**Disclaimer: I need to apologize to my mom in advance for this post. My mom is an absolutely amazing support for me. But in an effort to make this blog as accurate in depicting how someone with an eating disorder really interprets every situation, I feel it’s necessary to include this journal entry.**
March 3rd, 2016
Oh my freaking gosh. Despite not having a very good body image morning (surprise, surprise), I’d managed to have an okay start to my day. The sun was shining when I woke up, my puppies were both curled around me in my bed, and I was able to refrain from working out as soon as I got up. I had breakfast, did my devotional, and then headed over to meet Dad at Starbucks for coffee (yes, a vanilla latte-shocker, huh?) so that I could do some reading/journaling while he did some work, in an effort to not be alone all day long. As soon as I sat down, I got a text from Mom, saying, “We’re having a blood drive here. And I don’t qualify because I’m not 120 pounds. Does that sound right from when you did that?” (I used to be the blood drive coordinator at my high school). Well, as a matter of fact, it did sound right to me, according to the American Red Cross standards, despite the fact that her TELLING ME HER WEIGHT did not. Actually, it made me want to just about shoot her head off! Oh boy…so Mom’s not 120 pounds. Mom thinks she’s fat. Mom thinks she needs to lose weight. Mom complains that her clothes are too tight, yet insists that mine are not. And I KNOW what my weight is, and it’s just barely below that. Okay. Wow. I really am fat. It’s all been a lie. Every time Mom’s told me that I “still look thin”, every occasional glimpse I’ve had of feeling “okay” in my body…none of it is real. I don’t have any body distortion. I’m just fat. Because if Mom’s not 120 pounds, she’s got to be the same weight as me. Maybe she even weighs less than me!?!??!! And according to her, she has “a horrible body.” Then, as if that weren’t enough, after I tell her that, yes, that is right, she responds with, “It’s not like I’m skinny!”, even FURTHER emphasizing the truth I’m already experiencing about myself. So Mom and I are the same weight. Okay. Wow. This is going to be an interesting rest of the day/week/month/year/life trying to make myself eat if they’re going to make me stay at this weight.