Case
Well-known member
I have been under a depression on and off for a few years now, and today it all came to a somewhat shocking realization.
I am killing myself, very slowly, by not eating.
This isn't what I want. I don't want to die, but I am struggling to get out of bed, struggling to maintain my weight, and it's not working.
To give an example, on Friday, I had a good breakfast with a friend, and she told me my weight loss was noticeable. I promised her I would eat, and I did, but it was only energy bars. I think my total caloric intake that day was around 1200-1500 calories. According to my height, I need at least 2000 to just maintain my weight. Then, in the last two days, I barely left my bed, and when I should have consumed 4000 calories minimum, I probably totaled 1100 for both days combined.
Today, I took a shower, and images of concentration camp survivors flooded my brain. It's the lightest I've ever been. I'm not sure of the exact weight, but I know I have never seen myself in such a state.
The trouble is, I know what I need to do to stop this, but doing it is another matter. Part of my brain floods me with sad images, crippling feelings, and all I want to do is sleep. The saddest part of this is I have a friend whose mother just had surgery to fix a problem with her large intestine. She was not digesting food, so in the span of a couple of months, she lost a ton of weight. Now, she is in a hospital recovering from the surgery, and her prognosis is good. And here I sit, having to deal with a weight loss issue not caused by a physical ailment, but by a mental one, and it shames me.
This isn't anorexia, either. I don't see myself as needing to lose weight. I also don't binge and purge. I simply do not eat. Part of me expects my body to rebel and give me a nice heart attack any day now. Boy, wouldn't that be a capper to a messed up situation? "Local man dies of heart attack because he would not eat. Friends say he was a dumbass."
Anyway, off to have lunch. I'll try to add something to the order to give me a little extra to put on some weight.
I am killing myself, very slowly, by not eating.
This isn't what I want. I don't want to die, but I am struggling to get out of bed, struggling to maintain my weight, and it's not working.
To give an example, on Friday, I had a good breakfast with a friend, and she told me my weight loss was noticeable. I promised her I would eat, and I did, but it was only energy bars. I think my total caloric intake that day was around 1200-1500 calories. According to my height, I need at least 2000 to just maintain my weight. Then, in the last two days, I barely left my bed, and when I should have consumed 4000 calories minimum, I probably totaled 1100 for both days combined.
Today, I took a shower, and images of concentration camp survivors flooded my brain. It's the lightest I've ever been. I'm not sure of the exact weight, but I know I have never seen myself in such a state.
The trouble is, I know what I need to do to stop this, but doing it is another matter. Part of my brain floods me with sad images, crippling feelings, and all I want to do is sleep. The saddest part of this is I have a friend whose mother just had surgery to fix a problem with her large intestine. She was not digesting food, so in the span of a couple of months, she lost a ton of weight. Now, she is in a hospital recovering from the surgery, and her prognosis is good. And here I sit, having to deal with a weight loss issue not caused by a physical ailment, but by a mental one, and it shames me.
This isn't anorexia, either. I don't see myself as needing to lose weight. I also don't binge and purge. I simply do not eat. Part of me expects my body to rebel and give me a nice heart attack any day now. Boy, wouldn't that be a capper to a messed up situation? "Local man dies of heart attack because he would not eat. Friends say he was a dumbass."
Anyway, off to have lunch. I'll try to add something to the order to give me a little extra to put on some weight.