If there's one thing I know...

... It's eating disorders.


But I'm not one for "I told ya so"s so I just kept to myself.

When I started grad school about a year and half ago, one of the first classes I took was Biochemistry. It was blatantly obvious to me by her mannerisms (and the fact that she has a PhD in "food" studies) that our professor has an eating disorder.
After taking the final for that class (over a year ago) I was out for a drink with some classmates and the professor came up in conversation. I mentioned in passing that I was certain she had an eating disorder.
Every one disagreed.
No.
No way
Yeah right, she's so smart and she is an expert in nutrition.
Her hair isn't falling out.

I explained that I didn't say it to be catty or a gossip and it made little difference to me if any one believed me. But I know eating disorders. I could tell by her personality, her perfectionist attitude, subtly (to the untrained eye) fluctuating weight, and I explained that it's very common for people with eating disorders to go into a profession that pertains to food. Might as well get paid for your obsession.

Well, a year later and we had the same professor for Nutrition. At the end of the class, we did a short topic on eating disorders, at which point, professor came clean that she "used to" have an eating disorder.

People were shocked.

Not me. I didn't even bother to glance in the direction of the classmates who didn't believe me. It didn't matter. I didn't feel any more validated than when I had made the statement a year prior. I know eating disorders and I can spot them from a mile away. I felt equally as certain about it the day I mentioned it as I did the day she decided to talk about it.

Fat fat fat

Weight is stuck again.

And it's no mystery.

I can't stop drinking!

Seriously folks. It's a problem.

And probably, if I drank less alcohol, my muscles wouldn't be so sore from what working out I do, and I could work out more, therefore burning more calories, while at the same time consuming fewer calories. And getting fucking skinny.

But instead, I drink.

In the realm of food and exercise? Fine. Eating mostly nuts and veggies, keeping the intake low. Running 5-6 miles a day.

And then the sun goes down, and I throw literally about 600 Calories per night into my stomach of just alcohol. I could totally drink more hard liquor than beer. But Husband keeps buying really great beer. So many new things to try, each more delicious than the last. And that's the worst part. Cause I like scotch and we have good scotch and I could be drinking that. Or bloody marys. I make kick-ass bloody marys. But then the beer shows up and with it, my beer gut.

And this is why I am fat.

Because I have no self-control.