I’ve lost 14% of my body weight, and I didn’t have it to lose.
“You have to eat”:
“You have to eat” has been said to me every single week. …as if I don’t get it or as if I planned to lose any in the first place. I eat what I can, when I can. Some days I may be able to stomach decent (albeit still small) portions, whereas others the very thought turns my stomach and leaves me at risk of throwing up and/or running to the toilet.
I still find it hard to cook anything. ‘Dinner for one’… It’s so unappealing… unappetizing. We enjoyed cooking together, dining together, …everything together… having meals ready for the other upon arrival home, going out for date night because we didn’t feel like cooking… Now I find myself eating things he didn’t like, purely because I can’t face preparing what we typically ate together. …but this essentially leaves me with salads and fish. (…and actually, I don’t cook the fish, it’s takeout…) Cooking for others is out of the question still; there’s only one person I want to cook for, and that isn’t even me.
Being the last thing we did together, I have a hard time going to restaurants now. I have mastered the takeout option, and if there’s an uncrowded patio I’m able to partake… But beyond that, I’m not there yet. I’m not sure the reasoning behind… I know the restaurant had nothing to do with his death… I know dining with other people won’t erase the memory of our last meal… Let’s face it, there is just one person I want at the table with me and it’s not possible.
Single portioned meals, frozen. When I have ‘able moments’, I try to help myself in the future. Cut up the entire lettuce… Cook the entire package of bacon… Cook a few chicken breasts… Then single-portion it up and into the freezer it goes for those many days where I’m unable to stand in the kitchen, let alone cook. Unhungry, yet knowing my body needs something.
Wake up with a tense stomach. Go all day with a tense stomach. Go to bed with a tense stomach. Repeat.
Thankfully, in warning me of what stress can cause, people are now telling me to be careful of stomach ulcers. …great… I suppose I didn’t have enough to worry about already (!?); let’s just add that to the list of things I have little to no control over that can impact my current already-sad existence.
I find that I do actually eat better when I am with others. This is both good and bad.
– It’s food going into my body.
– It’s companionship to ease the alone-ness in offering a distraction.
– I don’t have visitors three times per day, nor every single day.
– I need to be able to eat properly on my own.
– It’s as if a gathering is occurring and I consistently wonder why my husband isn’t with us because he so loved entertaining.
….So…. I eat what I can, when I can…