Food

I don't like eating. I don't even know if I really like food. But I know I don't like eating food.

I didn't realize this until I was in a nutritionist's office a few months ago and when I was describing what I normally eat she asked me what my favourite meals were. I didn't have an answer for her even though I can name a few foods I like. She put her pen down and looked at me thoughtfully. "Do you even like to eat?" she asked. And I had to think about it for a moment, but when I did, I was genuinely surprised to discover that the answer was no.

I know people who love to sit down to a meal every day and people who absolutely adore cooking and creating delicious things to make. I don't.

This recent celiac/gluten no gluten thing really had me struggling with food for a year or so, and the stomach pains I was going through before that really made eating more of a chore than anything else. Which, I suppose, is understandable when you're either restricted in what you can eat and nervous that you might accidentally ingest something that would kill you or are doubled over in pain every time you eat.

Add the pain, discomfort and worry to the fact that I never learned how to cook, and until recently never needed to (either living with my parents or a boyfriend who'd cook for us) and the fact that once I come home from work the last thing I want to do is figure out how to whip up a meal that won't make a mess of my tiny (and I do mean tiny: stretch out your arms, and that's more counter space than I have) kitchen or set off my smoke alarm and it's no wonder my freezer's full of microwaveable meals.

I do eat, mind you. But I will take something easy over something that needs to be made any day. So there are days, especially on weekends, where I'll go the entire day without eating a meal. I'll graze, snacking all day long until the day's over and I'm scratching my head trying to figure out if I actually ate any protein at all today, or, you know, anything other than what was tastiest and most easily grabbed.

I have good intentions and will print out recipes and buy all the ingredients and bring them all home and put them away but more often than not, the ingredients sit there unused until they go bad.

I'm lazy. I don't enjoy it. The process of cooking. And since I'm not one to enjoy the eating of the meals either, it all seems pointless.

I've put on some weight recently (not that anyone but my scale and my clothes and I have noticed) and I know it's down to the fact that once they told me I could try eating gluten after a year off, I went a little crazy. And while 10 pounds are hard to lose, they're as easy as pie to put on. Literally.

So now I'm trying to get control of how I eat. (The part where I grab whatever chocolates, sweets, ice cream or candy I can get my hands on whenever I'm upset or hurt or emotional or just want to is one I've been struggling with for a while.) I'm trying to really improve what I eat. (Going on iron supplements last year has helped my mood and energy enormously, but I also know how much better I feel and strangely enough, how much better I sleep when I've had protein. I also know that I should probably eat vegetables. Or, in the summer, I should probably eat more than just fruit.) And I'm trying to get to a place where I can a) enjoy cooking b) become quite good at it and c) enjoy eating what I cook.

It's all a big jumble though. The things I like to eat (taste wise) tend not to be the healthiest. But when I'm down or stressed or hurting or anything, they're my go-to fix and that's a huge issue. I'm lazy and don't like to or know how to cook. That's a big problem. I don't enjoy eating, don't look forward to the process of sitting down for a meal, so there's no motivation to learn to cook, overcome my laziness, or make better choices in how I deal with my emotions. It's all a jumbled contorted, confused pile of yuck and I don't know how to get to a place where it all smooths out and works.

Who ever thought such a necessary thing could be such a pain?