I gave up on AN.
Somewhere these past few weeks I gave up on the urge of going back to restriction and the urge of letting AN in again. The thought still surfaces every now and then, but the drive (&even desire!) to let it take back over has passed. I had gotten so damn tired of it. Now, even after a binge, I just continue my day. I don’t ‘make up’ for things, I don’t let ED ‘sort it out for now’. I let it be.
Because, really. I’ve been there, done that, bought the Tshirt and it no longer fits.
I also discovered I gained 5k more. Which means I’m now back to my old weight. A weight I haven’t been for…. 3 years? Hm. Yes, it also means I stepped on the scale again (I was at my parents’ house and gave in to the damn thing again..). And yes, I admit, I freaked out. I also fit into ‘those jeans’ again. The one I was most certain of I would never grow into evereverever again. Not just because I didn’t WANT to grow into them again, but really because I thought I would never be able to gain THAT much. Ever. And yes, I freaked me out some more. But now I bought a top to go with it and I’ll be wearing them to a party with a whole lot of people I haven’t seen in quite a bit tonight. Yes, that makes nervous. Especially since the party is of a dear friend moving to the States, and his entire soccer-team +more guy friends will be there, and I will be going alone. But I also know it’ll be okay. It’ll even bring me some approving guy-nods. And they’ll be drunk like shit, so probably, it’ll bring me even more than approving nods. And even that’s okay. I’ll just grin and pretend to like the new (= old) body too. I’m already getting used to it, who knows I’ll someday get to appreciate it too… Who knows.