** Sorry, this is a late post. It’s past weekend…but in my defense, I haven’t been feeling too well. It’s been raining/pouring 3 days straight here in Southern California, and like any other Angeleno, I’m going out of whack from sunshine withdrawal, and my sleep schedule is showing it.
This post is the fourth installment of the weekend series I’m doing on my story on Eating Disorders. If you are interested and would like to catch up, please check out my previous posts:
1) Acceptance
And as always, if you have any thoughts or experiences to share, please do. I’d really appreciate it. **
Strangely, I was never one of those who weighed myself constantly.
My family never once kept a scale in the house. There was no need to, because none of us needed to watch our weight. Thus the only time I weighed myself was once a year during the physical check-ups in P.E. class. And even then, I didn’t really care about my weight.
As I slid down the seductive pole of Anorexia, my obsession was mainly on food, exercise, and calories. I didn’t care much if I was losing, so long as I didn’t gain. This was one of the reason why I was in denial about my eating disorder— I never thought I was fat. I never really wanted to lose weight. I knew I was skinny. I was just…"controlled about what I ate” (sound familiar?). Thus I can’t be Anorexic, can I?
There was a brief period of time when I realized that I was getting scarily thin. I saw a picture of my back when I was wearing a halter top at home, and I got a shock. Oh my God, am I really that thin? I gasped silently, suddenly wondering if maybe…what I was doing was dangerous. So, very wisely (and I say so with all sarcasm), I decided to go into “maintenance mode” instead, because the idea of actually gaining terrified me.
Of course, maintenance never happened. I just kept on losing. And inwardly, I was aware of that fact, but at some point I decided I really didn’t care. I’m ugly anyway, I thought bitterly. What does it matter?
Unfortunately, weight isn’t just about beauty. It’s about healthy, plump organs and strong bones and a regularly functioning body. But at some point in my disorder, I stopped caring about my health, too. That’s what ED does to you. It makes you stop caring about everything except your maniacal eating regimens.
Fast forward to that first morning after the day I was discharged from the hospital.
By then I was very clear about exactly how much I weighed. During my 5-day stint in the hospital, the nurses weighed me daily at 7 a.m. in my hospital gown. And that number slyly slid into the center of my mind and lodged itself into it.
My parents bought a scale at CVS to keep track of my weight gain process. We kept it in the cabinet at the bathroom on the first floor.
From someone who didn’t give a hoot about numbers in weight, overnight I turned into someone who was always acutely aware of the presence of that scale. I guess it was because suddenly, I had no control over what and how much I would be eating. I knew for a fact that my parents would see to it that I would gain, and I needed to know—exactly—how much I was gaining. I just…needed to know—and hopefully, have some control over the rate I was gaining.
I want to make clear that at that stage of my eating disorder, I actually did want to gain. I was a senior in high school, with a few months left till graduation. I had just discharged myself against doctor’s orders from the hospital, and I was desperate to send a “F**k You” message to them by getting well. I was ashamed by how much hurt I had caused my family, and I wanted to make them happy.
But I had a clear plan. Of course I had a plan. I had read up on all the ED-recovery books I could find, both in the library and online, and determined that I would be totally okay with gaining 1-2 lbs per week. That, I calculated, would take me about 25-30 weeks to reach my goal weight. A nice, slow, steady pace. Yes, I could deal with that. Uh-huh.
Except. The day after my discharge, I got up early in the morning, and stood on our new scale…and discovered I had gained 5 lbs. In one night.
I freaked out. Actually, outwardly, I was very very calm. I got off the scale, put it neatly back into the cabinet, and told my parents that I had gained 5 lbs. My parents rejoiced. I faked a smile. But all the while, there was a raging beast inside my chest shrieking and stomping and clawing in horrified fury.
That day, I was no longer the subservient ED patient who ate up everything my mother put before me. I tried to find ways to coax my mom into serving me less.
“My stomach hurts,” I complained.
“I need time to digest,” I said.
“I’m still really, really full,” I lied.
The whole freaking day, I was in a silent mission to eat as little as possible. I had sadly lost sight of the real goal to my recovery. It shouldn’t just be to gain weight, but to relinquish my control issues and recover back a normal relationship with food. But in a moment of panic, I’d lost direction. Instead, I started to drag my feet, pull back, and try to prolong this recovery process as much as possible. All because of a few numbers on the scale.
