Porringer 1- 2 eggs, 2 rashers, 2 cup coffee with 4 tsp double cream
Binge- pot of tea, 3 plain rolls with butter and cheese, 1 full size bag of crisps
Porringer 2- glass of wine, beef and carrots, sauce
Evening coffee- 2 cup coffee with 4 tsp double cream, 2 mint humbugs (hard candy)
The binge yesterday was unexpected, meaning that I did not struggle with the thoughts beforehand, and I did not want to…but did. Underlying emotion was probably resentment as husband is stepping up his campaign to get me to work because he highly resents having to work himself. I refuse to tell him that I already bought a calendar to keep track of all the jobs I apply for so that he can see I am productive. Because he does not know my intention of starting to look in the new year, he feels it necessary to talk around the subject by mentioning how much nicer it would be to have more income, or how we can’t afford something or like this morning, go on about how he cannot wait for retirement because he hates working. I let him talk it out and then like a dutiful wife, I burst his bubble.
He droned on about how far away retirements is, how he’ll have to suffer another 11 years. Out comes my pin, and I remind him just how short 11 years is and exactly how close to 70 he will be. His face fell and shock overcame him as I continued to point out how these are the golden years, the years we can still function, have our health and in 11 years we may very well be wishing we were still in our 50’s and working. His bubble busted, he admitted I was right. Off to work he went a bit humbled. But these feelings he has about work, I too share. It is triggering me too. The problem lies in that we both had circumstances in the last couple of years that allowed us to not work for a short period while the other did, when both of us never had that concept or luxury before. We both started work in our teens and NEVER had a period of unemployment. So now that we have a taste of it, we certainly cling to the idea of retirement like it is some kind of golden ring almost within reach.
My own resentment about returning to work is causing me to have insecurities and puts me into a vulnerable place with bingeing. I went for the usual food shopping and without so much as giving it a thought, picked up three rolls. I did notice I had not desire for anything else, although ED was urging that I might as well make it a proper binge, I wasn’t really interested. When I got home, I realized I had forgotten the wine, so went back and saw the crisps on sale and grabbed a bag of those. Once again I thought, geez, I am here, I might as well get something sweet and it sounded awful and I didn’t. I almost put the crisps back on the shelf. This isn’t want I wanted at all. I did not want to binge, but I did not want to sit with the feelings getting all stormy within me either.
But here I go again, drenching my gut with wheat and the expected result happened and I sit at the table this morning with my pin ready to burst husband’s bubbles but it is my own backside I really want to stick the pin in. I am wallowing an whining in my own self pity and wasting time because the very thing he wants to lunge for is scaring the hell out of me. I sat in the doctors office on Christmas Eve and was asked if I still had a womb. This question was asked because of my age, no other reason. It was one of those defining moments that make one so acutely aware that they can no longer get away with being thought of as an adult, now it has all crossed the line over into the old people’s court (people without usual body parts). No so long ago, no doctor would have asked me that question. But at my age, it is common to be wombless I suppose. So between the fast foreword my husband wants and the fast back into the past I want to go, stuffing 3 rolls into my mouth to prevent screaming seemed the right thing to do. It wasn’t, of course.
The crisps I ate.
Three of these I ate (about the size of a hamburger roll).
And I also bought 5 pate’s as they were on sale:
The ones I bought were the brussels cranberry and port, which is a lovely deep colour, unlike the photo above (which I grabbed off the net to show the brand and size). My plan was to have one for lunch each day. Remembering that I love low carb foods pushed me into considering how far away from what I want to do I have gotten. Sometimes I feel like seaweed caught in the ocean tides, washing up on the shore and being pulled back into the sea, over and over again, endlessly hooked in the scheme of how life works whether I want it to or not. Is it better to fight hard to get back to the deep sea or go with the flow and see what the beach has to offer?
Oh, and while I am calling this eating episode a binge, is it really? It is not how I imagine normal eating to be, it is not extreme by past binge standards. I usually gauge a binge as more of a behaviour than the actual amount eaten, but yesterday, I didn’t want it. There wasn’t an urge…so was it a binge or a frustration spelled out in overeating?
I am pretty sure I can stop it today. I want to do the major cleaning before the New Year tradition, so I will be busy enough to not think of eating, there is nothing in the cupboards that can call my name and husband will be off the next 5 days. Hopefully he’ll stop the retirement/money talk so I don’t have to ride into the New Year on the guilty charges of not working.