Real Medicine

Though I am healthy and consistently weigh enough now, I still struggle with eating issues that often make the simple act of nourishing myself a big, huge deal that just shouldn't be this hard or upsetting. I've been in that icky space lately, only it's been worse than usual since the sex incident last week. So, I was talking to New Guy about the eating difficulties last night and I felt comfortable enough to mention how I have this weird mix up in my feelings with sex and food. Well, maybe I wasn't really completely ready to say that stuff? Or maybe I was. Anyway, after I mentioned this oddity, we started talking about what it is that feels bad to me about eating. And then New Guy was saying things, "...blah, blah, blah, the feeling of fullness, blah..." STOP EVERYTHING. I remember I covered my ears so I wouldn't have to hear anything else. Weird body feelings, nasty mental images, racing head... PANIC. And then New Guy came over to me and held my hand. I ended up clinging to his neck until I was able to stand up and then he brought me to my husband. I went home, still managed to eat dinner and then took a nap.

I had email communication with New Guy last week in order to sort out a misunderstanding. He was refreshingly honest and very kind about it. Then I dreamed of him when I took a nap Sunday. I dreamed he was my insurance agent and that he came to my house, updated my policies and then got into my bed with me and held my hand so I could sleep in peace. I wrote the dream to him Sunday. Then last night he held my hand and then I went home and ate somewhat peacefully in spite of what had happened. Handholding as instant cure? No. But kindness and understanding open the door in ways that facilitate real work. This is not something that I can do alone. And the root of the problem runs so deep that it never would have seen the light of day if I were still drugged or otherwise encouraged to dissociate. I cannot imagine struggling with food this way for the rest of my life. Now maybe someone can really help me improve my quality of life instead of just wanting to drug me and tell me to just keep eating anyway. Such a person would not have been allowed access to the heart of the matter. And then I would not have gained access, either. I think something different is going to happen. I'm sure it won't be easy or overnight, but something different has already begun to happen and it's going to help me have a better life. I think this time I feel strong enough to really try. Because I know New Guy won't abandon me or try to shut me up. He is not afraid of my distress or my material and now I'm a little less afraid of it than I was before.



Edited to Add @ 3:15 --
Since I don't sleep until morning, obviously I need to eat something late at night, too. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to. I turned on the tube earlier to relax and while away a little time and I've made an accidental discovery about one other way that food ties in with sex. I think it's about desire, even though that doesn't quite seem like the right word. I was watching a marathon of Gene Simmons' Family Jewels when I originally typed this post and then there was an hour special of 'Kissteria'. I LOVE Paul Stanley. I watched it twice. And then I was hungry. So I ate. Weird. Anyway, Paul Stanley is still totally gorgeous. And tomato sandwiches are pretty good, too.