All Too Unwell

It's Ok

TW: protein obsessed gym rat "rEcOvErEd" people. I actually feel so angry when I see them promoting an unhealthy obsession with exercise, protein, and muscle mass as recovery.

I had survived the first week of Eras shows, meaning that I ate full meals. Tonight marks the 8th show, and my heart feels fluttery right now. I try to push the feeling aside and just drink some more water, hoping it'll calm me down. I was quite shaken up, knocking something over and apologizing repeatedly, even though everyone said it was ok. When we went on, I felt at home and like I was doing what I was meant to be doing. Throughout the show, my anxiety got harder to manage, but I managed to push through all the way to Midnights. Once I thought I had gotten through the show without making a mistake, during karma I forgot a move and froze up. 

I haven't messed up this bad before. I feel all eyes on me. I am completely frozen, and now everyone is about 3 eight-counts ahead of me. Knowing I messed up too badly to redeem myself, I made my way backstage. The internet is going to make videos about this and make fun of me. Will they notice that I've gained weight? 

At the end of the show, I can see Taylor approaching me and sitting down next to me. She softly rubs my back and then pulls me into a hug. I sob into her, my mascara most likely getting on her jacket. What if it's dry clean only? What if the mascara stains it forever and Taylor gets mad at me because it's expensive? I've already embarrassed her by running offstage instead of thinking of doing something that would make it look like part of the show. But most of the fans knew how the show went already so they know I messed up?  "What's wrong, sweetie? Do you think talking about it will help?" Taylor asks, squeezing me tighter. "I'm so sorry for messing up." I say, crying again. I never wanted to disappoint her. 

"Aww don't worry about it honey. I just want to make sure you're ok and let you know I'm here for you if you want to talk about it," Taylor says pulling back so she can see my face, rubbing my arms.  

"I'm so sorry I should've thought of something that made it look like part of the show and I just ran off which made everything worse but I didn't want to cry and have a panic attack on stage and I just feel like I can't do anything right and I'll always mess up and disappoint people," I say, knowing I'm rambling, but feeling like I have to explain myself. I know Taylor doesn't get mad very easily but I'm still learning that. I look at her face, seeing that she's not angry at all but very worried. 

"You are totally fine. I understand not knowing what to do in a moment of stress. We all mess up; it's ok! I'm not mad or disappointed, I understand that it happens. Please be kind to yourself, ok?" Taylor says softly, pulling me into another hug. She pulls back slightly, keeping one arm around me while we walked out as she waved to the crowd. I tense up, wondering what they're thinking of me, and Taylor notices immediately, drawing circles on my back. When we get to her car, she smiles at me reassuringly as if to say, "I'm not mad; it's ok". Then I remember I might've ruined her karma jacket and she should be mad at me. 

"Sorry about your jacket. I don't even know why I was so upset," I apologize.

"No worries at all! I'm glad I was there to help, and it'll wash out. Even if it didn't, you are way more important," Taylor smiles lovingly. 

"What do you want for your after performance snack, babes?" Taylor asks.

I hate that she's making me eat after performances and rehearsals, but I guess it's better than not being allowed to exercise. I've seen some recovery videos on Instagram and TikTok where they eat a lot of protein and exercise a lot to build muscle. I am thinking of doing this to seem recovered while keeping the obsession and control. 

"I want one of those protein cookies," I say

"Is there a reason you want a protein cookie instead of a regular one?" Taylor asks. Nothing gets by her. 

"I just think It'll help me perform better," I answer, picking my cuticles. 

"Here's what I think is happening: You have been seeing "recovered" people post about protein and exercise, so you feel like it's more comfortable to be perceived as recovered by society, but not actually be recovered, because you're still avoiding food groups." Taylor says, matter-of-factly. 

"Full recovery scares me. I think protein cookies taste like chalk but they don't scare me as much. It's so hard," I say, admitting that it would be easier than actual recovery. Which is admitting that it's not recovery to be obsessed with protein.

"You're already doing amazing, but if that's what you want, we'll get it. But please know you can talk to me about anything." Taylor says, directing her driver to stop so he could go get the cookies, telling him to get normal cookies too.

"I told him to get normal cookies too because you need to know that it's ok to have a treat with no protein. I know a lot of people on the internet claim to be recovered but eat protein with everything and exercise a lot. They are not recovered, they have just moved on to another type of eating disorder. I know that this is all very hard and overwhelming so I'm letting you have the protein cookie, but I also want you to try to have some normal cookies. I'm going to eat them too and I'm right here with you." Taylor says, seeing right through me again. 

We drive back to the hotel, and I turn on Gilmore Girls because I don't want to think about what I'm doing right now. I eat the protein cookie first, which tastes awful, but is less daunting of a task. When I reach for the normal one, Taylor gives me an encouraging smile and shows me that she's eating one too. This makes it a bit easier, and I remember how good cookies are. Maybe I was never scared of food, but of letting myself enjoy things.