CarroolFoodNarrative

Me, Myself, and Food

There seems to be a common trend with what we do and how we live. Food seems to be this common trend. It is always around us and it is a main source of happiness. Think about it, when we are sad we resort to food, when we have a party theres always food, when meeting with friends there will most likely be food involved. Somehow food makes us happy and it is such an easy way to get people together. When food is used the wrong way or you do not prepare it the correct, healthy way you can become depressed and food can become less of a comfort for you.Image

Growing up I was lucky enough to have food on the table every night. My mother and father are both excellent cooks. When I was younger my parents always made me try all kinds of foods. Thats probably why I am not a picky eater now. Preparing meals and eating together as a family were and still are always important growing up in my house. If Dad was working late we all had to wait for him to get home so that we could eat as a family and converse about our day. The dinner table was always my favorite place to be around 5:30pm everyday. My family and I would talk about our day, laugh and bond over things that went on that day while eating the food that my mother worked so hard on.

Growing up with two other siblings who were both involved in sports and other extra curricular activities was hard for my parents to have time to cook and manage to have us all eat together, but somehow my Mom always had a way of making it all work. As my brother and I got older we both started helping out preparing dinner. My brother of course got the “good cooking genes,” while I am a master of the microwave! Unfortunately, I cannot cook to save my life.

Image
Although I treasured dinner time and loved my moms cooking, things started to change for me. See my mother cooks like her mother cooks and my grandmother is keeping the butter companies up and running for sure. My mom cooked with a lot of butter and fatty stuff, which makes the food delicious of course and I could taste every bit of buttery goodness going into my mouth, but it is terrible for you. After watching her cook I did not want to eat anymore. Seeing all that butter, fat and grease in the food made me look at myself and I started to put myself down and regret loving my moms food so much.

I stopped loving her food and myself at the same time. I kept telling myself that if I did not grow up on this food I probably would be skinnier. Thinking this way no longer made food a happiness for me. Food had been a comfort for such a long time and now I wanted nothing to do with it. I started to hate family dinners and stopped helping my mom prepare food. I started eating less and less of her food and told myself “If I stop eating this food completely I would be happier with myself, but I wouldn’t want to hurt my moms feelings.”

Image
I started eating he food again and started loving family dinner too. I still was not happy, like I was before. I knew what I was eating was bad and I told myself if I kept indulging in this food I would not be happy anymore. So instead of portioning my food and talking to my mom about the way she cooked I took matters into my own hands. I started binge eating, taking in all the food my mom cooked, those greasy hamburgers, tacos and fried food. After I ate it I would feel bad and would resort to throwing it up. For a while this was maintaining my happiness. “Its was a win/win right? I can still eat the foods I want and stay thin” I kept telling myself. My happiness started to decline. I was not enjoying family dinner anymore because all I could think about was getting sick after and it was my main priority.

About a year had past and I was still binging and purging. I was no longer happy and was still unsatisfied with my self image. More unsatisfied as I had been in a long time because I was also feeling terrible and was no longer healthy. On a daily basis I was shaking, had no balance, slept a lot, had migraines all the time and no longer had an appetite. I was at my breaking point when I finally decided to get help. My mom was there for me and she did not realize I was so concerned with the way she cooked. She started cooking healthier, I started eating again, which lead to fun family dinners and overall lead to me gaining my happiness back. Getting help was not as hard as I thought it was going to be. All I had to do was speak up and talk about what I needed and what so many other people need, but they do not have the resources for.

Image
Food is a pleasure if you just need to know how to use it correctly. Once I had the correct resources and ability to cook food in a healthy way, I became happy. Living in my home with all the wrong foods around was hard, but after making changes it became easy to cook healthy food and living at college, away from home I now know how to cook healthy on my own and I no longer worry about food. After eating right and learning how to cook the right way I gained more happiness.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Narratives. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s