It took awhile to be ready to write this morning. Yesterday was a good day, but did not go as I planned and that is something I need to address and understand. I am full of regrets this morning. Sigh. This is a long post.
The day started out good. I had a plan in place and it was a reasonable one. Normal breakfast, normal lunch, port during the day while watching films, fish and chips and a bottle of Guinness for dinner and some sort of dessert with after dinner coffee.
Note: ED stands for Eating Disorder, I use it in terms of the voice of addiction.
The nice beginnings soon unravelled. I can’t say why I take that first step, nor can I say why that first initial choice makes everything else fall apart. That first mistake yesterday was opening the bottle of port too soon.
My eye was on the port. A whole bottle to myself, as husband doesn’t like it. It was a heady idea, I NEVER drink in the morning, but it was a very dark morning, I was in the mood to take a long hot bubble bath with candlelight and Sinatra playing in the background and unfortunately it was only 8am. I thought the first ED thought, hell, it’s my birthday, I can do as I want! So I opened the bottle, poured some into my lovely pewter chalice and sank deep into soapy hot water. It was divine. I got all Zen-like, noting the sensation of the hot water, the play of candlelight on the pewter, sighed over the music. The port was delicious and I sipped the tiniest of sips to really enjoy the deep rich flavour. All of this was perfect.
After the bath, I sat and looked at stuff online, sipping another cupful. I am now starting to feel it and see that it is 10am and I can go to the shops. Off I go, feeling slightly woozy and not liking that (I hate feeling more than relaxed with drinking). I buy the planned items at one shop, looking over their dessert options and nothing grabbed me. I went to the two bakeries and nothing appealed to me either. I noticed that probably nothing was appealing because suddenly I felt sort of sick, with only port in my stomach and breakfast having been an early 5am meal. I needed food in my stomach and this is the danger point, to be shopping for food and needing food at the same time. I tried to reassure myself that all I needed to do was buy the dessert and go home and eat the sausages I defrosted. I decided to go to the next shop and just get something frozen so that I would not be tempted to eat it before dinner. This is what I brought home.
They unfortunately had a sale. 2 for £3 of boxed desserts. Sigh. I already had in hand the frozen dessert that I have been wanting to try, vanilla slices, a sort of napoleon pastry I adored as a child. Of course the childhood pastry was a fine bakery pastry and I could not hope to get the same in a cheap box of frozen stuff. However, ED reminded me that the sale would allow husband to have a choice for dessert and they were truly small (I put my hand in the photo for a reference). I wanted to believe this, it made sense enough, although I could have disputed the logic as self serving and really had nothing to do with how many desserts my husband needed to choose from. Yet, I also bought a mini chocolate cake and a mini toffee cheesecake and felt I was doing the best thing with the sale and all. Then suddenly, without thinking it over, I grabbed the two for £1 prawn crisps before heading to the cashier. I had a sudden whim of imagining a little party for myself. Drinking and crisps were the old favourite thing to do and now seemed a wonderful idea. Those crisps were my undoing and so was the ED logic.
I came home and made the sausages. They were so good and the sick feeling vanished instantly. Mistake number two was opening those bags of prawn crisps to have with the port. Had I stuck to lunch as planned, I would have been fine. Thus, more port and crisps somehow melted all resolve and the predictable frenzy began. The napoleons were in finger bars, unlike the cakes where I would have to cut into them. This is where the ED sickness really takes hold, there was that inevitable glee of the secrecy involved. I could take all the bars out, put them on a plate, throw away the box that says 12 bars on it and who would know any were missing? My angelic intention was to eat just one or two. I ate all 12. I ATE ALL TWELVE. Damn it. As an aside, I did eat my sausages in the porringer, but the crisp and bars were not. I should have forced myself to use the bowl and note what happened with my thinking. That would have been far more interesting.
The sugar and alcohol soon combusted inside me, the sheer mass of it was making me feel ill and about to burst. I suffered the rest of the afternoon, so uncomfortable from the fullness. The pleasant relaxing sensations of the port were transitioning into plain tiredness. I wanted to take a nap, but it was too late in the day. Husband would soon be home with the fish and chips and oh, how I knew I ruined my chances of really enjoying that as I so wanted. I felt like I could not eat another bite but the shameful secrecy of bingeing prevented me from letting on that I could hardly eat the fun dinner husband went out of his way to bring home. I did eat it, and even forced the desserts as though I had not had any yet. I silently felt the pain and the regrets of such foolishness.
As with any addiction, there is the pleasure point and the tipping point. Most of the pleasure is in the anticipation and those first few bites (sips, hits, whatever). The gluttony of wanting more and getting away with it is the high. The tipping point is the decent into misery and regret. The two go together and that damn tipping point moves up another notch, make the pleasure point so much closer to the tip over. After watching what people binge on YouTube, I am almost angry that I cannot even come close to the amounts in those binges, yet the nearly once a week binge has made me re-gain 37 pounds!
Here is dinner. Since I knew we would be sharing the meal, I made a salad with homemade bleu cheese dressing to round it out. We each had a fish fillet and the chips you see in my porringer is all that I had. I did not finish my salad, the beer in the small glass is all I had of that. We didn’t open the second bottle of beer, but saved it for another time.
The toffee cheese cake and chocolate cake were even smaller out of the boxes! Of these I had this much:
NO virtue here. I was still sick from the 12 bars and prawn crisps!
Of the desserts, we ended up liking the chocolate cake which had mousse as the filler and frosting, it was light in texture and not overly sweet. We both agreed that this would be a consideration in a future need for dessert. As for the cheesecake, it was not at all like the baked cheesecakes our family was good at making, it was simply a sweet gooey dessert. The 12 vanilla bars? The pastry part was like card-board and they were so plain they tasted nothing like real napoleons. Looking back, had I just bought the chocolate cake and not the prawn crisps, bars and cheesecake, everything would have been fine. Without the addiction cue of the crisps, I would have not drunk more port. I managed to polish off 3/4 of the bottle! 1/3 would have been more reasonable.
I will stop here, but I intend to decide on how to handle Christmas long before it arrives. Today, I am back on my three porringers of food. I missed showing a fish salad I made the other day that I really liked:
This had white fish, mayonnaise, shredded raw carrot, curry and I dosed the top with crab pate. Yum. I love the crispness of the raw carrot, I usually put it in a mayonnaise base salad for the texture contrast. The crab added a zing. I love this stuff, but try to use it sparingly as it does have sugar listed.