Day Fourty.

i decided that today i will do a little over share, since recently i feel like i have been letting you down. i am a person who has very high walls made of super strong magical concrete. i rarely let anyone in, and when i do, youre in for good. i dont have many close friends for that reason. i dont deal with other peoples drama, because i simply dont want to be sucked in and have it affect my life. i have enough going on. and let me tell you, this is extremely hard for me to type out, and let everyone read.

i was diagnosed with body dysmorphic disorder when i was about 19/20 years old. i have struggled with anorexia pretty much my entire life, before i even knew what it was. i was cutting back calories and playing outside until it was pitch black back before it was cool. i was obsessive about not going over a certain number, and when i did i punished myself. my husband saved me from that, whether he knows it or not. (now he does...) i was in a pretty crappy relationship before michael and i started dating, and that relationship only made my eating habits worse. i am 5'4 and when michael and i started dating, i barely weighed 100lbs. and the only reason i did was because i had recently started working at fedex, so i had gained some muscle that i didnt have before, haha. the person i was with before constantly said i was chubby, or he would point out my skin "rolls" when i was sitting down. looking back, i cant believe i ever listened to him and believed him. i bought jeans in the kids department and i prided myself on that. i had to have american eagle order size 00 because they only carried down to a 0 in the store, but an 00 in the catalogue. i might have even bragged about being that thin. i was the girl that people said was "too skinny" and that made me happy. i dont think i really ever looked sick, as i was careful with that.

being with michael is healthy for me. at my lowest point i weighed roughly 86lbs at age 18/19. i was admitted to the hospital multiple times to have a feeding tube inserted because i simply refused to eat. someone asked me once if this had anything to do with my parents divorce, and i can honestly say no. my parents divorce affected me, yes. but it didnt affect my already there eating disorder.

my parents separated my senior year of high school, 2003. but they were emotionally separated long before that, we all noticed even though they tried to hide it. i never blamed my parents for anything and everything that went wrong in their marriage. some things just dont work out, and i was okay with that from the beginning. dont get me wrong, i was upset and hurt. but i was also 17 and i thought i was invincible and i would just hang out with my friends forever and not have to face reality. reality was the fact that i was broken. i was sad, and i turned to controlling food once again. it was something i could control in an extremely uncontrollable world.

fast forward to recently... when michael and i decided to add a baby into our lives, i was excited, but really scared at the same time. it was probably the biggest mental challenge i have ever had to go through. even though i never showed it. i was terrified of gaining weight. absolutely terrified. i cried a lot the first couple months when i was in the chubby awkward stage of not quite looking pregnant but not quite looking thin. once i hit about month 6 i became more okay with it, and just had to let it go. i knew i needed to gain weight and i knew i could, easily. there was one doctor appointment where my doctor said i had a little jump in my weight, then he followed that up with saying i should start walking in the evenings. way to make me feel like a lardo. of course i laughed and joked about it, because thats what i do when my feelings are hurt and someone made me feel like crap. so what did i do? ate more. its not like he was the one who had to worry about getting the weight off.

addison is now 5 months old and i weigh about 130. that is 20lbs too much. i hate it. i look in the mirror and i cry. i cry when i get dressed. i cry when i go shopping. i know i can workout, its just the lack of motivation. its so much easier to just not eat. but i refuse to let myself do that, because once it starts, it doesnt end. i take it too far, and i know that now.

i also have a slight case of OCD. as much as people joke about it, its true. i make lists for everything, i am a little too organized, i like certain things certain ways. for example, i make sure all the doors are shut at night, the toilet lid has to be down, i cant have my bed facing the door, and i cant sleep closest to the door, the list goes on.

this isnt a cry for help, or a pity me story. dont pity me or feel bad for me. i am doing fine, i promise. you can treat me the same way you already do :)

and dont tell me i look fine. that just makes me feel fat and gross.

the end.