Hello my lovelies! How I have missed you. I used to be a lurker and sometimes commenter on this group, thanks to you guys I managed to go from 220 pounds to a healthy 145, back in 2017 . Thank you all for that, this is such a positive and constructive group and I wish you all success and happiness, you deserve it.
This story may be a bit triggering for those in recovery from an ED. Take care of yourself, it aint worth it.
Now... the story. The 145 were good, my weight hadnt been so low since middle school, but I wanted to go lower. I wanted to see how low I could go. After 140 the pounds stopped dropping. I started obsessing with lowering the number on the scale, it quickly became a number game, a "how low can my calories be today" game. Exercising and healthy eating became walking all my free time and using drugs to keep myself from eating. My lowest was 115 pounds, and I looked like a Tim Burton character, but worse. It got so bad even my poor cat had her food carefully measured so she wouldnt gain any weight either. (Dont worry she was never underfed, just fed the precise amount she needed for her age and weight, she now gets tins and all the food she wants).
Then I met my boyfriend who after a couple of dates noticed how bad my eating habits were, and started slowly introducing me to a healthier way of eating. Sounds great right? Well... in his beautifully misguided attempts to "heal" me, he thought that the healthy way for me to eat was to feed me what he ate, the same amounts and all. Well he is a 6 foot 190 pound hunk of muscle, who exercises for 2 hours everyday. While I am a 5'4 woman with an office job who's most extrenous activity is walking 2 blocks to the store. I did everything he asked of me as of course I was inlove and looove can cure anything riiight? What could go wrong?
All that could go wrong went wrong, it was like my body had been holding itself with string and as soon as some nutrition came in all hell broke lose. My stomach couldnt handle any food, I got the worse gas you can imagine, I got alergies, asma, reflux, everything bloated me and finally my freaking ovarie exploded due to several cysts that the idiot doctors that "treated" me misdiagnosed as "just a girl who wants to score pain medication". I was in bed for 3 months after that, my boyfriend did really come through tho and he took care of all me all that time. He also started reading up on calories and nutrition and figured out that his approach, although well intentioned, hadn't been the best.
Fast forward 2 years and we are sitting at a friend's wedding. I am devastated because I had to wear a dress that smells like mold. It had been sitting in the back of my closet for years, and it was the only one that fit. We had an argument and I am now aggressively shoving wedding cake into my mouth to calm myself. His friends are looking at me like I am insane, although i cant blame them, I would also be confused at someone bawling her eyes out while eating (more like furiously consuming) cake and khalua, in a moldy dress, all because she cant go dance. I just wanted to dance so I could burn off the first stupid slice of cake, now I have shoved in 2 more to calm the anger and sadness. I had weighted 158 pounds that morning, 43 pounds heavier that when we started dating.
I considered the "cake incident" a new low, that paired with a very nasty encounter with a "friend" who saw fit to point out to all her friends how fat I had gotten and actually make fun of me for it, pushed me to start losing weight again. I wrote down everything I ate and walked everyday after work. I live in a very dangerous city so I was really playing with fate in those walks, but it didnt matter. I was gonna lose that weight goddamit, even if it cost me everything.
I went down to 140 pounds. I wasn't super happy as my goal was still those 115, but I felt better. Then the pandemic hit. At first it wasnt so bad, I was working from home and I could work out with my boyfriend, whom at this point understood nutrition better and did his best to manage my fluctuating relationship with food.
During lockdown I was transfered to another position in the company I worked for. It was more challenging but the change was refreshing. I was crushing it at my new job, my eating was the best ever as I was cooking every meal and I had time to work out every morning before work. It was all going great, so when a new position opened up, I decided to apply. It was more money, an earlier shcedule and doing something that had always interested me. Again... what could go wrong?
I got the job. Now 7 months later it has been the hardest thing I have ever done. The level of stress was so high, my hair started to fall out, I started smoking again and I had no time to cook so we had to order take out almost every day. It is better now and we got some new people and the load has spread out, but for 5 months all I could do was sit 16+ hours on my desk everyday, order food and empty my pantry every time my bosses' boss treated me like an idiot for not guessing what he wanted me to do even tho he said he wanted something completely different. This job demolished my mental stability, my body, my relationship and I havent even gotten the raise I was promised. However awful, I am still thankful I had a job during this hard times. I understand a lot were not that lucky.
This whooole story has brought me to you today, weighing 175 pounds, with my soul crushed and totally lost on what to do. The worse part is I've been here before. It should be easy right? Just do what worked before. But it isnt! I cant! I cant get myself to stop eating until I feel like bursting, or from grabbing 2 or 3 or 4 cookies everytime work gets hard or to just record my darn calories! Why am I lost in this endless labyrinth of food and lazyness and sadness and anger and regret? Please any guidance would be great.
If you got here thank you for reading. Wish you the best and any comments are greatly appreciated.
TL;DR - Lost 100 pounds, first 70 or so were great, this sub helped a lot and they were lost in a healthy way. Last 30 were lost in a super unhealthy way, via ED behavior. Got into a new relationship that "fixed" it by eating what my large, muscular and super active boyfriend ate. Gained 43 pounds, had a cake meltdown at a wedding. Lost 18 pounds, by measuring food and taking dangerous walks in the city. Pandemic hit, changed job, got a promotion and new job's stress destroyed my mental health and gained me 35 pounds. Now I can't reel back my eating habits and could use some guidance.
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source https://www.reddit.com/r/loseit/comments/lpgu8t/rant_lost_100_pounds_gained_50_back_after/
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