A while ago, I wrote a post about the food I’ve been able to enjoy while here at the House. Our cook, Memen, is AMAZING and I am so thankful that we have her (despite how bad I often feel about it, I know that she has a stable job and home and she is doing what she loves–and is great at). While her food is incredible, I often feel as if I’m just not hungry. Maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s just that I don’t eat a ton anyway, maybe it’s that sometimes I just want a freaking burger or piece of pizza (and not the rice that I have nearly every day), maybe it’s my insecurity about my appearance (and not wanting to gain weight AGAIN) spiraling out of control, or maybe it’s something else entirely.
I struggle a lot with this. I confessed to “PeaceCYCLE Rose” earlier that I feel conflicted because as soon as I try to eat even a bite (at lunch, normally it’s just lunch–I’d do away with that meal if I could), I feel as if I’m going to be sick. It takes a whole lot of water and procrastination for me to finish even a small bowl–which is a rarity in itself, since I hear “piti manje” on a daily basis. But I feel so bad! Memen’s a great cook, but I’m not hungry, PLUS the real kicker is that I’m here in this country that I’ve heard called a Fourth World country. How can I turn down food when so many don’t even know when their next meal might be? How can I be so selfish, so uncaring? It’s been (excuse the pun), eating me alive. I think about this more than I ever thought possible. Every lunch time, I have to decide whether to say yes or no.
This isn’t my first brush with not feeling up to eating. I stress starve–unintentionally stress myself out over whatever it is to the point of which I don’t even think about food. And when I do, when someone says “hey, wanna grab dinner?” I’m not hungry at all. I didn’t plan on bringing that up so woops. Oh well. Now you know!
Mkay I’m just gonna go before I spill all my inner thoughts and secrets! 😉