I Fucked Up My Elbow, So I Can't Do Like Half My Exercises And I Want To Put My Head Through A Wall.

I fucked up my elbow, so I can't do like half my exercises and I want to put my head through a wall.

When I used to sit and fantasize about my recovery, I would imagine daintily trying bites of fear foods.

My recovery didn't look like that. It was crying at my first taste of red meat in 6 months. It was refusing to eat in the dining room. It was planning the exact right time to eat breakfast so my inlaws wouldn't see. It was being disappointed by every food I used to love and finding new ones. It was crying when I broke my jeans and the bravery to buy the bigger size. It was getting to know myself outside the aesthetic and realising after it all I don't like food that much.

One time I had a panic attack mid act. We stopped got fast food and continued later once we were horny again

You have a complex relationship with your body and need to keep some/all of your clothes on during sex?

That's okay, what you're wearing looks good on you.

You need to take a lot of breaks doing anything intimate because you're easily overwhelmed?

I understand, I'm just happy to be here with you.

You're on medication that impacts your libido/makes reaching orgasm really difficult?

No pressure, tell me what feels good for you, and if you get frustrated we can do something else together.

Sex isn't going to look the same for everybody and that's fine, that's normal.

Sometimes you don't orgasm, sometimes you need to stop because your mood changes out of nowhere, sometimes you get really self conscious and need accommodations to take your mind off of it.

People are too complex for everybody to go about it the same, just keep doing what feels best for you, regardless of how different it may seem from other people's experiences.

I am trans and anorexic and those two entities play on each other so well. I'm half convinced my hatred of my own body is what drove me to starve in the first place.

There are 2 very distinct feelings for "I hate my chest for being feminine" and "I hate my chest for being two literal lumps of fat". And they can happen at the same time.

A fun thing about being both trans and on the autism spectrum is that sometimes I can't tell WHY I have discomfort with my body, because it could easily be either or even both.

Like, my legs. Do I dislike having hairy legs because it's a masculine-coded thing, and it's giving me gender dysphoria? Or is it a texture thing, and I just hate the feeling of skin touching skin, which is 10 times worse when it's hairy skin?

(I'm pretty sure the answer is "both")

I cannot overstate the impact having good people around you can have. I got the bottom of my eating disorder and I fully believe I would have been bedridden for a lot longer if not for my fiance. He was ready the second I was discharged with the meal plan from my dietian. He put his own damn weight loss on the back burner for months both before and after my starting recovery just to make sure I was eating.

And you know what? It worked. For a very long time the sole reason I pushed through for recovery was for him. Finally I found my own reasons. I'm not tempted to go back anymore.

It's crazy how my perspective has changed. I stopped caring what my body looks like.

I'm elated that I can benchpress 4 kg when 6 months ago I couldn't lift the bar.

I'm amazed I can squat 10 kg because 9 months ago I could barely stand.

I can watch myself in the glass door and critique my form instead of my rolls.

I don't even flinch to add more to a meal.

I don't give a singular fuck what my body looks like. I want strength. I want power. I want the shaking on the last rep. I want the pain of pushing my body. I want to see what my body can do.