Sunday, 22 January 2017

Peanut Butter Dreams

One thing I looked forward to so much this morning I practically dreamed about it: peanut butter on crumpets.

It’s what I’ve eaten for breakfast almost every day for the past seven and a half months, except for a couple of days in Paris in September – and the past three days, where I had room service at a five-star London hotel. (I did not complain that the smoked salmon and eggs were, as I can hear my grandmother saying, “ice cold,” but I was tempted to.)

I spent most of the past three days with a (British) guy who lives in Germany. I met him a couple of months ago, and have spent more of the intervening time than I care to admit whatsapping him. Things are not going according to the script in my head – when do they ever? – or really, in any way that could be termed a forward direction. He’ll be here at least another three days and I’m not at all sure I’ll see him again, which is not a great feeling.

I’m trying to remember that whatever happens, it was a mostly fun three days, and – more to the point of this blog – it was nice to just be able to eat and drink whatever without too much stress. (One of the nights, for example, we went for pie and mash, because it’s something he misses that he can’t get in Germany.) I also skipped the gym without fearing I would never go back again.

It also occurred to me this morning that for the first time in maybe as long as I can remember, I didn’t (and haven’t) automatically assumed that the problem is my weight – that things would be different if I were thinner. In a strange way, this is harder to deal with – to sit with – than just assuming weight or my body is the problem. I don’t know what the problem is, and so I can’t even try to fix it, even if I wanted to. (Leaving aside the issue that the problem may not even be me.) My brain runs through everything I said and did and wants to find fault with it – to find fault with myself. This, I know, is what’s at the bottom of my eating disorder – that food, as they say, is the symptom, not the disease. Eating more (or less, or exercising more) won’t change this feeling. I hope eventually I figure out what will.


  1. It's so nice to read this and hear that sense of comfort you clearly feel with food. I'm jealous right now since I don't have that together. I was derailed in my progress on that front when my mother fell and eventually passed away in November last year. It was just the worst time of my life so I'm trying to balance not beating myself up and getting back to healthy eating.

    Congratulations on your impressive progress, I know you have worked very intently on it.

    1. I'm so sorry for your loss. Please don't beat yourself up about the healthy eating in the middle of all that. Sometimes when things are hard we just have to get through however we can. Lots of love xx

  2. I know that what I'm about to write is stupid but I still want to say it. Stop it - stop trying to find fault with yourself. You're great and if it didn't work out, then it might well not have been your fault, or his - it might just have been that you weren't suited. I know just "stopping it" is easier said than done, but I hope you can.

    Also, since you visited both Richard and I eat crumpets often and I also do the peanut butter thing, not for every breakfast but at least half the week. Thanks, it is a great brekkie.

    Lesley xx

    1. Thanks, Lesley. I know that (intellectually), but it's still where I go sometimes. Yes to the peanut butter! (I have hoarded my Yorkshire one and have it only occasionally.) Hoping to run with you soon xx

  3. I have been reading your blog for years and am always astonished how much I releate to your words. (you say them better than I ever could). I do the same thing with men.."if the problem isn't my weight, then what is it?".
    Wish you peace and happiness. x