My boyfriend is on a diet. Again.
Now, aesthetically I have no issue with him dieting--the whole "I'd love you no matter what" routine holds true. Maybe I'd be bummed, normally, but honestly the weight-loss part doesn't bother me. It's the diet itself that I can't live with. Not because he's on one, but because he talks about it constantly.
Now, I'm the girlfriend. I expect him to talk to me about things...and if that includes his diet from time to time, I'm ok with it. I am, however (and he knows I am) a recovering anorexic. I can't remember a time when I was comfortable with my body...and I've noticed that my inability to cope with my eating disorder spikes when my guy, my friends, my family, my coworkers, whatever, are actively (and usually loudly) dieting.
Obviously it's not his fault. It's my hang-up. I'm the one who can't deal...so I don't know how to tell him that I don't mind if he loses weight, but I can't listen to all the sordid details anymore. I've lost three pounds in a little under a week. It sounds like nothing, but dropping from 110 to 107 on my body? Big deal.
We've been through this before. In the end, he left me because I was "too distant". Our arguments all centered around how shallow I was being--refusing to go out to dinner with him and not wanting to hear about how many calories he'd cut out that day--because he knows I dig bigger guys, and he assumes that my dislike of hard-core dieting is tied to THAT, not to my own tendency to binge on diet pills and run for three hours at a stretch when confronted with anything stressful.
And I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say to him. I do know that I can't keep this up. I had a nasty dizzy spell this morning, spilled coffee down my neck and right shoulder and gave myself some very pretty second-degree burns. (Ugh...no, don't ask how I managed THAT one...did I mention I'm clumsy?) I've lost my coordination entirely a couple of times at work lately (bad to get vertigo when holding a two hundred pound laser printer). My parents are starting to worry again and I find myself desperate to tap into my "emergency ephedra" stash.
This is probably totally off topic, and you're welcome to delete it. I didn't know where else to bring it up.
Now, aesthetically I have no issue with him dieting--the whole "I'd love you no matter what" routine holds true. Maybe I'd be bummed, normally, but honestly the weight-loss part doesn't bother me. It's the diet itself that I can't live with. Not because he's on one, but because he talks about it constantly.
Now, I'm the girlfriend. I expect him to talk to me about things...and if that includes his diet from time to time, I'm ok with it. I am, however (and he knows I am) a recovering anorexic. I can't remember a time when I was comfortable with my body...and I've noticed that my inability to cope with my eating disorder spikes when my guy, my friends, my family, my coworkers, whatever, are actively (and usually loudly) dieting.
Obviously it's not his fault. It's my hang-up. I'm the one who can't deal...so I don't know how to tell him that I don't mind if he loses weight, but I can't listen to all the sordid details anymore. I've lost three pounds in a little under a week. It sounds like nothing, but dropping from 110 to 107 on my body? Big deal.
We've been through this before. In the end, he left me because I was "too distant". Our arguments all centered around how shallow I was being--refusing to go out to dinner with him and not wanting to hear about how many calories he'd cut out that day--because he knows I dig bigger guys, and he assumes that my dislike of hard-core dieting is tied to THAT, not to my own tendency to binge on diet pills and run for three hours at a stretch when confronted with anything stressful.
And I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say to him. I do know that I can't keep this up. I had a nasty dizzy spell this morning, spilled coffee down my neck and right shoulder and gave myself some very pretty second-degree burns. (Ugh...no, don't ask how I managed THAT one...did I mention I'm clumsy?) I've lost my coordination entirely a couple of times at work lately (bad to get vertigo when holding a two hundred pound laser printer). My parents are starting to worry again and I find myself desperate to tap into my "emergency ephedra" stash.
This is probably totally off topic, and you're welcome to delete it. I didn't know where else to bring it up.
