Randomly thinking about that time an otherwise supportive doctor told me "that's bad :/" when I reported what was actually progress in my eating disorder recovery. She knew I was severely traumatised and therefore at high risk of an ED. And yet.
Fucking diet culture everywhere. I could never get ANY treatment whatsoever for my ED because it was and is all horrifyingly toxic and full of "recover, but not too much!" dogma; the axiom: "Starvation isn't great but being fat is literally the worst", so we'll tell you to do more restrictive, disordered stuff if you're fat or we think you could head in that direction. THAT IS NOT SAFE! π±
But it's everywhere.
I was never treated (or even assessed) for my ED despite being an obvious risk and struggling with it all the time, denial being part of that struggle as it is for most people. Then when I started eating more and resting more instead of doing the stupid dangerous shit I'd put my body through before, that no one ever worked with me on- Well that's when I started gaining weight, which is a normal and healthy response. But then they saw that as an issue. And I stayed out of the ED groups and was really scared to be put in those because they included MORE food control, LESS freedom (to eat!) and triggery and shamey stuff like weekly mandatory weight checks. It messed me up just seeing that being done to others.
I don't think I realised until now how much that implicit threat of punishment for being fat (as a direct result of periods of malnourishment, but that's neither here nor there) has messed me up. I could never feel safe. Because I wasn't. Because my basic needs were seen as laziness and greed, just like my rapists had characterised them. And my treatment teams all agreed on that point, even if they didn't phrase it like that. But they made sure I got the message. "Your basic survival needs are lazy and greedy and you don't deserve them fulfilled."
I was never allowed to be there for, or in, my body. Being trans and genderqueer was WRONG too and a potential mental disorder, which is why I usually didn't dare mention it. It never went well when I did, except that one time in the psych ward that was otherwise the worst and most retraumatising. Gave me athlete's foot as well. Ugh.
Aurin (ki, ki, kis)