Infestation

So, You're Even Crazier Somehow

     It wasn't until March that I had realized there was weight gain. I looked about the same, until suddenly, one day I was bigger. 113 now, and I felt so much more desperation. I was scared. I was extremely terrified. I had worked so hard, and now, well it's all ruined. It was my fault. I was fat now, right?
But I couldn't stop eating, which caused worse pain. I remember when I didn't train aerial, I got obsessed with walking. I had a pedometer, and had to hit 15,000 steps a day, and everyday I had a goal of 1200 calories...and everyday I failed. Somedays I ate 1600, and lost weight. Some days I ate 2000, and most days, I binged. It was weird. I both wanted to recover, but I also wanted to just stop eating and lose back to 95. I was conflicted. It was a lot of nostalgia. I couldn't hide from everything that really ate at me now - I couldn't use the eating disorder to keep my thoughts from dwelling on the stuff I didn't ever want to dig up.

I remember spring break - I was terrified of myself, especially because my parents traveled to Germany for some tours, as well as to meet with the director of a circus school there, Die Etage. She wanted to give a word for me, and to see if I could come for the summer.

I was alone, and still basically consumed by binging. I vowed I would do at least one day on 1200. I promised. I wished for the nostalgia of being extremely sick. I wanted to feel the same high - but now, well I knew I wasn't indestructable, and that this had really done a number on me. It was the sick part of myself that wanted to keep going.

Tuesday - It was the day that I made it through without binging, or binging and purging. I ate 1200, and I felt fine, but it reminded me of how lonely it all was - I found myself a bit high though, off of the nostalgia.

That didn't last long, as the next day was monumental for something other than food. This was one of the most important days in my life.

It was circus camp, and I could've totally just done silk the whole time, but instead, I touched the rope. It was a touch that seemed to keep me there. I climbed it, and it made me happy. I was attached immediately. Nothing else mattered. I did some silk skills on it, and then got shown two new skills. I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. I rubbed my back raw by the end of day one.

I came back the next day, my hands in pain, my skin raw, and ready to work. I taped my hands up and wore a hoodie, and kept training.

This is when I realized I had found my apparatus (at least for aerial). I mean, if you're willing to bleed for an apparatus, I think that means something special.

I trained more, and kept trying new things, and even started beats. I loved it so much that I signed up again on Sunday to do more. I literally couldn't stop.

I remember watching the videos I filmed of myself during that time. I remember thinking I looked disgusting, horrible. I remember literally vowing I'd go back to 900 a day with no exceptions. I look back now, and really, I looked thin. I was still thin, and it's so weird to think now. I want that body.

I also remember that Friday. It was a night I don't think I can forget.

It started innocently. I did a workout, but decided to do it in 15 minute chunks, because I was stupid tired. I also just kept eating, thus adding extra hours to the exercising. Halfway through the night I also remember completely giving up. I just ate, and it was the most I had ever eaten. 4500. I remember the fear afterwards. I was terrified. I couldn't work out because I was tired, yet I kept eating, and eating, and why the hell was I still eating? I wasn't even thin anymore. A few hours after finishing the binge, I had to seem completely fine, as my parents had come home. So no purging. I had to let it sit, and then sleep on the calories. A horrible feeling is falling asleep while still digesting. I remember my heartbeat. I felt it in my arm, and it was loud. I could barely sleep because my heart was beating so damn loud - it scared me. It really did.

I thought the world would end, and meteors would fall through my roof.

But I awoke the next morning, my heartbeat dull, but still felt in my arm, and I had to face myself again.

I vowed to stop forever, but in the next few hours, I did it again. I binged without purging.

I felt sick, but at the same time I was eating so I wasn't sick, right? It was weird. I was struggling more now than I did at the low weights. I was honestly happy then, and now I was the opposite. It was worse when anyone pointed out my body. I had people tell me I was thin, when I knew I wasn't - really. I was fat right?

The only thing that kept me going was circus - I began training rope during aerial class, and during open gym, and anytime I could. Everything went away when I trained. I felt like something mattered; it wasn't me, but the skills. I wanted to get stronger, so I could do the stuff I wanted to do. It was the one thing that kept me sane.

April reared its' head, which meant it was a year since I had started falling real deep into the disorder. If I did it once, then I could do it again, so I desperately went to try and starve again...everyday...I also failed, everyday. It was almost everyday that I binged, and by mid-April, I was 126. I guess I didn't look it, but it was painfully obvious to me.

It's weird, I have some weird things attached to this point. I had finally started watching The Office - so the theme song brings me back to this moment. I also remember Circa Survive, but not Violent Waves, no this time it was Blue Sky Noise. It's odd. I was both my same old self, and this new self that I had become during the severe restriction period. I wasn't really sure who I was.

April ended with training, and May, well I swore I'd finally do it, and guess what? I did. The month of May was back to restriction, but it was hard, harder than it ever had been. I would eat 1100-1400, and it was so damn hard.

I now felt so much hatred for my body, and it was only perpetuated by recovery body. You see, when someone gains weight after restriction, it all goes to the stomach; which sucks. It does redistribute, but only after a while. I hated it. I remember watching training videos, and literally couldn't stand myself, so I'd try to workout more, but my legs would barely feel like the worked. I was still dealing with the stupid health effects, even after months of nonstop eating.

I still binged a few times, yes. It was far less than it had been in earlier months, and I would burn it off as well. It wasn't as awful - but it still sucked.

I lost weight, and by the final week of school, I was 113 again. I felt good, almost. I wasn't as thin as I wanted, but I vowed I would lose all the weight while in Berlin. I had to, so I could see Silent Planet again, and feel worthy. I had the same desperation that I had back in January.

On the last day of school, I bought Halo Top, and then afterwards I binged, again.

Nothing had changed, and now I was worried about school - it was terrifying to be alone now, in this horrible state of Limbo.