After just one day of writing this journal, I’m scared. Am I showing signs of an
eating disorder? What if documenting all this fuels an unhealthy obsession with
exercise and food?
I woke up feeling dizzy, so I decided not to exercise this
morning. The glass of water I had this morning helped with the dizziness, but I
didn’t eat much for breakfast. Sometimes eggs just don’t agree with me and I
feel sick, so I just had two bites. Normally, this wouldn’t worry me. I know a
few healthy people (including one great nurse/health professor) who don’t eat
breakfast.
Student: Can you explain
(to the class) why breakfast is the “most important meal of the day?”
Nurse/Health Professor:
No. Honestly, I don’t believe it. I don’t eat breakfast, and haven’t for years
and look at me! As long as you’re snacking right, and eating good food
throughout the day, it doesn’t matter when you have your first meal.
Okay, so the answer didn’t go exactly like that, but I
didn’t write what she said word for word when she said it so of course I don’t
know what she said word for word. I promise, though, that this is extremely
close to what she said. I didn’t add my own interpretation to the quote. Also,
what my professor said, doesn’t mean that all of a sudden I don’t believe all
those health articles that claim it’s important to eat breakfast every morning.
It just means that I know there’s another opinion out there, and I need to
decide for myself what’s healthy.
Anyway, as I mentioned earlier, normally not having much of
a breakfast wouldn’t scare me, but today it does. Since I got dizzy this
morning when I woke up, and I didn’t eat anything until 11:30am (I wake up
every morning at 6:30-7am), I’m worried that my body won’t be getting enough
nutrients and all that good stuff today.
Speaking of the word “enough,” I’m terrified that this
unhealthy relationship with my body will never end. I keep sucking in my
stomach and looking in the mirror. I keep telling myself, “Once I get to this
point without having to suck in my stomach, I will be happy.” I don’t want to
be telling myself this anymore. I hate those words and I want them out of my
head. I know that what I see in the mirror shouldn’t be the source of my happiness
and self-worth.
When it comes to victims of anorexia, enough
never arrives. I just hope it does for
me.
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