I weighed myself every morning from then on for about 3 years. It was a daily ritual. I woke up early in the morning, with the first thought being: how much do I weigh today? The numbers on the scale would determine my mood for the day. If I had gained beyond my comfort level, I would be antsy and angry all day. If I had lost, I would recover back my “will” to recover, and start eating a bit more. It was just a tired, annoying cycle.
My recovery didn’t take a definite turn until I gave up my obsession with the scale (a long, long time later). And by my personal experience, I would recommend throwing away that scale to those who are recovering from an eating disorder.
You see, after I stopped weighing myself religiously, I gradually stopped analyzing everything I ate, wondering how many pounds that would equal to. I stopped equating that extra piece of toast to the extra pound I may have gained the next day. Weight slowly ceased to be mechanical numbers I could control, but a slow restoration of my mental and physical strength. It is scary to see a bigger numerical number pop up on the cold scale, but less scary to feel a tiny bit more energy the next morning.
I know, I know. Weight certainly is a huge part of recovery. But let’s not kid ourselves. We’ll know. We’ll know if we were consistently losing. And we’ll know if we were consistently gaining. But weighing, and letting yourself keep track of the numbers…most likely, you’ll just be opening a Pandora’s box.
My suggestion is that you let someone else keep track of the numbers, like your doctor or parents. And as for you, just keep track of the other details in your recovery—like whether you challenged yourself with a fear food today, or whether you broke one of your “rules” and so on.
And by the way…that 5 lbs I gained overnight? In no way could it have been pure fat! I can say that now, but at that time? My mind was too messed up and illogical to fully comprehend that. I logically knew it, of course, but emotionally, I just couldn’t handle it.
Which is again why, I say, leave the weighty issues to someone else. Go on. Go to your scale right now, and bash the hell out of it. It’ll be your first step to giving up that unhealthy obsession to control.
Questions to Ponder:
1) Do you still weigh yourself regularly?
2) If you do, why do you think you feel the need to do that? And if you don’t, what difference has that made to you?
3) What does weight mean to you?
Related posts:
{ 43 comments… read them below or add one }
I purposely don’t own a scale because numbers are so easy to get hung up on. I’m always heavier when I am my healthiest, exercising most and putting on muscle. I joined a gym this summer and was terrified as I watched the numbers climb as I gained muscle and became stronger. I think it can be hard because we always hear about the triumphs of losing weight, when gaining can be just as good or better! These days I simply go by how I feel. Am I healthy? Am I strong? That’s what matters.
Hope you feel better soon. xxx
I don’t own a weighing scale, and never plan to. Every time I weigh myself it just makes me more fixated on controlling my weight. So I ignore it. And the more people mention my weight, the more the issue is compounded too. People are like “you’re so little in every way”. This doesn’t help at all because I feel like I’m being defined as little in height and weight which makes me more nervous about my weight changing. I really need to ignore these comments and think of other things I’d like to be known as like nice, friendly, loving etc rather than tiny.
It’s weird, but I now feel like I never fully recovered from my ED 6 years ago. It just took on a different guise by my avoiding foods and blaming it on IBS. Yesterday morning I faced a food fear by having a cooked english breakfast, and it included carbs. I totally freaked out about it. Not only because it was a substantial meal early in the day but also because it was an unhealthy, calorie-laden one. And, shock, my IBS was awful afterwards! Stress-related no doubt because as soon as I forced myself to zone out and concentrate on something else my IBS lessened. I feel so lame that I still have these issues to face because my current weight (which is ok but could be better) doesn’t mirror what’s going on in my head and the mental battle I’m trying to win most days.
Anyway, get well soon lovely Sophia! xxx
“I didn’t care much if I was losing, so long as I didn’t gain.” <– That is my eating disorder, in a nutshell. I've come a long way, but most of the choices I make on a daily basis have something to do with this silly sentence. Before I decided to get better, I made the switch to my self-proclaimed maintenance mode as well. I kept losing, just like you, but I just ignored it and pretended I didn't notice because I was just so thrilled that I wasn't gaining. I'm so glad that I've gotten myself out of that loop and up to a healthy weight, but I wish I didn't still struggle so much with fearing weight gain.
I am proud of say that I ditched the scale in June this year, after a steady year of weighing myself every single day. I'm so glad I did because I do feel a lot more in tune with my body. It was a lot harder than I thought it would be, but so worthwhile. I honestly don't care about the specific number anymore. That's not to say I don't have other 'body checking' issues to deal with, but the scale is gone
Great post Sophia, as always
I hope you feel better!
