I went shopping for pants last night after splitting my (fat) pants last week. I wrote an article about it because it was so traumatic.
Do you want to know what else is traumatic? Shopping for clothes when you have ED and when every day for the last twenty years has been a fat day. I grabbed my girlfriend and went to my favourite store where I ran around like a maniac and grabbed a handful of items. Part of being completely crazy is my refusal to try clothes on in the dressing room. There is nothing worse than staring at my fat and cellulite under white, strip lighting whilst trying to wriggle my ass into pants that won’t go past my calves. The reason that they won’t go past my calves is because I refuse to buy pants in a bigger size than the size I want to be or deem acceptable.
Last night that size was 26. I found a pair of black skinny jeans that were a size 26 and took them home. Once at home I had to perform some acrobatic manoeuvres in order so squeeze into them. Luckily they were made of stretchy material. Once I got them on, I went to sleep in them in the hopes that by this morning they would fit rather than look like they had been spray painted onto me. Did I mention that I am crazy?
I wore my new pants to work today with a looser blouse to disguise my gut that was seeping over the top of them. Unfortunately, I caught sight of myself in the studio mirrors and it was not flattering. I think I am in denial about the amount of weight I have gained in the last two months. I can see it but I can’t accept it.
I have gone 48 hours on vegan protein powder, fruit and a lot of coffee. I have thrown in a handful of popcorn for good measure. After work, despite the tightness of my pants, I drove to the nearest store and filled up on binge food. Better luck tomorrow on my latest starvation kick.