“So, where you would like to go for lunch?”
NO! NO! NO! I planned an early business meeting so I could scoot out of there before this issue came up. Crap! The inevitable business meeting stressor!
These business meetings were getting on my damned nerves. Make a decision already and let's get moving. If you're so impressed with my talents and want to agree to everything I’m asking for, sign the damned contract already!
Three times before this I was able to wiggle my way out of the “food” part of the meeting with this same person, but this time I had no “excuse #4” because apparently someone wanted to have an early lunch..
And this was not a good day, because some days I can wing it and coast under the radar and eat something really safe like salad or steamed vegetables and chew really slowly, and shove things around my plate and “people in the know” think I’m doing well, but that’s getting harder and harder.
“Safeplace! Safeplace!” Screams my brain. Thank you brain for failing me yet again.
“Any where you'd like” GROAN!
“Ok, we'll go to (insert name of upscale restaurant in the old part of town, that I know for a fact serves portions that are way, way, way too fucking big!)
“Sure” GODAMMIT!
“THINK, THINK, THIINNNNK!” yells my brain. “Oh shut up! You let me down.”
“Two?” Little Miss Chipper Hostess asks.
“Yes, please.”
Huge ass menus, in front of us... GROAN (again)
“Hello, my name is (insert appropriate equally chipper waiter name here), what can I get you to drink?'
“Unsweetened iced-tea, please.”
“I'll have a (whatever the fuck was said because my brain was working on crisis mode)”
“OK” says my oh-so-fucking-useless-this-time-brain. “Since we know these business meetings are going to occur at least twice more before the “negotiating” is finally finished, let's just say it:”
“I have an eating disorder” I say, looking at my menu, scanning the crap on it and realizing, there's not a damn thing on it I feel safe eating.
“Eating disorder?” Eyebrows go up, head cocks; glances up above menu.
“Uh-huh”.
“oookaayy.” “Eating disorder? Like what? Like you don't eat meat?”
“No; eating disorder like, I don't LIKE food.”
“Oh.” “You must like something.”
“Well, actually, there's not a lot of food I like.”
“Lot's of people don't like lots of things, what don't you like? Like meat? Broccoli? Fish?”
GROAN (Yet again...)
“More like meat, bread, pasta, fruit, fish only sometimes, chicken depends on the day, broccoli, eggs, cheese, milk, I used to eat lettuce but not much any more, corn, ham, I used to eat a lot of salmon but less and less, crackers ...you get the idea?”
Blank stare…
I shrug my shoulders and give the universal “whatcha gonna do” gesture.
“There has to be something you eat!”
“On a good day, I can eat Prosciutto, but only from Costco; or almonds, also only from Costco and they have to be the ones I call naked almonds, and sometimes maybe I’ll eat green olives stuffed with anchovies but they can only be Goya brand and I used to eat a lot of avocado, but not so much any more.”
(The “naked almonds” illicit a rather large grin.)
“And on a bad day?”
“Coffee”
And I gloss over the fact that a “bad day” for everyone else is actually a “good day” for me and I try not to get too much into the subject because sometimes talking about it makes the anxiety of eating even worse and SHIT! I still haven’t figured out what to do while I sit across from someone who seems rather interested and wants to genuinely know what they can do to make this go as easily as possible.
“How about if I order something that you might like, and I’ll ask for another plate, and you can take whatever you feel comfortable with.”
I almost cried. I had only shared that with one other person and here was someone else willing to be understanding and work around a situation that made me really uncomfortable.
Situations involving food are so stressful because even “sharing” a plate with someone stresses me out. I don’t feel comfortable doing that with anyone other than a really close friend of mine and we don’t even see each other anymore.
When I get invited out somewhere, I know there’s always going to be food involved or the mention of food or someone who knows my issue will “discreetly” glance at my plate or comment on how well I’m eating (grates my fucking nerves because you’d think I had just graduated from bottle to sippy cup)
It’s exhausting and stressful and needs to get off my fucking back.
Eventually, I stated that we had to get off the subject because it was making me feel ill and food was brought and I did the appropriate picking a slice of avocado and a shrimp and chewed really slowly, and made it look like I gave a rat's furry, pink,ass about eating on this "good day".
Today's a "good day" for me. I'm on coffee cup #5
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