Once again, I applaud your bravery at posting this! I can’t imagine the mental struggle (and the obvious physical one) that you had to tackle to recover but I am so so glad you did!
You’ve definitely taught me some things about the realities od eating disorders, so thank you. Its clearly so much bigger than that number or the scale, but at the same time that number seems to hold an emotional “weight”.
This was one of the reason why I was in denial about my eating disorder— I never thought I was fat. I never really wanted to lose weight. I knew I was skinny. I was just…”controlled about what I ate” (sound familiar?)
Exactly! Same thing for me. Exact same thing for me…
I weight myself now and then, but just to make sure I’m still healthy. Not often, I don’t care so much, it’s more a monthly check-up.
xxx get well girl!
I don’t own a scale and only get weighed once a year at my “lady doctor” appointment. I could probably give you a pretty good guess as to what I weigh based on how my clothes fit and how I look and feel though. I have had issues with scales in the past, and I think it’s much better for me to focus on how I look than what the number is, especially when you have crazy muscle legs like I do!
I used to weigh myself once a day. Every day. Through my ED. Through my recovery. And that number on the scale could make or break my day. i hated it when it went up. And then it recovery, I also hated it when it went down. It was crazy. And such a vicious cycle. I agree, people should step AWAY FROM THE SCALE. It’s just a number anyways and it should be about how you feel instead.
This is such a good post. I used to weigh every day too, and now I weigh myself about once a month. I do it for a lot of reasons: curiosity, making sure I don’t lose, and yeah, probably a little bit out of habit or fear. I don’t have a scale in my apartment at school, so I weighed myself when I got home, and I saw that I’d actually gained a little, and you know what? I didn’t even notice!! A few years ago I was always analyzing my reflection in the mirror, the exact way my pants fit, etc. But this time it had just happened and I didn’t give it a second thought…even better, I don’t really care. It doesn’t change the way I feel about myself, which is just SO refreshing to me!!
We have a scale but it is “hidden” in my boyfriend’s closet. I know where it is, but I feel no urge to weigh myself. Why would I step on something that can alter my mood? If it is lower than expected I feel slightly happy. And if it is higher, there is a little panic. To be honest, I don’t need to know the number. My body is healthy and I know that when I am taking care of it, everything else falls into place.
You know, I’ve never had a scale either. I actually didn’t weigh myself until I was in the hospital with heart failure. Afterwards I spent a month at home, waiting to get into ED program. During that month I became completely preocupied with my weight, like you said, the goal was to eat as little as possible. In my twisted little head, I wanted to “be as sick as possible” by the time I was admitted into ED program. I was thinking “they want me to be anorexic? Fine! I’ll show them the best anorexia they ever did see!” So that month was hell! My parents also considered buying a scale, to help ensure I didn’t lose weight. But the doctor actually advised them against it, and I’m glad he did. Now I get weighed once a week, in program, and I have this amazing ability to forget about the number the second I’m out of the room. Weight doesn’t matter.
This is a great psot Sophia, once more very insightful and poigniantly accurate. It’s so refreshing to be able to see the distorted behaviours very clearly after we’re done with them! You give me hope. Every single day!
Thanks, have a happy week without studying!!!
“This was one of the reason why I was in denial about my eating disorder— I never thought I was fat. I never really wanted to lose weight. I knew I was skinny. I was just…”controlled about what I ate” (sound familiar?)”
um, couldn’t have said it better.
I do weigh my self regularly…not sure why. I used to be obsessed with calories and while that no longer figures into things I somehow can’t get rid of my scale. Hopefully I’ll get there one of these days.
Great post Sophia – with this series, you are really doing a lot to help others who suffer from ED’s.
I weigh myself once in a while but really try not to obsess. I like to know I’m at a healthy weight but don’t like to stress myself out over worrying about the number too much. It’s definitely more about how I feel!
And I hope YOU are feeling better soon Sophia!
i’m on my scale all the time-because i use it as a little baby step stool to get closer to the mirror.
and the fact that i’m on it all the time but don’t bother to read the numbers says good good things
It’s weird because I was just about to write a post about where I’m at in the “scale relationship”…….
