Tonight after work I decided to break my routine of coming home and bingeing and purging. I decided to go to the mall instead and buy some new clothes for work as I am sorely in need of things to wear outside the studio that aren’t sweat pants. I went a little bit crazy in H&M (probably like a binge but with clothes) and grabbed a dress, a skirt, a pair of pants, 3 blouses, 2 blazers and a belt. I can always justify spending money on clothing and I thought I had managed to put several outfits together from these basics making it even more worthwhile.
I didn’t try anything on at the store. The thought of the changing room mirrors and the fluorescent lights bouncing off my cellulite riddled thighs was more than I could stomach. I grabbed everything in a size 4 or a small (which is the size that I wear in every other chain store), gulped as I signed the visa bill and came home proud of myself that I had done something positive for myself.
Disaster struck immediately. I raced upstairs, tipped all the clothes from the bag and put on my highest heels. Nothing fit. Nothing. I wriggled the skirt up like my life depended on it and eventually managed to get the zipper up after I caught my hip fat a few times. I swore like a sailor. I looked like a sausage roll. My flesh was squeezed into the outfit so that it looked like it had been spray painted on my body and had an eerily similar look to cling wrap. I tried the blouses on and they pulled across my bust. The blazers would not button up. The pants did not make it past my knees and no matter how much I blasphemed, nothing changed. The dress was the only thing that fit. Yippee. It was dull and shapeless (which is probably why it fit), and at this point I was so mad that I knew I would return everything tomorrow. Just for good measure I tried the belt on. It didn’t fit because it was so big that it wrapped twice around my waist. At this point I thought I might cry from the irony (?) of everything being too small except the damned belt which was too big.
In a fit of temper I ripped all the clothes off my hideously over-sized body and threw them back in the bag. I stared at my disgusting flesh in the mirror. Two weeks of starving, puking and exercising have done nothing for me. My brain cannot understand it. How can I easily fit a size 4 except in that store and except for today of all days? How can I be this huge despite all my efforts to the contrary? Trying to break the binge/purge cycle by rewarding myself with a shopping spree ended up back firing. I’m sitting here debating several options for the evening now: go for a walk to blow off steam, give in to the urge to eat everything I can see and then throw it up, or cry myself to sleep.
Maybe my self-worth is not defined by the size of my pants, but try explaining that one to ED!