I've become more comfortable with being uncomfortable.
I
stumbled upon that realization the other week when thinking about why
this time took, of all my attempts at real recovery, and not the other
times.
Last autumn I started working on assertiveness. I
bought a workbook, like a middle schooler. This was initially more for
my professional persona than anything else, but I noticed the benefits
in other areas of my life, too.
When I was being more
assertive, it was easier for me to identify feelings instead of just
reacting to them. It's not surprising, then, that I found myself able
to be less and less in my eating disorder as it stopped having reactions
to immediately protect me against.
This was all incredibly
uncomfortable. That discomfort has started to pass after many moons,
though I'm not sure it'll ever be gone entirely.
It's
been supplanted by a different kind of discomfort as I've slowly gained
weight since the longtime birth control fully worked itself out of my
system in the spring.
In PCOS, birth control essentially
protects the ovaries and balance the amounts of estrogen and androgens
they produce. When the body has less free testosterone, insulin levels
stay steadier, and insulin resistance doesn't develop (at least with
me).
Off birth control, that protection disappears and the
ovaries (and pituitary and hypothalamus) go into overdrive
producing androgens. The more androgens in your system, the more insulin
your body wants to produce. The more insulin in your system, the more
androgens, etc., etc.
Some of the super awesome signposts
of high androgen levels include male pattern hair thinning (such as at
the corners of the forehead), oily skin and acne, and the growth of
dark, bristly hairs in places you'd prefer they not appear. (I want
electrolysis if I'm not knocked up by Christmas. NYC medi-spa
recommendations welcome.)
Those symptoms aren't fun, but they're not so, so terrible. (Okay, if I'm being honest, the acne is really depressing.)
What's
making me so entirely uncomfortable is the belly fat that has very gradually grown since about April. That's an insulin thing, and it
means I should really get my butt to a doctor to have a fasting glucose
test to see if I need to be on the insulin regulation drug Metformin.
In
the meantime, though, talk about the major fear of most eating
disordered people coming to fruition: weight gain, not due to out of
control diet, right on your abdomen. It is so exquisitely
uncomfortable*.
But being that I have
finally learned how to be uncomfortable, I finally have the
ability to just sit with that feeling of I hate
this so much when it crops up (which is still several times a day).
About a month ago, I surprised myself by realizing that going into
eating disordered behaviors (whether restricting or purging or whatever)
doesn't really occur to me anymore. At some point I took it off the
table.
Which leaves me here, with a belly growing for
upsetting reasons (if the belly fat weren't upsetting enough all on its own), and the ability to sit with how much I hate it. That
may sound incredibly depressing, but I can assure you, it's
liberating. (If uncomfortable.)
Next on the docket:
finding a PCP's office who actually understand whether or not they're in
my HMO network, because apparently no doctor's office anywhere has
fully figured out how to work with the PPACA plans offered on the state
exchanges. But that is a whoooole other post.
*"But CN, when you get pregnant your belly's going to grow anyway." Yes, obviously. But, you know, that'll be a fetus, not just adipose tissue.
