Bloomingdale’s Breakdown

Yesterday was so-so. There is a Valentine’s day dance at Hood next month and I figured I should probably get started on looking for a dress because it takes me entirely too long to find one that I’m satisfied with. My mom took me to Tyson’s Corner mall to go looking for one.

We started off looking for some new work clothes for my mom, and we were pretty successful in that feat at Ann Taylor Loft. Everything that she got looked really nice on her. One of my favorite things to do is to style other people and make them feel good about themselves.

After shopping for my mom, we made our way to Nordstrom. Starting in the T.B.D. section, I found nothing. That section doesn’t typically have dresses like what I look for anyway. We went upstairs to the regular dress section but I had to get out of there as soon as possible. There were too many dresses, the majority of them hideous. I was not going to find a dress there, much less have the patience to do so.

By then we were getting hungry for lunch so we tried out a new restaurant called Seasons 52. It was so good! Everything there is healthy, too, which is a plus. I always worry about what goes into the preparation of the food I eat when I go out to restaurants. I decided that right now is probably not the best time to try a vegetarian diet. My weight is not stable and it’s really unsure about where it will go next, so I think I just need to keep things steady for a while and see what happens. This in mind, I had free range of the menu! My eye was caught when I saw that there was Ahi Tuna. One of my favorite dishes, the tuna is raw and sushi-grade. It looks disgusting but it’s really good, so I got that.

After lunch we headed to Cusp, a contemporary women’s store owned by Nieman Marcus. This store is notoriously expensive, but my mom insisted on looking anyway. She found a really pretty violet body-con strapless dress. I was wary of trying it on. When I did, my worries were affirmed. I looked disgusting in it. It hugged my curves in all the wrong ways. I wanted to take it off immediately. Mom said it looked good, but I could not comprehend how she would ever think that it was flattering on my horrible figure.

Then came the worst choice of the day. I was hopeful going into Bloomingdale’s, but I definitely shouldn’t have been. I found one Free People dress to try on that I somewhat liked. It was a little too “cute” for the look I am going for. I found a new brand that I had never heard of before, Lipsy of London. All their dresses were adorable and I found about 5 from the line to try on. I had difficulty picking out sizes because they were all European, so I settled on two sizes in each dress. None of them fit. At all. I don’t think the company took into consideration that when you change the size of a dress, you need to add more fabric in the butt area. I couldn’t fit ANY dress over my humongous ass. It was so discouraging. I hated it. Leaving the dresses in a heap on the floor, I sat in a ball on the chair and pouted. Right then I missed my eating disorder more than I ever had. I was certain that I wanted to relapse. I wanted to put my life on the line again so I could fit into a fucking dress. My mom could sense something was wrong so she came in. I just wanted to be left alone. I was embarrassed and ashamed of how disgusting my body has become. She doesn’t know what to say in situations like these, and the only people who do are my Remuda sisters. Those are the only ones. I don’t want to think rationally in those situations, I just want to pout and cry over how hard recovery is. How hard this stage in particular is. How hard loving myself is. How hard it is to not miss my sickness.

When we left I took a nap in the car and when I woke up I felt a little better. I knew I was going bowling with a group of friends from high school and I was really excited about that. It took my mind of all the insecurities I was having and it was great.

No one prepared me for how hard recovery would be, and I don’t think anyone or anything could. You have to experience it for yourself because everyone’s experience is different from the next. I wish, though, that someone had told me about this influx of weight gain that is 90% inevitable. I wish someone had prepared me for the point in which I became my worst nightmare, for when I loathe getting dressed and having to face my appearance in front of mirrors. I just wish this phase of recovery was over, or there was a way that I could have bypassed it all. I know that’s unlikely, but I am a dreamer and I want to believe that it is possible. My one goal for 2012 is to be in a more stable place of recovery, where weight isn’t always on my mind, where my weight is stable, and ED keeps his thoughts out of my mind for the most part.

Aimed for moon. Lost in space. -Anthony Grant Gordon

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