I will never forget when I read a comment pertaining to a teen cutting. The comment was "you better not be! You're better than that!". It is this ignorance that keeps those struggling in silence. Mental illnesses have nothing to do with someone being better than the next. Fighting a mental illness doesn't make you less than. And sadly only those that truly understand what it feels like are those that have been there.
Lately I have been trying my hardest to wear my struggle behind a smile and to show the world that I am ok. In all reality I am not at my best, but I really am trying my best. I'm fighting again and have really been trying to hide it. I have always turned to writting to keep me grounded through my storms. I told my husband that I just couldn't blog this one out like I do with everything else. He asked me why not?! Why couldn't I be transparent through this and hope to help another feel less alone, just as I have with everything else? I have been affraid to speak.
The number on the scale pulls me. It is a deep burning pain in my chest. Many know I have struggled with eating disorders through out my adolescence and early adult life, few know it will remain a lifetime battle with the occasional slip. Mental illnesses are much deeper than what is seen on the surface. Often I wonder if it is even real. And then I find myself sobbing and unable to breathe having a full blown panic attack for no reason. To feel the constant fight with the small voice in your head and to give all your energy to just fight back and hold your ground. Sometimes the voice wins and you stumble. To feel at war with yourself. Some days are easier than others.
I feared gaining weight to perform the liposuction and fat transfer to complete my post mastectomy reconstruction would be difficult. In fact, I know myself well enough that I knew it wouldn't be easy. I never anticipated it being this hard though. I had felt I had finally killed this demon. Turns out I had only found a way to coexist with it. I have a daughter and a husband, I have so much to live for and so much to give the world. I want to be healthy!! I want to be strong. I eat, and those that know me would laugh and contest my ability to outeat anybody! What many don't know is that I have made 105lbs my safety net for the past 5 years. I could eat what I wanted to as long as I never went over this number. 101 is where I feel most comfortable but 105 was the cut off. As soon as that number crept up I would become more cautious with my food choices to ensure I wouldn't come out on the other side. To some this number sounds sickeningly small, but for my size it is actually right in the healthy weight range for me. I know because I did my research when setting this goal. I know that I have to be a strong positive example for my daughter, and I promised my husband I would be healthy, so I made healthy my goal. I became an avid runner, I lifted weights, I ate what I needed to keep up with my activity level and keep me building muscle. I felt strong, I felt in control, I felt amazing! I felt that I had won!!! That is until I began my weight gain journey.
To admit that this isn't easy for me leaves me feeling small. The idea that I made it through infertility and loss, a hysterectomy and double mastectomy in my 28 years of life and am doing just fine but can't wrap my mind around gaining fat!? It sounds so trivial! It isn't a big deal! Why is it such a big deal?! I don't understand why it is so hard for me. I'm so dedicated to making it through this chapter of my reconstruction that I have been forcing myself to eat when not hungry, eating unhealthy foods to pack on the fat and really trying. I want to prove to myself that I am stronger than this thing, I can't wait to be on the other side. I thought I had this one in the bag. Then I weighed myself and saw I had lost some of what I had gained. I was failing. I typically buy healthy food choices and eat well, so buying Ice cream feels like a waste of money to me, like an unnecessary treat. Consuming unhealthy food choices on a regular basis is against everything I've grown used to in my quest to be healthy. I have began to feel my relationship with food shift and the change left me feeling as if I had spun out of control. I have been fighting bad panic attacks and feel a push and pull between positive optimistic me, and the darkness that dwells within. I try to hide that part of me. I had thought I was doing a great job until a co-worker confronted me asking if I was ok. When I had smiled and told her yes, she said nothing, but gave me a hug. Later I thanked her and told her what was going on. It was her hug that made me feel less alone, even when she didn't know what I was going through. Her acceptance and my husband's advice are what fueled me to write this blog. Our minds are the reasons we go through life suffering through mental battles alone. The fear that the stigmas surrounding them will haunt us and allow us to be alienated. I am writting this blog to tell you all that I am struggling, and I am ok. I am human much like the rest of you. We all have our battles. This is my story, and it isn't over yet; don't be affraid to let the world take part in yours. You don't have to be alone.