“Why the hell am I doing this?” Has been my prevailing thought regarding the Whole30 the last few days. Yesterday I almost threw in the towel. I was super busy, a wrench got thrown in the day and I ended up without any food for an extended period of time. I was starving, and all I had were the kids’s beef jerky and Pirate’s Booty. I hemmed and hawed about whether it would be better to just eat the jerky (which had sugar and soy) or stay hungry. Ultimately I decided to just deal with the hunger, but I was doing a lot of mental cussing about how stupid this was. Hungry = eat and I’m not interested in altering that equation.
Total honesty, I have snacked the past two nights after dinner. Apple with almond butter. Compliant, but snacking. The first night I was not hungry, but I was home alone. My husband is out of town, but my mom was here. She came into town for a friend’s 60th birthday party that night. A party I was invited to but declined because I didn’t want to deal with the seeing a bunch of people I hadn’t seen in a billion years without drinking. I also didn’t want to deal with other people’s drinking. But as she got dressed up and ready to go, I felt a little pang of missing out. I kind of wanted to go, even if I wouldn’t be drinking. Also got in a loop of thinking people will judge me for not coming. Whatever. So I was home alone and there was nothing on TV and I was too tired to read. So I ate a little.
Last night I was actually kind of hungry. Probably because of the food fuck up from earlier in the day and also dance. I guess I could have just had an extra meal, but went for the sweet thing. I don’t feel so bad.
Had my first class yesterday afternoon. I think it can be difficult to notice changes in your own body because they happen over time. I bend down to pick up something every day, every day it gets a little easier until one day it’s effortless without you even noticing. Last night I was doing movements I hadn’t done in a year, so to come back to them in a different body was… strange. I’ve lost some weight. Enough to make some things feel foreign. And the thing that was most shocking to me about that was that my reaction wasn’t, “Hooray, fabulous!” I had a little dissociation. Who’s body is this!? Very weird.
Costco used to be my favorite place at Christmas. I’m sure you see where this is going.
I was there by myself on Sunday. It’s rare that I get to shop by myself. We needed gas, diapers and dog food, but I decided to seize the opportunity for some me time by doing a zombie-like stroll through the entire store.
The liquor and sugar is out of control this time of year. That must have been why I loved it so much. Specialty chocolates, truffles, peppermint bark and this crap. Super-size bottles of bourbon in fancy boxes. Sometimes with novelty glasses! An expanded champagne selection and a whole separate section dedicated to the booze that is on sale. I can practically feel the fireworks going off in my neural synapses. I’ve been in the store since the holiday stuff arrived, but hadn’t paid much attention until Sunday.
I wasn’t really bothered until a man passed me and in his cart he had 6 bottles of what used to be my favorite wine. You see, they’ve never carried this wine at Costco. I was making special trips to buy it at a wine store. I freaking loved that wine. Seeing that Costco had also discovered it and picked it up almost took my breath away. I suddenly felt a big sense of loss. Like a friend of mine said here, I was queen of good, affordable wine. I was a connoisseur in my own fantasies, but it was like my talent was being confirmed by Costco. I was so good at drinking. I relished researching, shopping and tasting wine. And always more, more, more. A true love affair. A fucking alcoholic. I’m also a pretty good baker. These talents make so much sense now.
I guess I haven’t contemplated a drink too seriously since the very earliest days of sobriety. I mostly get sad and resentful that it’s not an option for me. I’m not sure if you noticed, but what happened at Costco began before I even got there. See when I mentioned that I was trying to steal some me-time, that should have been a dead giveaway that the trip wasn’t going to end well. I went there looking for more than just diapers. I was looking to feel better. What I got was a million reminders of the things that I can no longer use to make me feel better. I resisted actually walking through the liquor sections. I’m lucky Costco hasn’t carried Moose Munch for a couple years because I had already decided I would buy it if I found it. You better believe I looked for it.
I’ve read a couple other blogs also talking about dealing with more cravings lately. I agree that it’s the time of year. Everything so shiny and special, everything I’m missing out on, everything the holidays used to be, all the good times I had drinking through this time of year, fun and warmth and togetherness, but I think most of all it looked really pretty and sparkling. And it seems both easy and impossible to get that back. Hard to accept that it won’t be that way again. Hard to accept that I’ll never relax into the ritual of planning and executing a perfect holiday dinner wine pairing. Hard to accept that the relief is really gone.