Learning the difference between real hunger and head hunger

27 Jan

What a revelation. I waddled my way out of bed yesterday afternoon, after 30 minutes of trying to get comfortable. You see my bum hurt like a bitch, I couldn’t lay on either side, and laying back was just out of the question. So I figured I’d go for a short walk … again!

Anyway, I was waddling my way out of bed, when I had this massive urge to eat. Like I could imagine the tastes and textures in my mouth. I wanted a cheesburger. I wanted pasta and spaghetti. I wanted crusty bread. I wanted cheese and pickles and grapes and peaches and strawberries. I wanted tomatoes and basil and and and and and and and!!! I felt like I was starving.

I walked into the kitchen and made myself a runny smoothie of stawberries, yoghurt, lactose free skim milk and pineapple juice. I sat down in my comfy glider, ready to suck the hell out of those fucking asshole straws (I am so tired of the bloody straws!). I took one sip. I waited a few moments and then took another sip. I put the (tiny 50ml) glass down and sunk myself into the comfort that is the back of the glider. My mind once again went to all the food that I miss. It went to all the smells and tastes that I felt I would die without.

But then I realised something. It hit me like a tonne of bricks; I wasn’t hungry. My stomach was not grumbling. I wasn’t light-headed.

I wasn’t hungry. But the way my mind was going, I had made myself believe that I was starving!

But I still wanted the food. I wanted it so bad, that I started to cry; that ugly cry when your snot runs into your mouth. It was a quiet cry though, because my stomach region is still so sensitive from the region that I couldn’t make the ugly noises to go along with the ugly cry!

And then it occurred to me. Call me stupid but it was right there that I realised that this is why I needed the band. And these couple of weeks on liquids is kind of like my rehab. I am having withdrawal symptoms from my drug. I am craving it and imagining that I NEED it.

It so hard. But I need to get through this. I have a feeling that the completion of the liquid phase will determine my success with the band. I am fighting my demons. And I can’t back out. I can’t give up. I can’t tell myself that it’s too hard so stuff it. I can’t just stomp to the fridge and stuff my face, telling myself I’ll be good again “just after this bite”.

The band is forcing me to deal with all of my shit. It’s fucking hard, its agony but I know that it’s vital.

The band is forcing me to see this through. I can’t back out. There is absolutely no way. And for someone who finds it very easy to give up, it is hard. Hard hard hard!

But in some warped way, I love it.

It is not my dad taking that piece of bread away from me. It is not me yelling at my mum, saying things I later regret. It is not me being hurt by someone not offering me something because I’m so fat I don’t need it. It is not my husband giving me ‘the look’ when I eat something very unhealthy just a mere few minutes after proclaiming that I’m on a diet. It is not my hatred at myself after I have just eaten the 5th bread roll in a row.

It is my band. It is the fear that I wil tear something or damage my insides. It is the knowledge that there is an end to it eventually; I will be able to eat again. I will be normal again. I will be able to walk and bend again. This pain will subside.

It is my band. My band that is forcing me to get my shit together. My band that is forcing me into reality. My band that is taking away my denial, one sip at a time.

My band.

My regrets? That I let myself get to this point. That I let myself get so out of control, that I need this pain and fear to get me into line.

That I didn’t do this sooner.


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