Couldn't resist the urge to weigh today, as I got discharged yesterday at around 2 PM (yay!), and it was... 97.4. So I've only gained like 1 lb in the last week. I don't know what I really expected, except that I didn't think I was in the triple digits yet... but only one pound?

I mean, it's good in the sense that I'm not freaked out by my weight yet, but it's bad because if I'm already eating 3 meals 2 snacks, and I only gained a pound in the last week, it stands to reason that within a few more weeks I will probably stop gaining on this plan, and I do NOT want any food increases!!! But I know that if I don't keep gaining the dietician is probably going to want to do more increases... and this meal plan is fucking hard enough without MORE GODDAMNED FOOD. I really, honestly don't know how many more increases I can handle.

I'm only managing what I'm eating now because I'm giving myself ZERO choice with regards to my current meal plan. It's pretty much like I'm keeping myself on protocol right now, including in terms of getting up semi-early, what and how I eat, and the intervals at which I'm eating. If I wasn't following protocol still in my own head I know I would NOT be eating like this, because my hunger cues are still fucked up, and restricting is still far more habitual to me than eating. It's extreme mechanical eating at this point... I prepare the food, I sit down at the appointed time, and I bite, chew, and swallow until the allotted food is gone.

And I still hate it -- I don't like feeling so full so often, and I don't like eating the volume of food I'm eating, and I don't particularly want to eat. But I know that if I don't eat, I can't do all the things I want to do so badly in my life, like actually learning more about everything, growing on both an intellectual and artistic level, actually being involved and making a difference, etc. Food is the basis for this, so I'm putting the food in my mouth and letting it go down my esophagus to my stomach. That's it, plain and simple. It is not easy, or fun, or truly pleasurable at this point. It is simply a rote exercise which I perform with the desire of attaining something more because I have a basis from which to start.

This detachment I have from the food is also necessary, I think. I guess it kicked in after awhile at hospital, after freaking out about pretty much every meal for almost a week, when my hunger signals started to come back a little, and I actually began to be hungry for some of my food. It was only then that I didn't feel gargantuanely bloated after every single meal, and could feel that on a natural, biological level that eating was right, and so then I freaked out a little less about having to do it. But I am definitely NOT all there in terms of mentally processing, really being in the present with food, or much enjoyment.

On the other hand, I know I will get further than I am now, that this is a stage through which I will eventually pass, and that the discomfort and anxiety won't last forever. Plus, as I said before, I know there is a greater reason for doing this, and a GOOD reason (well, actually, there are many), so right now I am able to just... do it. Even if I can't think about it very much.