Weetabix x 2.
Wholemeal toast x 2, butter.
Pork and apple casserole, carrot and swede mash, mashed potato.
Jam and coconut sponge, custard.
Turkey mayo sandwich on white bread, 5-bean salad, side salad.
Cherry full-fat yoghurt.
Weetabix x 2.
So you may have noticed I’ve got pretty over-comfortable with the Weetabix. Room for challenge and change. At the moment the dietician is okay with me choosing this every time, as it’s challenging to meal-plan as it is. We can choose from bran flakes, muesli, cornflakes or rice krispies too… but at least the two wheaty biscuits are reliable – same shape, same size. I’m still yet to trust the spontaneous bowl-measures of the other cereals after becoming so reliant on weighing all my foods.
Today’s hot meal choices, had to involve the breaking of one of my Eating Disorder’s rules: to not eat meat more than once a day. So I tend to pick and choose according to this. However, as there’s a few rules to take on board, sometimes I have to rebel and pick the easiest of a bad bunch. Today I couldn’t listen to the meat rule, as the other sandwich option was cheese, which feels too difficult now I’m on full-portions… even though I quite fancy it. All I can think of is the clumps clogging my stomach.
As for choosing the main pudding… it was either that or the lemon tart. Sponge and custard versus pastry. Equally as terrifying. Again, the best of a bad bunch. When I say ‘bad’ they aren’t that AT ALL. They’re perfectly tasty and acceptable. But Anorexia controls the meal-plan and I am sidekick. I don’t get a word in yet – because at the end of the day I still have to eat (what it feels currently feels like) an insane amount of food, so it hunts down the safest choices it could possibly make, with all it’s guns and tactics.
One positive to come of the day was an unexpected challenge thrown my way. I was told 10 minutes before tea, that the kitchen had sent the wrong colour sandwich – they only had white. Sometimes being put on the spot, is the best way to confront a challenge. No anxiety stood in the way to put it off and off. I did ask if we had any brown bread that we could use and transfer the filling over, which we did. But then as the nurse was putting spread on the slices, Anorexia sussed reasons why I might be making the ‘wrong’ choice.
It’s bloody suspicious about anything! …what if the brown bread was bigger than the pre-packed sandwich? …how could I trust that this nurse wouldn’t put on too much spread compared to the pre-made sandwich?
So I decided to f*** it, gamble and stick with the white. Did my nose fall off? No. I don’t know what it is about white; it’s a rule that doesn’t make any sense. It’s just as healthy as brown bread. For some reason I was worried it would taste ‘sweeter’ than wholemeal. That it would taste generally less ‘healthy’. That it would contain less fibre because of the colour, and make me feel more stodgy. Again, Anorexia always looks for a reason… behind the wardrobe, in old socks, under the carpet.
I remember learning from the dietician at my last inpatient admission, that white bread actually has more of certain minerals than wholemeal, including iron. I think the white race of loaves gets a hard time! I think I prefer it’s softer texture than brown which tends to get dryer quicker.
I’ll stop doing Kingsmill a favour now and stop babbling on about bread…
I think that’s a sign it’s time for sleep.