Picture the scene: it’s a primary school trip.
Destination? Doesn’t matter, but for illustrative purposes, let’s say it’s a museum.
After a chaotic coach journey with two almost left-behinds, three instances of travel sickness, and a collection of seatbelt defying, are-we-nearly-there-yetting fidgety little people, the first stop upon arrival is the toilets. Everyone is going to go, whether they like it or not. We’re not having anyone caught short halfway round the exhibits.
A few desperados have needed it since the coach left the school gates. A number of others insist that they don’t need it. Regardless, they have to try. Just squeeze one out. Even if you think you don't need to go.
It’s particularly scary for me to eat when I don’t feel like I need to. This fear is even greater when I feel full…or constipated. This mental battle has been exhausting of late. Surely normal people don’t eat unless they feel like they absolutely need to? Surely it is wrong or bad to eat when I’m not hungry? But, it is part of the treatment plan. It's non-negotiable, just like that five-year old trying to dodge the collective toilet stop. What’s more, I really can’t trust my body right now to properly communicate hunger and satiety…my hormones are a mess. Regularity and routine is the only way of restoring some kind of normality. So, rather than just squeezing one out, it’s often more of a case of just squeezing one in. One being that next breakfast, snack, or lunch on my meal plan.
Yet funnily enough, I would never feel guilty for squeezing a wee out. I often do, usually before bed, because I don’t want my bladder to rudely awaken me at an ungodly hour. Likewise, I guess that’s the point of eating meals, so that we are sustained for hours, rather than minutes.
Even more funnily enough, when the opposite problem occurs — i.e., I feel hungry despite having just eaten — the woman upstairs will try and do anything she possibly can to try and stop me from giving in to those hunger cues. You can't trust your body to be accurate with this, remember, she pipes. So, I’m wrong if I eat when I’m not hungry. But I’m still wrong if I eat when I’m hungry. The woman upstairs is certainly one for her double standards.
But the crux of the matter is this: is that kid who insists he doesn't need to go to the loo any more wrong or right than the one that's been bursting since the coach left the school premises? Should either of them be made to feel wrong? Sure, they could both do with learning to plan and self-regulate a bit more...but then again, so could I.
I do not feel wrong for squeezing a wee out, even when I don’t really need to go. Nor do I feel wrong for relieving myself when I am desperate. And, never do I feel compelled to try and hold on to my wee for as long as humanly possible in order to feel some sense of strength and control. That would be mad, a little bit weird...and excruciating. So why, woman upstairs, why, is eating any different? I am simply meeting a basic human need...just through a different hole. Sorry…here endeth that unsettling thought.
“Yo, that's illogical, I can't have it!”
― Nick Jonas
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