Reading your story though, is like reading my own in many ways. I really never even weighed myself when I was actually really disordered. I only became obsessive about it after I was in “recovery” and really trying to commit to it. Weird huh?!
I weigh myself just to see where I am at. Not b/c I “have to know” but b/c I have a tendency to run around like a crazy woman, be a mom, wife, work a FT job and actually weighing myself reminds me to keep my weight at a certain #. If it happens to fall below a #, I say, whoa, need to eat more nut butter this week type of thing. I am also a 30something woman and this is what works for me. To each her own
I just did a post on dslr camera rec’s. If you have any thoughts, chime on in honey bunches. I know you have a rebel (not sure which one) but i am gonna buy one. Which one..not sure yet..nor lenses…
Hey Averie,
I don’t have a Rebel! I’m a big Nikon fan. My camera is a Nikon D5000
I highly recommend a Nikon. Canon Rebels are popular just because…well, I think it’s because that’s the common ones that the health bloggers use, but most professionals prefer Nikon.
That’s so interesting that you didn’t pay attention to weight until recovery and then got more obsessive over it. I never knew that. I bet its hard to see that gain, even when you know you need it. What a huge mental (and physical) struggle. But you did it!
Wow, what a beautiful and TRUE post. I was actually (not that I can remember) a slave to the scale. I never really kept track of weight obsessively, just conscious of it. I went by how I looked, which was obviously horrible as I was so skinny. I was more of an obsessive calorie counter, and one of the best days EVER was when I took my “calorie counter” book, “teen calorie guide” and all those other ridiculous books, and literally took a hammer to it. I beat those things in my driveway like crazy.
Man, it felt good
I was actually NOT a slave to the scale*
Whoops
I no longer own a scale; i had one and after I watched my weight climb this year and the torture I was putting myself through I had to get rid of it. I literally took it and threw it down the street to break it so I had no excuse that it was ya know, under the pile of blankets, in the back of the closet, in the room I never use/go into. It’s still hard because I see my clothes fit differently, but hey…I just gotta get used to it.
We have no scales in the Pond. I’d never get off of it.
Thoughtful post as always. I go through phases, when I was dieting I weighed myself a lot but now it is much more about how I look and feel in my clothes.
Feel better!
I feel irritated by the scale because it still affects my mood so much. Normal weight fluctuations that don’t have anything to do with gaining or losing still tend to vex me a lot when I observe them obsessively, and mess up my eating behaviors. I feel freer without weighing myself and more able to focus on healthy and regular eating because I don’t absess so much about the numbers.
Y’know, I do weigh myself on a regular basis, and I’m quite concerned with getting to that “ideal weight” even though all my friends and family tell me that there’s nothing wrong with my current weight. I say ‘quite concerned’ and yet I do absolutely nothing to deal with it. I eat what I want and I haven’t exercised for months, but still when I get on that scale and see that I’ve gained a couple of pounds, or lost a couple of pounds, my mood swings from low to high. I’m a walking basket case.
I should really chuck those scales out. It’s weird how much it grips you, eh?
Jax x
Sophia, your story makes my heart hurt because I hate to think of what you went through. I am so grateful that you are where you are today because you are inspiring so many people with your talent and wisdom!
Weight means to much to me! I wish it meant NOTHING..NOTHING at all. I’m hoping that will come in time.
I try to stay away from the scale…At all costs..
For a long time I had no idea what I weighed as my mum threw the scales out when I was about 10. My disorder was never about the number on the scale. I obviously knew I was losing weight but I was similar in that I was frightened of gaining weight rather than being fixated on reaching a certain number or BMI. It didn’t actually really occur to me for a while into my ED that I ‘liked’ the feeling of being skinnier because it proved that I was in control, I was succeeding. I didn’t find out my weight until I went to the doctor and she made me stand on the scales, I remember being shocked and thrilled at the same time. Now, it horrifies me that I reacted in such a way and then walked away and used it as fuel to carry on ignoring that I was sick but we are blind to a lot of things during ED, I guess.
Now, I have a scale because I needed one during recovery. I don’t use it much anymore and if I do, it’s just to see where I am. I am at a place now where I don’t look down at the number and have fear, worry or judgment pass through me. My body will be what it wants.
During my eating disorder, I HATED the way I looked. I knew I was sickly skinny and unattractive, but that didn’t matter compared to the control I had over food. Even when I was “eating big meals” I was extremely aware of the amounts of fats, carbs, and the time I was eating. I remember thinking “as long as I keep this control, even if I gain the weight, I’ll still be able to lose it again if I want to”.
