I started crying a bit as I cleared the carbs from my fridge. Not a storm of tears, just a few. Still, surprising.
I've long made batches of brown rice and oats (steel cut), and then popped servings in the microwave. It's a fast way to make a meal happen, and time-efficient, as both grains take a while to cook.
Its also a great way to have available carbs for binging. I didn't call it that, but there's been many a day when I eaten only bowls of oats with brown sugar and soy milk. Getting rid of them means saying goodbye to the convenience, and the opportunity to lose myself in quick, hot, carbs.
I would congratulate myself for eating organic mounds of hot carbs, as if that was more acceptable and refined (much like an alcoholic I knew, deep in denial, who said, "I'm not an alcoholic! I don't drink wine!")
So there I was, emptying out the oats, the rice, the organic wheat bread. I also got rid of some old frozen french fries, some moldy tortillas. Luckily for me, a kind woman I hooked up with on Freecycle will use these items (plus my juicer pulp) to feed her compost pile and chickens.
Why the tears? Likely the lost possibility of having quick access to my favorite binge foods (and immediacy is key). Binging's a word I never applied to this form of eating, but I did it, in secret, and with that sad, desperate hunger. And it so seldom worked.
And maybe the tears (I have some now) are about admitting that, about accepting that.
I've long made batches of brown rice and oats (steel cut), and then popped servings in the microwave. It's a fast way to make a meal happen, and time-efficient, as both grains take a while to cook.
Its also a great way to have available carbs for binging. I didn't call it that, but there's been many a day when I eaten only bowls of oats with brown sugar and soy milk. Getting rid of them means saying goodbye to the convenience, and the opportunity to lose myself in quick, hot, carbs.
I would congratulate myself for eating organic mounds of hot carbs, as if that was more acceptable and refined (much like an alcoholic I knew, deep in denial, who said, "I'm not an alcoholic! I don't drink wine!")
So there I was, emptying out the oats, the rice, the organic wheat bread. I also got rid of some old frozen french fries, some moldy tortillas. Luckily for me, a kind woman I hooked up with on Freecycle will use these items (plus my juicer pulp) to feed her compost pile and chickens.
Why the tears? Likely the lost possibility of having quick access to my favorite binge foods (and immediacy is key). Binging's a word I never applied to this form of eating, but I did it, in secret, and with that sad, desperate hunger. And it so seldom worked.
And maybe the tears (I have some now) are about admitting that, about accepting that.
Eating is a very emotional issue. Tears are appropriate.
ReplyDeleteI get addicted to certain foods. I remember when I would stock up on Dannon coffee yogurt. I would only eat one a day, but I had to have it. Right now my addiction is the chocolate brownie Luna bar. Not good.
For carbs, I cook and freeze a large batch of sweet potatoes. It’s a starch, but very nutritious. I love the taste. I add a small amount to every vegetable meal and it’s more satisfying. Don’t quite consider it an addiction yet. I was cutting the sweet potatoes into small slices and baking. Today I’m steaming for the first time. Much less work and minus the olive oil. :-)
I envy you with your sweet potatoes...
ReplyDeleteI've gone on (what I call) food jags for much of my life. Tofutti blintzes, chocolate ice cream and steel cut oats were ones of long standing.
And yes, eating *is* a very emotion-laden issue (for me, anyway). We were very, very poor when I was growing up, and sometimes we literally had no food. Both my older sister and I dreamed of growing up so we could have food, all the food we wanted, all the types and kinds of foods we liked.
ReplyDeleteSo coming into this new place means letting go of those long-held dreams that represented safety, care, even hallmarks of adulthood. Those aspirations that no longer serve me. Still, many tears.