I don’t remember exactly when eating three moderately sized meals became the wrong thing to do.
When did eating regularly become such a foreign habit?
My specially picked, hand drawn up weekly food plans seem to take a lifetime to plan and sticking to them feels like I’m trying to swim through mud Monday to Sunday.
I know I’ve picked healthy balanced meals but when it comes to meal times, I’m simply not hungry.
I don’t feel a hunger pain that I’m deliberately ignoring but I just feel nothing. In fact, I spend most of the week feeling full, contrary to the reality of what I’m actually eating.
I did it though, I followed the plan and ate at the times I was supposed to. The exact meal I had committed to preparing and despite not feeling hungry, I ate.
I ate because deep down I knew I was supposed to.
But friday was tough. I got to friday morning and after crying at most meal times for eating when I didn’t feel hungry, I woke up starving.
And I mean starving.
And as my hunger started to wake up I started to panic for an opposite reason.
I spent my week scared because I was eating without feeling that hunger pain and now I was panicking because I finally felt that hunger pain telling me that I should eat.
I’ve spent so many years, more than a third of my life, convinced hunger was the enemy. I spent those years believing that ignoring the hunger made me strong.
A constant battle of second-guessing whether I am hungry or not.
A battle of, am I actually hungry? Surely that hunger pain means I’m greedy. Ignoring it will make me stronger….turns into the next battle of, I don’t feel hungry so why would I eat? Am I being weak for eating when I don’t feel hungry?
A battle that seems to want to spiral out of control. But I’ve managed to keep it under control this week, even though there were a few bumps along the way.
Simply because there isn’t a hunger pang doesn’t mean my body doesn’t need nourishment…
I’m proud of this week. I purged once but otherwise stuck to my plans despite the fear.
I’ll be speaking to my old therapist over the phone in a couple of days. A call that has been organised due to my recent relapse. We’ll be discussing the big question of whether or not I should start seeing a new therapist down here. Part of me think that means I’ve failed. Part of me is scared to open up from scratch. Part of me thinks it could be good to have that professional support here when I need it.
A lot of things to think about this weekend but a lot of positive actions to praise myself for too.
Happy weekend x