comfort of my bed and it is really hard to get up out of bed when you haven’t eaten in god knows how long
I lost myself
I lost my identity
I became my disorder
She engulfed me like a forest fire in the middle of June
Who could I be without my anorexia?
Someone boring telling a story about how beautiful I was when I was smaller?
Someone boring telling a story about how much she sucked the life out of me?
Who can I be without my anorexia?
Someone telling you “you can get better!” When I’m not even sure if I believe that bullshit
I lost a lot of hope and I gained a lot of fear
Fear of foods and fear of crowds and fear of human interaction because what if you see something I see? How can I live life knowing you might see an imperfect human too?
I lost a lot more than weight.
And the only thing i can really gain back is weight.
What a sick joke.
Can’t gain back missed time.
No memories no missed chances no happy moments that passed by too quickly.
But you lost weight.