We had to weigh the cat the other day for his wormer, which we do on the Wii Fit because we don’t like being attacked by teeth and claws. So while we were at it we did as our psych asked a while ago and weighed ourselves.
We have been roughly the same weight since we had our daughter, have never really bothered about our size or what we ate. So long as our clothes fitted we were happy, and comfortable in our skin.These days, after a year of hugely disordered and restrictive eating, our skin is much less comfortable. We are the lightest we have been for over fourteen years. I was always the best in our system at eating, which wasn’t hard, but now I am struggling to keep up. Our weight isn’t too low, nor is our BMI of concern. Ergo there is nothing to worry about, right? Wrong.
We are now at the stage where we think – we know – that we are in danger of passing our disordered eating on to our daughter. It is increasingly hard to cook her food, and she does most of it herself – she’s old enough now to do that, before anyone worries about children and hot ovens. It is also becoming more difficult not to restrict her diet as much as we do ours, to the point that we leave the house when she is eating.
And we have a very specific example of this – our daughter was out tonight for a meal, and has come home with a cough. No big deal? Take a look at our thought process. This cough is because she had food we didn’t have any control over. It isn’t just a random cough. She is poorly. She is probably going to be sick. We need to send her away before that happens. We have nowhere to send her to. She can’t eat away from home again, it isn’t safe. Look what you’ve done, you said she could go. And so on, and on, and on.
But it’s ok, we aren’t at what the professionals class as dangerous levels for our weight or our BMI. Our daughter is being fed. Ticking all the boxes. We know nobody cares, nobody will help. So we’ll just keep plodding on, putting an extra sugar in our drinks, leaving the house, biting back all the things we want to say but can’t because our daughter doesn’t need our food issues. It’s all fine.