I ate French toast today. I have not eaten French toast in 20 years. I know this because I can remember the day I last ate it.
The friends who are housing me during my mandatory evacuation from a flood zone, have been feeding me. At first I panicked without my safe foods and the lack of opportunity to purge or exercise. Eventually, I had a few glasses of wine and gave in. It was like a 3 day holiday from ED.
On day one, they made scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast. My mind churned….I don’t eat egg yolks. I don’t eat bread. I don’t eat butter on my bread or jam or nutella. I had one slice of dry toast and the eggs.
On day two, my friends made scrambled eggs and pancakes. I ate the scrambled eggs but had 2 pieces of toast instead of pancakes and syrup. I picked up a knife and spread Becel and raspberry jam on my toast. I can’t remember when I last tasted jam. I used to love it when I was a child. My favourite kind was apricot jam and it was home made by a lady who lived in the Eastern Highlands. My parents stockpiled it whenever we were there. Sometimes I dream about that jam.
On the third day, my friends made French toast and smoothies. As I have no portion control, I either eat everything or nothing. So I ate everything and smothered it in light syrup. I left the table in a carb coma and with a belly ache.
I went to yoga this afternoon and relayed my crazy, non-ED breakfast too my friend.
“Who eats French toast?!” I yelled.
“Normal people,” she replied
I thought about that for a while.
“I had 5 pieces,” I confessed.
“And you enjoyed them, didn’t you?” she replied. “They were good, weren’t they?”
I nodded surreptitiously, ashamed in case the ED police saw me admit enjoying food. I went to hot yoga and tried to burn it off.
Later when I went home to B&P dinner, I thought about it some more. Breakfast had been fun. My “normal” friends and I had cooked together, laughed, eaten, made smoothies, played with the baby, joked and eaten some more. It was the most fun I had had at breakfast time in a long time. I was with people I loved, who were taking such good care of me and they loved me regardless of ED and its many crazy manifestations.
Breakfast to me is about control and denial. I toss back vegan protein powder mixed with quinoa milk. I “allow” myself a few measly calories, some much needed protein and I deny myself anything I would really like. Breakfast sets the tone for the day.
As much fun as French toast was, I don’t know that I can repeat that too soon. But, maybe it won’t be 20 years until the next time I do.