Okay blank page – sudden freezing of fingers as twenty small thoughts jostle for position in my mind. I need to remember to get money out before therapy session. I spoiled my eggs and wasted them and now I’m cooking more. Am I even hungry? My headache says yes. My belly isn’t feeling it though. G. is finally nearly home! The internet tells me that his flight landed thirty-six minutes ago. No text from him, but that’s unsurprising. I’m guessing that after a 5.5 hour flight, his battery is dead.
Nothing hugely important is taking priority in my mind. A few school tasks are starting to rear up, like the backs of whales breaking the surface of the water, then subsiding once more. There’s nothing I have to deal with right this instant, but there are plenty of things simmering with the potential to boil over into stress.
I never returned to my doctor about the food, gut, menstrual pain stuff which may or may not all be linked. It never got so bad again as it was at the start of the Summer when it was agonising. But then I had an infection which might have been exacerbating everything. I just don’t know. There’s not enough data, and it still all feels a bit vague to return to the doctor with it. And it’s my precious time and my precious money to spend on it.
I’m not sure what I want to do. I feel like I’d like to push for some further tests to categorically rule stuff out, but I find it hard to advocate for something which I get the sense the doctor thinks is unwarranted. But don’t I get to decide? And if I (or my insurance) is paying for it, then isn’t peace of mind alone a good enough reason. And if it is “just” IBS and gut spasming stuff, then I’d like that officially diagnosed rather than merely theorised about, and then I’d like some solutions or paths to head in the direction of, please. Maybe a proper dietician. Maybe some trustworthy food allergy /intolerance tests.
I just want to do it right. I’m tired of hand-waving and guessing and surmising.
But okay, there mightn’t be definitive answers. Well, then I’d like to know that too.
Anyway, a break for re-done eggs. Is sustenance.
I’m still not very good at paying attention to eating. The phrase “Did I need to eat all that?” pops into my head, and it’s reading kind of harsh to me. I think that’s not what I mean to be thinking at myself. “Did I want to eat all that?” How would I know? I didn’t stop to think, I just ate what I’d created for myself. Two eggs might be too much. I think it is. I remember oftentimes during my university days when I’d make such a breakfast and then feel overfill at the end of it, but it never ever occurred to me to change it. Is there something that feels like boiling just one egg is a waste of water? Is it because two boiled eggs is what my mother served us when we were children? I think I am worried that one won’t be enough and then who has the time or energy to boil up a second one. So I make two, which means I eat two, and in fact I don’t stop in the middle to think about whether I want it all; I eat as quickly as possible in case I might realise I don’t want it all. And then feel slightly unwell for an hour or two afterwards.
But “slightly unwell” has kind of become an expected way of feeling for my body. It’s familiar and there’s comfort in the familiar. So much so, that “sated” is no longer recognisable. I am driven to eat until I’m uncomfortable because that’s the way I’m (ironically) comfortable being.
It’s just a habit. An old bad habit, and the solution is paying attention.
Well, I’ve said that a lot before, haven’t I? I think I need some help in paying attention. I know I need to slow down and pause, but even the thought of that engenders some panic in me. I don’t want to slow down. I only want to go full throttle or stop completely. There’s no time for taking things at a different pace, I have to rush and race to get to the point where I can stop completely, you see. Everything is a race. I win if I finish first.
But what do I win, only existential malaise, disconnection and disappointment in myself.