Food

Some people are stress eaters, I'm a stress starver. Anytime something is going on in my life from a test to the death of my husband I just can't stomach food. I get physically nauseous and if it's really bad, like these past few weeks, food will actually make me throw up. Just the thought of food makes me sick now. I have to force myself to eat a little bit each day. Some days are better than others, some foods I still actually eat a lot of (pasta mainly and by "a lot" I mean almost an entire serving).

If you knew me at all before my husband's death then you know I was an eater. Everything in sight that was edible I would eat all of if not at least try once. I have a fast metabolism and I always have. When my husband died I didn't eat for almost three days. You have to eat to live, but I hate eating. Food has become my enemy, a necessary evil.

In the first week of my husbands death I dropped almost 10 pounds, by the second week I had lost another 4. At 6ft tall I went from being a healthy 167 to 153. Now it's not that I'm unhealthy at this weight, it's just the way I lost it and how quickly that is the problem. I realized when I almost passed out going up my stairs that if I wanted to stay out of a hospital I would have to make myself eat. Which I do, mostly. I've at least stopped losing weight for now.

The other thing about food is that I used to love to cook. I loved cooking for my husband. I loved when he liked what I made and would eat everything in the pan. I loved that even when it wasn't the best he would just put hot sauce on it and call it good (while dropping a hint or two that it wasn't the best). I loved that he bragged about me, even if I'm not the best in the world, I was the best in his.