FOOD II

As I briefly wrote on May 28, I have long had a dysfunctional relationship with food. In young childhood (years 3 through 6) I ate very little and appeared quite thin. I did in fact eat, but I was picky with the foods I liked and did not eat very much of any one thing. I remember family meal times were a nightmare because my parents would spend the majority of the time complaining about my poor eating habits (not eating all of the food they prepared). My finicky eating pattern was an extreme offense to them. They took it personally – as a sign of poor parenting or something far worse (at least in the Italian culture – bad cooking. Meal times usually ended with me crying due to my frustration with having to fight with my parents for not wanting to finish the food on my plate, or due to my father hitting me out of his frustration for not having a compliant son. I need to better understand whether my eating behavior was in fact trying to communicate something to my parents - some pain, hurt, or confusion that I could not yet verbalize. The self-restriction of food was the only way to I was able to maintain some sense of calm and equilibrium.

That sense of calm ended when my parents had me placed on appetite stimulants. I remember the anger I felt, as my mother would hand me the pill. I couldn’t bring myself to swallow it. It was too big and made me feel as if I was choking. The pill was often given to me at bedtime, which on its own would put me into a panic, however coupled with the pill factor – the bedtime experience became a pure hell. My parents and sister resorted to wrapping the pill in between soft pieces of bread so that it would be easier for me to swallow. Yet, I still couldn’t find the space in my throat to swallow the pill and bread. They finally resorted to getting the stimulant in liquid form. Although that eased my tension regarding the pill, the sheer “weight” of my troubles was only beginning.


Until the next time,
MBI