I know this sounds kind of lame, but I've actually been going through the mourning process of losing an anorexic body. Yes, I've only been eating very well the past week, but I've been trying to eat more in general the last month and as a result, I've gained five pounds. OKAY, I KNOW! Five pounds isn't exactly a lot, but it is when you're me or probably any eating disordered person. Bones don't stick out as much. There's a bit more "padding." I feel like a dinner table that's had it's extension pieces brought out so more people can fit around the table.
I feel sad. I feel like I lost someone or something important to me. It's letting go of something that's been a part of my identity. In a way, I'm letting go of a part of me. Yes, it was a part of me that was like a limb infected, ridden with festering wounds. It's a part of me that NEEDED to be severed to protect to rest of me.
But it doesn't make it any easier. I'm sure this feeling of loss will continue as I further my recovery...but I wasn't expecting to feel it so soon.