So this has been a pretty rough week. All the drama with Hurricane Irene (which was dropped to a tropical storm when it hit us) and my best friend lost her father this week. It was a rough week.
Being stuck inside for the weekend with no power and no ability to cook.... kinda sucked. Luckily our refrigerator stayed cold so I was able to have my cold cut roll ups and tuna fish and that kind of stuff. And beef jerky... but of course, its when you CANT do something... is when you WANT to do something. So all I wanted to do was cook the chicken that I've had in my freezer for a week. Which, btw... I've had power back since monday and I have YET to cook that chicken which now I think I need to toss because it defrosted during the outage.
Then when life happened, and we lost Mr. G, it really was awful. I was hurting for him, I was hurting for my best friend, I was hurting for the family which I had been a part of for the past 6 years. Then life got in the way with my eating.
Pre-op I used to eat all my feelings. When a friend of mine died senior year, I ate. Thats how I grieved. I'm Italian. Thats what we do. We cook and we eat. If we're not feeding people, we're not happy. Particularly if things are already kinda shitty. We think food will make the world better. This time around... it was different.
This time... I was sick all week. I was nauseated all week. Every time I cried, I'd end up sucking in so much air that the crying would be interrupted by belches. I had to force myself even more so to eat just to get my protein in, and some days I didn't get all of it in. And some days... I didn't eat the right things. This week I had pringles.
I know that doesnt sound so bad, and in reality it wasn't like how I used to eat the whole giant can of pringles. We have those little single serving lunch box packs. I had 3 packs total, over the course of 4 days. Still not great, but still not the whole can. I also figured it would satisfy my salt craving (TMI ALERT: because of course, in the midst of all of this, after 8 months of nothing, my period decides to make a visit, which has just pretty much been all pain and no product) and I know I could have had worse things. But I'm still not proud that I did this.
But it did help me realize something. I don't have that emotional satisfaction anymore from eating. The Pringles did NOT make me feel better. They did NOT satisfy my uterus' demands for salty goodness. It did take 3 packs for me to realize that I WASN"T getting that same satisfaction... but I still realized it.
I no longer have that friend in food. Food is no longer a replacement for things. Food is just something I need to have in my life to live. Pringles won't bring my best friend her father back.
In the past I would have eaten everything under the sun this past week. I would have probably eaten about 4 pounds of pasta, topped with 9 pounds of cheese. I would have probably had 8 slices of pizza throughout the week. A few Butterfingers, probably a pack of double stuffed oreos and a lot of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Plus tons of other carbs.
Its incredible how different things really are post op. This was a true test of my old habits... and I didn't pass with flying colors... but I definitely know now for next time... pringles won't make me happy.
And now... just to make light of the situation and add in my usual humor since I know this entry isnt as profane and lude as usual...
at the funeral, I had the body of christ. ya know the Eucharist. (or as Dane Cook would call them, 'Crouton o'Christ' or the "Jeezit") ... yeah. that one body of christ killed me. I wanted to curl up in the confessional and cry even harder. So much pain.
But I still ate it out of that good ol' Roman Catholic guilt ;)