Dinner was a fiasco of unparalleled proportions. I got back from ballet, worked out for 2 hours then took a nap face down on my yoga mat and woke up with waffle face. I ate cherry tomatoes with a tablespoon of peanut butter then put on my size 25 skinny jeans to remind me not to binge at dinner.
I met my boyfriend’s sisters at the restaurant along with sister #2s boyfriend who can out-eat anyone. The menu was a minefield of fat bombs. Pizza, creamy pastas, deep-fried appetizers and desserts. I opted out of a glass of wine and had water with lemon to control the binger in me that comes out after a few drinks. I was so hungry that all those calories looked amazing. I could practically taste the pizza just reading the ingredients and had to force myself back to the salad section to see what might do the least amount of damage. I chose a Greek salad without dressing even though I’d been trying to have a dairy free day. I prayed the amount of feta would be negligible.
As I fought a battle between my hunger demons and my will power the others were salivating over all their options and making poor choices. Sister #1 orders pizza. Sister #2 orders a pizza-pasta combo that comes with a salad which she refuses because it would be “too much food”. Her boyfriend orders beer, chicken wings, a caesar salad, steak and potatoes. As we wait for our order sister #2 begins to regale me with tales of their lifestyle change in regards to food. I’m flabbergasted. What change? The waitress brings a basket of garlic bread. Sister #2 indulges instantly. White bread drowning in butter. She says tonight is “cheat night”. I don’t understand it myself because even though I’m starving that bread resembles the devil reincarnated.
Sister #1 is making a valiant effort to abstain which I applaud as she has actually lost weight. When her pizza arrives she eats 3 slices and she refuses any dessert. I admire her effort. Sister #2 and her boyfriend plow through their mountains of food dripping in cream and oil then she reaches over and starts eating off my plate dipping each piece of cucumber in sour cream. I’m disgusted and fascinated at the same time. It is sort of like looking at a train wreck – you know you shouldn’t stare but you can’t help it! I am judging her lack of control even though I could binge at the drop of a hat (and I carry my own hat).
I work my way through the Greek salad until my boyfriend shows up, throws back a few slices of pizza nonchalantly and then asks if I want to share a dessert. I’m in love with my boyfriend, I’m happy and I want to eat dessert with him but I say that I would only have a small bite so he (thankfully) decides against it. We don’t need the calories to be honest. We go home for the night and my stomach is grumbling, hungry for something else so I go to bed instead. I wake up still hungry. I walk to work for an hour. I drink half a matcha latte and throw the rest away. I get to ballet and look in the mirror. I might as well have eaten 10 pizzas last night for what is standing there staring back at me. I die a little bit inside and try to go on with my day.