I think I'm doing alright

I think I'm doing rather well in recovery. I'm trying to do the whole "eat when hungry, stop when full" thing. It's never really worked for me, but I'll try it again. At around 5 pm today, I knew that we would be eating dinner at some point, but I was starving. So I ate a yogurt. Everything was fine. I did not binge. I did not spoil my dinner. I was still hungry for dinner when dinner-time came.

I have a confession to make: I counted calories today. Here's why: I want to make sure I'm not overeating. Today was the first day in my recovery that I haven't binged, and I wanted to know if I was eating enough/too much. I have an account on livestrong.com, and I had it calculate how many calories I should be eating per day to lose 1 pound per week. Because let's face it, I'm still 25 pounds overweight. I don't want to be obsessive about food and starve myself, but I also don't want to gain any more weight. It's not healthy for me, either way. So my Livestrong account says that I need to eat 2,010 calories per day to lose 1 pound per week. WOW. That's at TON of calories! Today I ate about 1,700 calories.

- Breakfast: Granola and skim milk
- Snack: M&M's
- Lunch: Arnold's sandwich thin with peanut butter and Nutella
- Snack: Fiber One yogurt
- Dinner: Salad (lettuce, green pepper, avocado, light Ranch) and tortellini with marinara sauce

It seems really weird that I only ate 1,700 calories. Currently I'm not hungry and I'm not overly full. I ate a little bit too much at dinner, but that's only because my boyfriend's mom wanted me to eat more. I felt full, so I stopped eating, and then she said, "Have a little bit more Liz. You barely ate anything!" So I took a few more tortellinis and ate them. No biggie. It's really nice to be told to eat more, rather than to be told to eat less. Even when I was in recovery last time, my parents would always be telling me not to eat something, or to eat less. SERIOUSLY? Who tells a person recovering from an ED that they should eat less?? Idiots, that's who.

I also weighed myself this morning. I know, I shouldn't have done that. But I really wanted to know! This morning is the first morning that I haven't felt like a complete cow. I woke up and didn't feel overly fat. I didn't feel skinny, but I didn't feel fat. So naturally, I wanted to know what I weighed. It was 185. Not horrible. That puts my BMI at 28.9, which is overweight but not obese. I'm ok with that. Obviously I'd love to be a normal weight, so I think my goal is to be anywhere between 130 and 160 pounds. I don't care where I am within that range. I just want to be happy and feel good.

This was my third day on the Lexapro, and I'm not feeling anything yet. I'm already thinking about how I'm going to tell my mother about all of this. She is one of those people who doesn't really believe in psychological illness. When I was diagnosed with depression when I was 14 years old, she completely denied it. She wouldn't believe me, even though the psychologist had just sat there and told her that I had depression. When I talk about having anxiety, she says "Come on, Liz, you don't have anxiety. You just get a little nervous sometimes." Thanks mom. Thanks for understanding.
So when I tell her that I'm taking medication for anxiety and depression, I will have to justify it. So I made a list of things that I can't do because of my anxiety. Here are a few examples:

1) I can't watch sports games because I get too anxious about who's going to score.
2) I'm afraid of going to new restaurants because I don't know their routine. Do I seat myself or do they seat me? Do I pay at the table or take the check to the front?
3) When I have something to say in class discussions, I often don't say it because I'm too anxious. It takes me too long to calm myself down and by then the discussion has often moved on and I don't get to say it.
4) I ask my boyfriend if I look ok about 10 times per day, and I freak out if he doesn't give the right response.

The actual list is 15 items long, and I'm definitely missing some things. I just can't think of everything right now. But hopefully, by arming myself with these facts, I will be able to convince her that there actually is something wrong with me. I want to get better, and I feel like these meds and some therapy (when I get to school) are my best shot. Unfortunately, I need my parents' insurance to get both of those things, so I have to tell them. Grr. I'm sure it will be fine. This is part of my anxiety too. I freak out over things that will most likely be fine in the end.

So here's the final assessment of how I'm doing, on a scale of 1 to 10 (1 being complete relapse and 10 being complete recovery): 5.
I am feeling good, but I also weighed myself and counted my calories. I think I'll update that number daily, and ideally it will get closer to 10 as I go on :)

Well, that's it for now. I hope you are all doing amazingly, in whatever you are pursuing! Stay strong loves <3