Went out to get some food today. The plan was to limit the shopping to 10 EUR, with the idea that I'm only spending the food budget of today and Monday. But as soon as I saw baby radish leaves, I broke and went all in (or nearly all in). I mean they are so cute! I could not resist.
I ended up spending 20.48, which leaves me with 10 EUR until Friday. I got myself some beef, salmon, chickpeas, olives, spinach, baby radish leaves, garlic sprouts, pistachios, cheese, and sprats.
On the way back from the shop I cracked up laughing when I saw this on the ground. I don't think I remember ever finding candy on the street before. Message received. Loud and clear. xD
A telltale sign that gives away the fact that I do, in fact, feel at least slightly sorry for myself and feel like having a treat is right here:
Back home it is a known fact that if one wants Josie to feel missed, welcomed and loved, one just has to have olives at home. And I keep wondering, do other people also have a certain food that makes them feel loved and celebrated? Do let me know, I'm curious.
Cheese too obviously, I've always loved cheese, so much so that in childhood I was nicknamed mouse due to the fact that cheese was pretty much the only thing I ate willingly.
I have always been a picky eater, so more often than not I was forced to eat things against my will. This is where my issues with food began. I wanted to gain control over the things I ate and ended up being anorexic, eating a single chocolate bar a day, hiding food, lying about what and how much I had eaten, getting unreasonably upset if anyone asked about what I had eaten. Not only had I lost appetite, but I had even lost a sense of hunger. It just didn't exist. No one knew.
It was this one defining moment that I remember clear as day when I was trying to hide a slice of pica underneath a radiator that it struck me - it had gone too far. And that it was the last moment that I could still turn it around and if I didn't, there was no going back.
So I did, from that day onwards I forced myself to eat. It was miserable, it was a torture, but I knew I had to do it. Weeks, months went by. And finally one day I felt hungry. That was a glorious moment, I knew I was in the clear, I was so excited I even ran up to mom to tell her I was hungry.
Surely with anorexia it's the same as with alcoholism, it doesn't really go away, it's lurking, waiting for a moment when you're in over your head, overwhelmed. I just know what to look out for. I know that food is the first thing that flies right out of the window when I'm struggling when I'm too stressed, or even when I'm too excited and engrossed in an interesting project.
But there are also other things I've learned from this experience. I know, that if we are not doing hard physical labour, we do not need nearly as much food as we've been culturally and psychologically conditioned to believe.
Don't get me wrong here, I do like good food, in fact, if I felt like I can afford it I'd be quite the foodie, because on those rare occasions that I do cook.. well, let's just say, it's not cooking, it's a straight-up witchcraft..
What about the face? Well, not much has changed just yet.
03/11/2019 07:00:
03/11/2019 19:00:
Hugs&Coffee,
~Josie~