I need to put this here. I need to tell you that it’s about anorexia, anxiety, and garb, and all the things that have gone with it for me, including a recent (but very itty bitty) relapse. If you don’t want to read about my literal navel-gazing, that’s fine, move ‘long. Love you.
So, this page. This is where I’m at right now. I am looking down at my belly and seeing nothing but bloat, and I feel so strange because all of a sudden, being on the right meds for my anxiety/probable hypomania, I am eating a little more like I did on Remeron, only not as ravenously. Just. Normal hunger signals for human beings. Approximately one filling meal about three times a day, and a snack here and there. I’m not noshing between meals, though I am drinking Pepsi. This is what that one physician was getting at with the Remeron, however inadvertently and incompetently (no, you don’t give stimulants to the anxious the same way you don’t increase the serotonin levels in someone who experiences SSRI-related hypomania).
But from that low during the Cold that Would Not Die, that 82 pounds that sort of scared and thrilled me at once, I gained to 89. I’m tiny. I’m not used to this. Sure, I did it once, after going most of my adult life without finishing puberty. Then I had a giant freakout, had to discontinue Remeron, which was the withdrawal from hell, no wonder I lost the weight I’d gained within half a year. I was more okay with the weight gain in 2011 because I wasn’t mid-relapse. Even a tiny relapse makes a difference in how you experience the gain. I am staring at my belly, wondering when I will stop looking pregnant, and nobody else sees it. I am waiting for the fat around my stomach to redistribute. Come on, boobs, last time we made it all the way to a Tanner V! Will we ever achieve an entire A-cup? I’m not sure where or when it stops, either; will I somehow cease to gain at some point, if my appetite doesn’t change? I can’t track calories easily. No food scale, and I don’t cook to recipes. I kind of throw things onto other things at random and either eat them or cook and eat them. I could photograph my meals on a given day and show them to a nutritionist? [shrug]
I want to make a new gown for Coronation, simple lines, laces up the front. Coronation is late April. When do I start sewing? Now, and expect that whatever laces shut now will show my chemise in April? Early March, but farm out the seams to someone who can reliably work a sewing machine? (Those things seize up when I try. I’m sorry if I’ve busted your bobbins, y’all.) I want it relatively tight, but if I have to go Burgundian with the high waist and the faux-fur trim, fine, whatever, I’ll make it work. I just wanted to show me off because I have a habit of looking a bit like I’m wearing a tent. Goes with being built like a bird up to now! I have beautiful fabric and I do not want to waste it. Especially since I have enough of it right now to clothe myself. I have yards of green linen that would help stretch it, but this greeny-goldy prettiness is just divine. I could make the undergown of the other green linen — yes, I bought two kinds — muslin it out first, all in basting stitches? Or fly blind, that’s yielded fine results before. Maybe do up a good summer chemise out of the muslin.
What I want is a Y membership so I can stay in shape by swimming and doing water aerobics, but whatever, it’s out of the budget at the moment because my fscking psych can’t take ONE long-term loyal Medicaid patient, I’ll just [flail] I dunno what even to do with myself when it’s this cold. Exercising alone sucks. Exercising alone in the cold sucks balls. Not to put too fine a point on it. I like the water exercise; it doesn’t hurt as much as machines at a gym, and it’s less boring. I feel free in the water to invent little dance routines. Combine water ballet with ankle weights? Yes, staying in the shallow end for that. And Five Below and Michaels both sell kickboards for deep-end stuff, though what I really want is a pool noodle. I liked looping a pool noodle around my back and using it to kick myself through the water. A pool noodle just long enough to hold my body, that wouldn’t be unobtrusive. You call it a toy, I call it therapeutic equipment. And so did my PT, that one winter. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a standing date with the pool? Two days a week and a Saturday? That sounds divine to me. It also sounds healthy.
Breathe. No business trying until after IP/OP. Do your IP/OP and then you’ll see. But I do wish I had some idea what my body would look like at the end of all this. I didn’t take too many selfies that spring of 2012.