Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Stress and Expediential Weight Loss

We've been trying to muster the strength to write. We'll be honest, lately our moods are swinging back and forth so badly it makes the blood pound in our ears, increases our anxiety and perpetuates our insomnia; increasing our stress level. Today it's making us not want to write. We know we have to.

We think back to just about a year ago when things started getting confusing, when The Other Girl started her online journal, and I was trying to get her to start writing about the abuse in her life, and the experiences of our life; when she became stressed out and began unintentionally losing weight, and ignoring my instructions to write by distracting herself with frivolous activities.

The weight loss was slow at first, gradual. We started out last year being about a size 34, which for our nearly 6' stature and bone structure looked healthy. After August, when we ended The Other Girls two year relationship with Significant Other, the weight loss was expediential. We've probably lost 40-50 pounds since then, going from a size 31 to a 23/24, approximately 10" off our hips in the span of 6 months - mostly in the last two and a half months; everything on our body has shrunk, everything. Things we didn't want smaller. We even stopped attempting to go to the gym this year, for fear everything would disappear.

When we look in the mirror we don't know what to think anymore. We can see our ribs very clearly, we can see a lot of our bones, our collar bones have become very prominent. We like what we see and we hate what we see. We are ashamed of this.

We used to have a healthy appetite, but the stress took it's tole on us, and when we eat we are not able to digest things normally anymore. Often times, in the last 6 months, you could find The Other Girl playing with the food on our plate, mashing it all together, shifting it around, disinterested yet pretending to be excited about it; taking home leftovers off of our plate, and not eating them.

We've always had a bit of an issue with digestion and food, and we do eat...we just know that the result of trying to fortify our body, to sustain it, will ultimately end in stomach cramps, and other embarrassing issues, so we eat very little most of the time and make sure we are close to bathrooms, or will be within an hour of eating, just in case. Embarrassing.

When we were 10 or so The Mother took us for allergy testing and we we're positive for allergies of many foods. In the starch category the only things we were supposed to eat were potatoes and rice, anything grain based made us ill, caused us to bloat and be gassy; years later we would understand this to be a primary reason we were heavy - The Other Girl, and Bitch, really enjoy carbohydrates. We also had environmental allergies and asthma; but those we primarily grew out of. We are lactose intolerant, though we still eat dairy products, just never milk.

We had been feeling ill for almost a year, and up until we disposed of The Other Girl we were having two menstrual cycles a month, with a couple days break in between each; it worried her. It frustrated us.

In November of this past year The Other Girl was way sicker than we currently are. She would tell people, her friends, that she felt like she was dying. She was, she just didn't understand how she was dying. We were trying to kill her...I was trying to kill her. It took months, and a very long weekend, and the help of someone very special to complete it - a story we are saving for another day.

In the process of trying to destroy The Other Girl once and for all, we messed up our body; and now we have to try to figure out how to make it better again. Pixie Princess, a friend that is a nurse, and also a friend from The Other Girls past, has us taking vitamin supplements because she has said we have gotten too thin. It's hard for us to remember to take them; just another thing that makes us, some days, feel more of a failure.

We just add that to the list of things that make it hard for us to get through the day. The list that some people feel the need to add to, every once in awhile.

We don't sleep much anymore, anyone who has been following us on Twitter knows that to be true. We are up all night, restless, sometimes irritated; chatting with people all over the world, and even some on our continent, who suffer from insomnia. We hope we will start sleeping more again, we've been told that not sleeping is likely attributing to our weight loss.

It's conflicting, to look in the mirror, having been formerly obese because The Other Girl could not control her, or Bitches, appetite most of the time; to see a shell of what our body once looked like. Even though to most of the world this would be a desirable body type, the medical world might say differently.

The Pup once told us, a few weeks back, that he thought we shouldn't lose any more weight, assuming it was intentional. People who see us once a week comment, each week, on our continued weight loss. Lately we have responded by simply saying that we are not well.

When so much of our life feels out of control, and we are in so much physical pain from after effect of a car accident, because we've stopped self medicating the it away; and we experience mental turmoil just trying to get through our work day; what we eat is one thing that I CAN control. Some days we eat, I let Bitch have what she wants on Sundays, but then we are hard on our self, because in our mind it's just a matter of time before we are fat again.

We don't know if any of this is making sense, or brain this evening is once again addled from stress, and potential malnutrition.

To anyone who has never had issues with food, this may not make sense. If you would have told The Other Girl a couple years ago that this is what her body would be at this point, constantly in pain and this thin, her mind in constant turmoil once again, she never would have believed it. She used to think that people who "forgot" to eat, or didn't have a desire to eat were weird, and strange. Little did she know what would become of her, and her body.

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