One of the goals R set for me this week was to tell my roommate that I'm struggling with my eating disorder and ask her to eat more regularly with me. This wouldn't be that big of a deal - my eating disorder isn't a secret and we've talked about it before - except that I feel like it would draw SO MUCH unwanted attention. Seriously, there's no better way to kill my appetite than to scrutinize my eating habits. It makes me want to take my plate into the next room and scrape off all the food into the garbage can.
R is convinced that if I make my friends aware I'm struggling to eat enough, it will keep me accountable and reduce my anxiety about the increased intake and weight gain.
I'm convinced that if my eating is suddenly under the microscope, I'll freak out, have a nervous breakdown, and lose my mind. And somehow, inexplicably, get fat in the process.
Either way, R is probably right that I should try to eat with others more often - but easier said than done. I still have major anxiety about eating around other people because I worry about: a) looking weird, b) eating too much and getting fat, c) not eating enough and getting hungry again five minutes later. So yes, eating my own food in my own kitchen is much simpler.
I did manage to shake things up this weekend though - in fact, I ate in restaurants twice (yeah, TWICE). People, this is big. I hate restaurants. Or at least my eating disordered-self does. This actually is a good gauge of healthy-Kaylee versus ED-Kaylee because I used to love going out to eat. Not just for the food, although I liked that too, but for the whole festiveness of the occasion. Now? Not so much. Break in routine, unpredictability, unknown calories, etc. - all the usual suspects. So this weekend was an exercise in both social eating AND quitting the counting habit.
Anyway, back to R's assignment: I sort of indirectly brought it up with my roommate last night, just mentioning that things have been a little stressful because I am "supposed" to be eating much more than I am physically or mentally comfortable with. No mention of specific foods or meal plan requirements or the case of Boost stashed under my bed.
So...I guess I partly completed the exercise? For some reason, I don't think R will be totally satisfied with my half-hearted attempt. I didn't exactly mobilize the Food Police the way he seems to want. I just hate making my eating disorder an issue with others. Mostly, I hate the prospect of being forced out of my comfort zone. Call me stubborn.
On the plus side, I actually DID buy the Boost.