I went to a few appointments so dismal they made me feel beyond help, and then -- just when I was about to give up -- I went to a therapist who said: "Start where you are and you can give me context when you need to."
That's a long way of saying: After -- checks notes -- nearly three years' absence, the thought of trying to catch anyone up all at once is daunting. (That's making the gigantic assumption there is anyone after all this time. I also can't help thinking I should be switching to a newsletter or yelling into the void on Clubhouse, except neither of those is semi-anonymous.)
Anyway.
Tere from Tallinn, Estonia, where I downloaded a healthy recipes app and speak just enough Estonian to understand that one of the acceptable meat substitutes is 65g of caviar (red or black.)
Why, you may wonder, can't I just use British or Australian or US recipes?
Because they call for all manner of ingredients I can't get here, never mind that these days the grocery stores here feel almost Soviet. Tomatoes galore one day; nothing the next. Ditto Brussels sprouts, which appeared once and I haven't seen them since. And zucchini (which, somewhat adorably, the Estonians call "summer pumpkin.") Forget about ground turkey or chicken sausage or any kind of "lighter" staple -- though there are moose sausages galore... And despite knowing all the Estonian words for chicken, beef, pork, etc, I still cannot decipher the cuts of meat either by label or by sight.
In the past when I was unhappy with my weight I could eat ready meals for days, not because they're so wonderful but because I have always found great safety in numbers printed on the back of a package. I could find whatever was the most filling (at least relatively speaking) and eat it again and again. Not anymore. I've got someone else to think about, and I can't imagine telling him we're going to eat, say, porridge for dinner because it's easy.
It's been incredibly tough to let someone in on what I'm doing -- and to have to call attention to my weight (not, I'm sure, that he hasn't noticed I'm not the same size I was when we met.) Tonight I portioned out some leftovers for lunch tomorrow and there were about five new potatoes left in the pot.
"Can't you just put these in your Tupperware?" he said.
"No, because mine's a portion," I said.
He looked at the potatoes, looked at me, looked back at the potatoes and started to say something. Then apparently he thought the better of it.
Day 13.
