So, if you are a more long-term visitor to this blog or friend, you may (?? probably not, but maybe!) know that today marks three years since my diagnosis with anorexia nervosa. It would’ve been perfectly cliche if my first meal after the diagnosis was mac and cheese. It was a pb+j unfortunately. But alas, here’s to three hard years and some stories about my favorite food!:
Mac and cheese was a main staple in my diet from ages five through eight. Sure, if I wanted to be fancy, I might cut up some chicken dinos and throw them into the mix (like literally into the bowl of pasta). But for the most part, it was mac and cheese.
My parents eventually called for an intervention: no more mac and cheese for lunch at school. Instead, that delicious, pink thermos full of cheesy, creamy, heaven was replaced with pita chips and hummus, or plain pasta, or tofu. If I wanted to eat mac and cheese, I had to ask for permission first– which I did, often, and sheepishly.
Of course, as I got older and began to diversify my palate– yes, I did eat sushi and Indian food as a nine year old xx– the restrictions on mac and cheese lessened because it wasn’t really a problem anymore. I always enjoy my Dida’s homemade mac and cheese (I’ve requested it for my past two birthdays). In freshman year, mac and cheese was frequently on the dinner menu at sleepovers. No problems there.
However, towards the end of my freshman year, mac and cheese emerged on my “do not eat” list thanks to its caloric value and the fact that I always had considered it an “indulgence.” I remember vividly lining up to the buffet style dinner at my friend’s house at the start of summer in 2017. The menu: salad, breaded chicken, and mac and cheese. The really good, homemade kind too. With breadcrumbs on the top. I skipped it, and ate my piece of chicken and salad all while knowing it was still too much. And yes, I know that remembering the specifics of this meal is sort of weird. I remember lots of meals like this.
A little over three years later, and my new revelations about mac and cheese seem to perfectly encapsulate my new revelations about my recovery— something I usually try to share in my annual commemoration posts.
As some of you know, I struggle with mild depression, and my symptoms are often tied strongly to my eating patterns (read “Food, and being sad” for any clarification). Although I consider myself to be well into the process of recovery– I do sort of hate that it needs to be quantified at all– it does not take much for me to be catapulted back into old patterns of restriction. And yet, even in my darkest moments when food seems pointless, or when most things seem pointless, I am always willing to eat mac and cheese. Even more so, sometimes I actively seek out mac and cheese because I know it will make me feel better. I am not trying to minimize illnesses like depression or anorexia, and say that all it takes is a favorite childhood food to be cured. That even isn’t a little bit of what it takes, aside from the fact that in some cases “cured” isn’t really an option. But I do think food can be healing, and I do know that mac and cheese is healing for me. I am happy that food can now be a part of the solution rather than always a part of the problem.
This past year– since July 2019– has brought many changes my way. And if you know me well, you know that I strongly dislike change (reference: I refused to change the childhood furniture in my bedroom until eleventh grade). I know it sounds stupid and cheesy (no pun intended hehe) to say I’ve grown a lot and learned a lot about myself, but both of those things are true. It’s been good and bad. I confronted– and am still grappling with– the scary reality that my ED is definitely not the last of the big shifts my life and identity are going to undertake. I’m reminded that my ED is not the only place where I fall short of my insatiable idea of “perfection.” I’ve made lots of mistakes, and hurt people, and felt uncomfortable with parts of myself, and skipped meals, and many times wished I could somehow just escape my reality and live in a sadness-proof cocoon. These hard realizations have, on occasion, led to long episodes of low mood and food restriction. But as I say every year, I am grateful for everything, and grateful for everyone who has shown me even an ounce of care or love this year. I am slowly learning to accept change, and accept that I won’t always be in control, and the best teachers and guides in this journey are always people who care about me and push me to be better. I am ready for another year of challenges, and of pushing myself to ask for help when I need it. And I’ll of course keep a surplus of mac and cheese around just in case.
Love, Mira
P.S. If you are a SUPER dedicated reader, I’ve decided to upload my culminating high school english paper (called a Senior Paper) for anyone interested in reading any or all of it. It is long. My english class this past semester was about dystopian literature, so there is a bit of that in the paper. And I did have to include a long analytical piece to satisfy my requirement, but I think it is actually kind of interesting!! I feel like this paper really expresses who I am and explains my ED in a new way and I am (eek) quite proud of it. Feel free to take a look if you are bored or interested.
P.P.S. Reminder that if you have the means, please donate to any of the organizations listed on my Donate page. Thanks!
My Fast 