I weighed myself this morning. I probably shouldn’t have done. I’ve been able to avoid weighing for some time now, and actually felt ok with myself. But today I weighed.
I have gained. By quite a lot. From my lowest weight I am almost 1.5 stone up. More significantly (to me, anyway) I am just entering into the next stone. It’s just a number, I know, but it’s a number I’ve not seen in a long, long time. Over 2 years, in fact.
It hit me. I wasn’t sure how to deal with it. Usually I’d keep it to myself and silently plan how I was going to lose it all again.
Not this time.
I went downstairs. Voice shaking, and close to tears, I called out to my husband; ‘babe, I’ve gained. I’ve gained a lot. I don’t know how I feel about it’
He approached me, smiling. He said and did exactly what I needed in that moment; ‘that’s amazing, I’m so, so proud of you’, and as he hugged me, whispered into my ear ‘you are so beautiful’.
It’s the little things that make a big difference. Cliche, but so true.
I’ve not always felt completely supported by my husband, but the past couple of months he’s been amazing. This is a crucial time in my recovery journey. A time of big, life changes, in and away from the eating disorder. As I’ve been discharged from the eating disorders team services, I am effectively alone in this now, it’s all on me.
Only, I’m not alone. My husband showed me that this morning. I have support. I have my family.
I have gained weight. Quite a bit. But do you know what? I think I’m ok with it…