And I say to you brothers and sisters that no where, Ah Said, No Where, in the earth, the heavens, or your soggy little mind has the idea of ‘just a bite’ ever existed.
Todays lesson in humility is brought to you by the letter B.
B is for Bread – which I baked yesterday.
B is for Bite – which I promised myself was all I would have.
B is for Bloated – which is how I feel. Just like a pregnant whale on a July beach.
B is for Bathroom – which, well, you know the rest.
If you’ve been following this blog, you know that I’ve been on this lifestyle journey for a very long time now. Slowly learning about what does and doesn’t nourish my body and about how to be as respectful and gracious to myself as I try to be to others.
It still amazes me though how much of a mind*F* I can twist myself into at times. Yesterday I was baking for the boy’s dinner and I wanted some. Not bad food – just not a good choice. I’m still only three weeks out from bariatric surgery. I want to eat carbs/bread? Really?
This is probably not the nourishing food my body needs to heal.
My brain is sneaky though, it kept telling me that if I didn’t go over my two-ounce limit I could get away with it. Just a bite, it whispered. All the while waving Lucifer’s yeast laden offspring in front of my quivering nose. So I thought I would be smart. I made bread for the boys as well as 4 small cobs, each less than an ounce… me-sized.
You know that dough rises, right? Well, let me tell you, as soon as I decided to make buns suitable for my limits. The bread started rising. The taste and smell of it clawed through my forebrain and into those instinct driven centres I don’t like to think about, and can seldom control. Within 3 hours the bread was baked and my four babies had been buttered and eaten. Four one-ounce breadlings were dropped into a system that is still healing from major surgery and hasn’t had real food in almost six months, the result of these little yeast bombs was predictable, diarrhoea, cramps, nausea… dumping syndrome.
My poor lizard brain doesn’t understand ‘just a bite.’ It recognizes full or empty, wants or doesn’t want. I just can’t do this to myself any more. I need to find a way past this brain game and realize what it truly is. It will never be just a bite, it always means more, needs more.
Not sure how to do this. Have you had any success taming the irrational hungries?
For now, no more baking!