In 1993, I gave up fat for Lent.
In an attempt to be “good” (which I was a little hung up on), and to prove my self discipline (which seemed to be lapsing), and to convince myself, once and for all, that I could stick to my guns; I decided that a period of abstinence was a great way of putting myself on the straight and narrow -
(more…)
“Fat”, as a noun, is a “nutritional component of food”, and not a name for myself.
Contrary to the automatic associations, “fat”, as a “nutritional component” is required for healthy functioning.
In moderation, noun “fat” will not make me adjective “fat”; although it may contribute to an alternative meaning: the “tissue made up of cells that contain fat”. This type of “fat” is normal. It’s what keeps us warm and healthy and offers a little protection from the big bad world.
(more…)
I seem to be a little squeamish about food.
I am yet to work out whether this is a consequence – or a cause; a commonality – or a quirk that’s peculiar to myself.
It goes back to a peanut in a glass of orange juice incident, and is proving quite hard to shrug off –
(more…)
When I get up at 6:30 in the morning, because I need an extra half an hour to weigh my breakfast and measure out my lunch; then it sometimes crosses my mind that maybe I’ve gone a little overboard with the whole control thing –
But, because I’m in a rush (by the time I’ve spent the prescribed minutes eating each regulated teaspoonful in the right order), and as I have become accustomed (over the years) to my drawn out morning routine, I push the thought aside -
(more…)
Yesterday, I brought a box of chocolate chip cookies.
This is a significant occasion: it has taken over 14 months to trust myself with food again.
After so many planned – and unplanned – food related disasters, I have been slightly wary of anything resembling temptation.
Bulimia’s as corrosive on an emotional level as it is on a physical one: bingeing steals your self control – and then it undermines your self.
(more…)
It doesn’t take a genius or the horrors of Belsen to illustrate the connection between anorexia and food fixation –
There’s nothing like a touch of starvation to really focus the mind.
Anorexia gets you hooked on an emotional level – but it’s the physical reaction that will really screw with your head.
(more…)
I don’t join in the communal calorie conversations.
As a reformed calorie calculator, I’m trying to de-programme my head and start seeing food as food – and not as a permissible or not permissible number.
The problem is, the worlds’ concurring against me.
There are traffic light systems and calorie counted menus and colour coded packaging and an obesity epidemic vying with a size zero culture -
(more…)
I am developing an unexpected interest in the culinary arts. It started with soup and hand blenders, carrots and coriander.
It’s not another unhealthy obsession, I hasten to add; but, I didn’t realise that you could taste pride. Along with organic vegetables and freshly mezzaluna’d herbs.
Who’d have thought that something which had caused me so much pain might actually start to bring me some pleasure? Food feels quite different when you breathe out a little of that guilt and start getting over the fear.
Cooking is becoming strangely therapeutic.
(more…)
Food has stopped being just food.
We’ve messed around with it all so much that we can’t see the wood for the artificial trees.
We’ve got so caught up in the whole subject that we’ve lost sight of the key feature.
Food feeds.
It’s the human version of fuel.
It’s a natural requirement, not just a lifestyle choice.
It’s easy to forget this.
Because we’ve complicated the subject. Food has been media-ised, stylised and politicised. It’s been written, talked and argued about; finger-pointed at; dissected; analysed; debated; genetically modified.
I started with Freud and metaphorical mouths, and ended up at “comfort food”. I was being far too complicated. We can keep this deconstruction simple. It doesn’t take a genius to work out the associations.
Comfort Food. Pretty self explanatory. We give a crying baby milk and a heartbroken teenager, maltesers. Chicken soup for flu and macaroni cheese for winter days; custard and crumble for Sundays, and chocolate for when you’re down.
Bulimia links in to comfort. It’s about feeling bad and wanting to feel better. Macaroni cheese and chocolate topped the binge food bill.
Anorexia resists comfort: it’s all about punishment. And the message starts early.
