At my appointment yesterday, Dr. P and I spent most of the time talking about food, the unconscious-but-not-totally-unconscious restricting that has been happening, and some of the eating disordered tendencies I've still been having DESPITE doing pretty amazingly re food for the past 6 months to a year or so. While I was talking to her, I realized that I still have so many weird quirks about food—always eating at the same time, always eating the same things, only eating certain things at certain times, (usually) only eating things for which I know the nutritional content, eating a larger portion of my calories later in the day even though I'm usually starving between breakfast and lunch, and saving up calories in anticipation of....what? I don't even know. So yeah, still got some things to work on.
Something that kept coming up over and over again in therapy was that I HATE talking about food and calories and meal plans. HATE. IT. I am so freaking sick of food and eating disorders and all that, and I hate that it's taking up space in my head. Eating disorders are boring and exhausting and I just want to be done. Though of course, I can't be done with all these weird food rules and obsessions; I have to deal with them. You know? But I'm SICK OF IT. It doesn't help that I also despise cooking, baking, grocery shopping, preparing food, packing food, choosing food...you name it. A housewife, I am not. (Hear that, future husband? You best brush up on your cooking skills, honey!)
This has been on my mind because a friend and I were moaning and commiserating about schoolwork, and she said something like: "If I could drop out of school tomorrow and be married with kids, I'd do it." And part of me was all like YES I LOVE BABIES ME TOO! But then I realized, wait, no. There is so much I want to accomplish, and yes it is exhausting and overwhelming, but there is something so exciting and satisfying and fulfilling about working towards something that has nothing to do with food or weight or calories—or even about myself, really. It's all about the work, and it doesn't really matter what I look like or came from, and no one knows about my history, and I'm not responsible for anything except doing the work. And I feel like I need the chance to shed all this ED crap and experience that for a while before I pour myself into Wife and Mommy mode—but of course I can't do any of it unless I'm healthy and sane and reasonably happy.
Well sheesh, that was a word-puke for you! Hope everyone's having a great week.