Usually, I’m obsessed with food. It’s no secret I enjoy cooking. But it’s the task I enjoy, not eating it. I never had to fight for food. My siblings are older by far and the closest to my age would be my nephews. By the time they started to eat solid food, I was old enough to put my foot down and take part of the whole cooking thing. My mum, coming from a large family, knows how to cook huge amounts of food. It’s cooking for three that really throws her. So, we always had more than enough food. My brother would take some home, my sister would take some for the kids’ lunch the following day. No big deal.
It goes without saying, that I haven’t been hungry. It’s one thing my family got right: eating, and making sure everybody gets their fill. I have mentioned before, that dinner was what held my family together. It’s what we always did best: enjoy our glorious food. Not so much for me, being a very picky eater. That’s something I learned to get rid off, when I moved out. Sometimes I can’t afford the food I’d like to eat. But really, it doesn’t always have to be Lasagna or filet with me. Soup or sprouts are fine, too. And the possibilities of meals are endless.
Just now something had me thinking. I haven’t been thinking about eating in a while and I blame it on my hormones. No, I’m not pregnant. It’s a whole other condition, called hypothyreosis. For information check HERE. I’ve been on medication for awhile now and during our move to the bigger flat, I’ve forgotten to get a new prescreption. I don’t know how that could have happened, because I’m reminded daily by my bag of pills (yes, it’s a bag by now with 5 different meds for high blood-pressure, painkillers in case of migraine, and some more stuff I won’t get started with today) that I have to open twice a day to take one medication or another. It’s a pain, but I learned to deal with it.
What I also had to deal with, when I started treatment, was the hunger. Suddenly, I was hungry again. Before I thought I was always hungry, but I was just never full. THIS hungry was something else altogether. Maybe you don’t understand this, but imagine this:
Your favorite color is blue. Then you are told the sky is blue and when you look up you’re confused. Because that’s not the same as your favorite color. See what I mean?
Now I don’t feel hungry (I don’t like blue) at all, and that is strange. Even though, my partner just left the apartment to hunt down meat – he somehow heard me talking about Lasagna and wants to treat me tonight – I can’t help but feel cross at the thought of food.
Tomorrow, I’ll get the new prescreption.
How did I even notice it after all? I read a post by a fellow blogger who wrote about the suffering of children that do not know how and when they’ll get their next meal. She works as a volunteer for a food bank. Check out the story she shared and read her post Hunger is Not a Game.
Thanks for reading!