So I have to tell on myself—I went to my endocrinologist on Wednesday and I had a major freakout. I have to see him every 8 weeks right now because they are still trying to adjust my thyroid medication as well as address my PCOS. The news was mostly good this visit, especially when I think about where I was a year ago. My triglycerides, cholesterol and B12 status are all perfect. My blood pressure was 105/67. My A1C test was good as well, so my blood sugar has been normal over the last 3 months. And my testosterone for the first time ever went down, which is a great sign with the PCOS.
But then came the scale…they always weigh me the second I get in the door. This, of course, stresses me out to the nth degree. I have to remind the nurse to NOT tell me my weight, as I do not weigh myself more than once a week, period. I had weighed myself on Monday and my weight had stayed exactly the same, which of course bothered the holy hell out of me. She told me that I should make sure that I tell the doctor not to tell me, because he will if I don’t say something. So what do I do? I don’t say anything, and he tells me. He said, “So, you weigh XXX pounds. You’ve lost 8 pounds since the last time I saw you. Tell me how you did it”. Instead of feeling good about the fact that I had lost weight and that all of my blood work came back great except for thyroid and Vitamin D status, all I could think was, “How the FUCK did I gain 3 pounds since Monday??? Three pounds in three days??? And fuck him for telling me!!”. I was so angry all I could do was sputter something about not eating sugar and doing yoga. And immediately, the Voices started in. “You’re eating too much. You really need to drop bread from your food plan. And oil. And start restricting your fruit. Because otherwise, you are going to get even fucking fatter than you already are. You’re going to be like Violet Beauregarde in that scene in Willie Wonka where they have to roll her to the juicing room before she explodes.” I grabbed my new Synthroid samples and got out of there as fast as I could. I went to a meeting later that night, which helped a little.
Unfortunately, for the last 4 days, I’ve been internally struggling to not restrict my food plan and to not kill myself with exercise. I’ve found myself trolling the “diet” section at the store, casually looking at the various diet pills…and then the magazines, looking at the various diet and exercise plans. Since Wednesday, I’ve downloaded one new workout book, bought some carb blockers and added up my calories on MyFitnessPal.com twice. Trust me, that website is NOT my fucking Pal. I’m still using my food plan, doing my daily prayer/affirmations and meditation, going to meetings and calling my sponsor, but I need to fess up. Next time I am going to speak up and tell him to please not disclose any numbers to me. I’m going to be honest and tell him why. The mistake I made was to not speak up for myself and to not put my own welfare first. I know that I am at the point in my recovery where I am still shaky and oversensitive about the scale, and I’m not going to put myself in that position any more.