Angst In My Pants

I constantly feel anxious. Luckily, it is not always severe. That doesn’t make it less frustrating though. If anything, it is worse to suffer from continuous mild anxiety (CMA) because one feels like a real phony.

Success: A Story

Regardless of what some might say, I have some progress in my life and have pictures and a menu to prove it. There was a time when I would only eat very plain food and would not allow one type of food to touch another type when on my plate (for example, cauliflower could not touch the brussel sprouts). There was no way boiled potatoes could touch the stewing beef as the liquid from the beef would colour the potatoes, and potentially make them soggy. Two things had to happen – the beef had to go on a separate plate and bits of onion and most of the liquid from the beef had to be removed. One would imagine that this made my food life pretty bland and depressing, but these feelings were not felt – instead a feeling of comfort and safety.

I suppose the first change came when after booking a flight to Italy for the first time. I thought to myself, “I cannot go to Italy with my diet,” so I tried eating pasta. Within weeks I was an addict, though eating the pre-made jars of sauce.

Then, when living in Germany, I tried strawberries – this led on to blueberries, green beans, wholemeal bread, sweetcorn, peppers, even carrots. I had never been so healthy (though I lost lots of weight, and was always feeling hungry).

It is only fair that I admit that whilst I was trying new food, I was often just eating the same ‘new’ dish over and again – a habit that is hard to kick.

Now I cook everything from scratch, and am starting to try new recipes even. Before, going to restaurants was difficult, to say the least. Now I can eat in most places.

The question that has always entered my mind throughout all of this is the extent to which these issues with food are expressions of altogether different issues. Someone once raised the question to me, “What if you tried the food and liked it?” It was then suggested that my fear of food is a symptom of my fear of success, or of being happy. At the time this seemed true to me. However, if this is true, how come the fears of living life do not disappear alongside the fears of food? That is very puzzling, and I will probably never have an answer. Nonetheless, one should be content with the new variety of food in one’s life.

(Since writing this, I now eat bruschetta, corn on the cob, and flapjacks).