weighing on me.
that's weird right?
i mean, it's sort of psychotic.
sure, i haven't weighed myself in over a year because it is a flipping nightmare for me to be tied to a number on a scale. but suddenly, irrationally, i'm terrified of the mere idea of finding out how much i could weigh now.
honestly, i'm guessing i've put on a couple of pounds.
because i'm turning 32. i am getting older. i am not restricting my food intake in the way that i used to. which means, I AM BEING HEALTHY. and god forbid, i'd put on a few pounds and be up from the 117 pounds i've weighed SINCE I WAS 17. seriously. it's ridiculous.
why do i care? i want to be happy being whatever weight is healthy for me. which is why, when i was at the doctor's office the other day, i stepped on the scale backwards and told the nurse to say nothing to me about what the number said. and at the gym, i don't even look at the scale in the locker room as an option.
because i know better.
but still. even though i know better, i'm struggling.
i want to stop having this dream. this anxiety-filled nightmare. i want to grow up. i want to forget my eating disordered past for good. i have no reason to be tied to it anymore. but, wow, that's such a hard chapter to close.
so i am praying for strength.