This is a triggering word, I know. It’s an even more triggering feeling. There is really no simpler way to put it than: I feel fat. My arms feel fat, my cheeks feel puffy. I keep squeezing the flesh around my midsection thinking, Fat, fat fat. I hate that I am 40 years old and am still squishing together my stomach.
My recovery is stable, but I can’t get away from this feeling.
Day 47.
Update: This afternoon, when my husband decided to take an afternoon nap and the kids were having quiet time playing upstairs, I did an intense HIIT workout and some core work, on what was supposed to be a rest day. Then, I took another shower and put on a flowy, forgiving dress. I’m still feeling out of sorts, but I’ve done all that I can to put a better spin on the day. Here’s to a better tomorrow.
I Quit: Giving up Bulimia 