Although the shock of seeing my weight number on Monday has worn off, I am still reeling from it.  I have had this overwhelming sense of sadness and am still trying to decipher why.  Yesterday, my therapist had me describe how my body felt and then asked me to recall the first time I remembered feeling this way.  I answered, almost immediately, that it was in 7th grade when a friend with whom I was fighting told me that my new haircut made my face look fat.

This weight number has triggered a reaction that, I suspect, is resulting from something buried deep in my subconscious.  I’m happy that I’ll be seeing my therapist later today to see if I can make head or tails of this experience.  My journey has included a few of these intense, extreme and uncomfortable episodes where their end has marked a leap forward in my recovery.  I’m holding faith that this will be another.