I own a scale now and I use it about once a week. There is a weight range I tend to be in and honestly, I like more the fact that I can indulge and skip work outs and then find that I haven’t gained. It’s more of a freedom tool for me than a restrictive tool.
I love this series and I can relate in sooo many ways. I threw out my own scale, but I still steal some weigh-ins at the gym once in a while.
I own a scale – the fear that I might suddenly balloon overnight is still something I experience from time to time, and knowing that I have a scale just in case I need to check is strangely comforting. I rarely step on it, though – numbers still have temporary impact on me, and I don’t like the ephemeral return to a time when digits could determine the course of my day…
I weighed myself regularly up until I left for college. I recognized that moving away to college was an opportunity to break free from the bondage of the scale. Ever since, I’ve managed to avoid weighing myself except at doctor’s appointment. I must say, life is so much brighter when I’m not measuring my self-worth by an arbitrary number.
Sophia,
This is still a hard one for me. Somehow somewhere I got stuck on the number. I haven’t weighed myself in months because I fear how I might react. I hate to admit it but I feel that strongly attached that I don’t trust myself knowing the number. I no longer try to justify it by saying I just want to go on how I “feel.” Of course, that is important, but the honest truth is, fear. Yuck.
I wish I could find a way to un-attach myself to this trigger. I need more weight for my health. It won’t be weight I like, it needs to be fat. I need fat for hormone function, for my body to feel well and work right. And the scale would help me know where I’m at with that. I know this is a part of my recovery that will need care and attention soon.
Thanks for the gentle reminder.
I weigh myself about once a week or once every two weeks just out of curiosity sake. My weight hasn’t changed in about 10 years, so I am just checking to make sure nothing is out of wack!
I hope you feel better! Great post, I’m glad you learned to overcome the control the scale had over you.
I used to weigh myself ALL THE FREAKIN TIME. And it got my ed to a point where if i gained even half a pound, i would just be crabby and moody until i lost it. What you said about the cycle in which if I gain, i would restrict and if I lose, I would enter “recovery” is what i’m pretty much dealing with right now, except with my body image. I’m seeing my therapist about it, but i have no idea how to tell her. This post has made me realize that it is important that i tell her, otherwise it may go too far. Thank you so much for writing this Sophia!
my old roomie had a scale that i was terrified of stepping on for the first 4 months i lived with her. i didn’t want to become obessed with what it said so it just stared at me from the corner of the bathroom. eventually i just got on it and started to view it as a science experiment. how much do i weigh first thing in the morning verses at the end of the day? how much do i weigh wearing pants verses shorts? before i pee verses after? silly stuff like that. it made the scale into a fun tool for scientific inquiry.
i don’t have a scale in our apartment now and prefer it!
Wow — thanks for sharing something so personal! I’m going to have to click back through and read more!!!
I could never get rid of my scale… my husband is always on a quest to gain weight and loves to check in with his (lack of) progress daily. And truth be told… when swimsuit season is near I like to keep tabs on myself here and there too. I’ve stopped letting it rule me though. that was a HUGE accomplishment! to look at the number and say “oh well” took YEARS!
I really enjoyed this post and look forward to reading more =)
xoXOxo
Jenn
I can relate to this post so so much. I used to be obsessed with the scale. My happiness or misery would be based on that number. It was horrible! One of the best things I did was throw out the scale. Weight is supposed to fluctuate! For so many years I tried to keep the number the same or less and throwing out that damn thing definitely helped me let go of that control.
During my recovery, I focused a LOT on weight and I think I did gain at a reasonable pace – which was very, VERY ridiculously fast. In spurts. I was well aware of the fact that I was binging more and more, and I’ve found that the less I focus on my weight, the less I binge. I don’t know… it’s kind of a nasty circle.
I don’t weigh myself anymore and that gives me a feeling of peace and freedom that I never knew before. I struggle with whether I should get on the scale backwards when I go to the doctor. I know I should-I’m so much more at peace with myself when I don’t know the number!-but I get embarrassed, even though I know nobody cares.
So glad you wrote this, I can see how you can get trapped in the scale during recovery — even though your eating disorder was never really into that. I could see myself in your shoes and thanks to you I am not going to let that happen. I simply refuse to weigh.
eff scales. thats all i can say.