TW; Borderline ED
When I was young I was skinny, mostly thanks to ADHD medication. When I was a junior in high school I went on birth control…lo and behold, the things I was allowed to “get away with” caught up with me. I am currently 5’3″ and in the neighborhood of 165-170.
Over the past year, I began really obsessing over my weight. How I managed to avoid starving myself, puking and making myself run until I collapsed when a chorus of voices in my head told me to just do that…I have no idea. I would verbally (silently and out loud) berate myself. I’d slap myself, call myself names…and just mentally attack myself. I can be sweet and compassionate to others, but I was a demon to myself.
I couldn’t think about anything else. I felt lost, and hopeless. I even told myself that my boyfriend of five years (who has been nothing but loving, supportive and awesome) really didn’t love me and was going to leave me for someone better if I didn’t lose weight. Just awful stuff.
My mother told me to get help. So I found Jan the counselor, who is one of the best people to ever walk the face of the earth. Not judgmental, loving, supportive, was able to encourage me to find exercise I liked, eat healthy in a way that fits a busy working/college life, and (most importantly) work on building myself back up. I ate healtheir, walked more, and even started going to the gym on campus (at least 1x week). When I went to go see my PCP I figured she would be pleased to know about my progress.
A few weeks before, I felt moved to go run around a few blocks in town. Usually I despise running, but this felt good. Then my legs hurt like hell. My neighbor (a physical therapist with a doctorate) figures it’s shin splints. She tells me to take it easy, eventually build up to running, and suggests exercises that won’t, um, make it worse. So I discover the elliptical and fall in love.
I told my doctor about it- proudly telling her how I am eating a healthier diet, working out, taking vitamins…etc.
“Everyone gets pain in their legs when they run.”
It all went downhill from there. I get a big lecture on how I need to start running, drop weight, and she orders a whole panel of blood tests to make sure my cholesterol/blood sugar/thyroid/metabolism are okay (a few years ago when I wasn’t as healthy, but was skinner, my numbers kicked ass). My BP was 120/90 (which is within normal range) but she insists that I return in six months to have it checked again, and let me know that she expects my weight to be down by then.
“Have you had breakfast today?”
“No, I didn’t get to grab breakfast yet.”
“Good, you can do the blood test today.”
(Did I mention that I am terrified of needles?)
I left that office in tears, feeling defeated… why bother? Didn’t she realize that “no pain no gain” is outdated and dangerous? What part of “I’m seeing a counselor due to self-esteem issues” did she NOT hear?
I spent the better part of an hour after that appointment, calling my mother, calling Jan (who was away-and glad that I had the presence of mind to contact her), and trying to figure out how I’d get through the blood test. Finally I composed myself enough to go in, and get it done. The tech was one of the sweetest people when I explained the situation. She talked to me so I’d be a bit distracted and gave me a hug afterward (and of course, I begin to weep again).
Tomorrow I should have my results in. Due to ADHD medication, I’m shackled until I can find someone who can handle that until my appointment with a new person (who my mother recommended). If I have to go back for the results, I can’t wait to either:
-see that maybe my thyroid is messed up and be able to fix it
-see that my numbers are fine so I can tell her to fuck off.
(Sorry for the language).
(cross your fingers for me).
My cholesterol was excellent, my thyroid is normal, and my glucose was normal.