Is it possible to hate words, a phrase, a particular combination of letters and syllables, words that have nothing to do with race, ethnicity, gender or gender preference?
Of course it is.
For several months now, I’ve dreaded hearing “What’s for dinner?” Not because I had fallen behind schedule, failed to grocery shop or simply did not want to cook, but because that question: “What’s for dinner?” prompted another.
Is it healthy?
How many calories does it have?
What’s the serving size?
Are you kidding me? I don’t know… It’s a friggin’ deep dish homemade chicken pot pie it has cream cheese in it. So I’m going to say it has at least one million or more. Needless to say, she did not find that funny.
It wasn’t meant to be.
Before my daughter was officially diagnosed with the eating disorder anorexia nervosa, she’d asked that question and several other food related questions every night (before dinner and after dinner – sometimes even before going to bed) for approximately 6 months. Eating became a very complicated obsession for her an increasingly frustrating for everyone else.
As a mom I can honestly say I have never purposely prepared and served anything unhealthy. Cupcakes and doughnuts were never pantry staples for dinner nor were candy and ice cream on the menu for breakfast. That phrase – that question had become insulting.
I now realize her questioning “What’s for dinner?” was a preventive measure. It allowed her to control and strategize what she would need to do in the days following to offset any damage (aka – weight gain); whether it be by exercise or restriction.
I knew without knowing. However, I didn’t want to believe that food, and something as natural as eating; had become a problem. Her preoccupation with food and various rituals before, after and while eating became highly disturbing. Everything made her stomach hurt – EVERYTHING…immediately after eating.
I needed to seek professional help.
For the past month, she’s been seeing a team of individuals who specialize in treating eating disorders. It feels strange to say that she needs to learn to eat again.
Each week she has to create and submit a meal plan consisting of Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner and two snacks based on the guidelines established by her dietitian. And here’s the thing, if she puts it on the meal plan she has to eat it – this isn’t just a homework assignment to see if she knows what healthy eating looks like.
She has to do it.
She has to own it.
Each week the menu is posted on the fridge. 2 carbs + 3 protein + 1-2 fats, it’s what’s for dinner.
I’m Just Sayin’…(Damn!)