Manorexia.... or guiltus maximus
I was told that I suffer from manorexia.
"Manorexia? ha ha ha... i think not."
"No really, look at you. You've halved in size and I don't think its normal"
"Halved? Really?" I look at my reflection in the window, pleased "I don't see it, to be honest"
"There, that's already a sign"
"What do you mean?"
"You see, you still think you're overweight. You're psyche won't let you stop starving yourself till you think you're thin. And you'll never see yourself like that."
"Hmph... well, I suppose I have lost a few pounds. Its all the biking really."
I didn't think about it too much again. So I may be manorexic. Who cares? I still have 3 chins and gradschool fat. Plus I like my double cheeseburger every now and then. And I had one just.... err.... umm... I don't know, sometime back.
Last night, we were at the pub and I was growing sicker and sicker by the minute. The greasy chips, the smell of the beer and the cheese in front of me was poking at my stomach. At some point, I excused myself and ran to the bus to head home.
I wasn't sick anymore but I felt drained of all energy. I threw myself on the couch but I could barely stay awake for a few minutes. I climbed into bed, ready to sleep. I shut my eyes and slipped into a peaceful dream, laying motionless for a while.
Then suddenly I felt the sharp pain shoot through me. It started somewhere around my belly button and it was so bad that I could not breathe.
As I grabbed my stomach, I felt it move. It was now growing, the pain, moving steadily out from the first spot. Strangely though, it felt like it was wriggling. It was unbearable. I don't have a very high threshold for pain and it was like death itself. Kidney stone, I thought? Seems too big to be a little stone.
But then it broke free, whatever it was and was moving upwards.... higher up to my chest. The pain! Oh! The pain! Then it struggled and wriggled some more. Then i felt sharp, very sharp claws and teeth tearing my chest open from the inside. A minute later, it had ripped through my chest and we were face to face. It was the sausage, mash and fries from earlier that evening.
It led out a high pitch scream and looked at me menacingly. then suddenly it jumped out and was gone, leaving a trail of mash and gravy from the open hole in my chest, and disappeared under the bed... scuttling along on its little feet...
"Manorexia? ha ha ha... i think not."
"No really, look at you. You've halved in size and I don't think its normal"
"Halved? Really?" I look at my reflection in the window, pleased "I don't see it, to be honest"
"There, that's already a sign"
"What do you mean?"
"You see, you still think you're overweight. You're psyche won't let you stop starving yourself till you think you're thin. And you'll never see yourself like that."
"Hmph... well, I suppose I have lost a few pounds. Its all the biking really."
I didn't think about it too much again. So I may be manorexic. Who cares? I still have 3 chins and gradschool fat. Plus I like my double cheeseburger every now and then. And I had one just.... err.... umm... I don't know, sometime back.
Last night, we were at the pub and I was growing sicker and sicker by the minute. The greasy chips, the smell of the beer and the cheese in front of me was poking at my stomach. At some point, I excused myself and ran to the bus to head home.
I wasn't sick anymore but I felt drained of all energy. I threw myself on the couch but I could barely stay awake for a few minutes. I climbed into bed, ready to sleep. I shut my eyes and slipped into a peaceful dream, laying motionless for a while.
Then suddenly I felt the sharp pain shoot through me. It started somewhere around my belly button and it was so bad that I could not breathe.
As I grabbed my stomach, I felt it move. It was now growing, the pain, moving steadily out from the first spot. Strangely though, it felt like it was wriggling. It was unbearable. I don't have a very high threshold for pain and it was like death itself. Kidney stone, I thought? Seems too big to be a little stone.
But then it broke free, whatever it was and was moving upwards.... higher up to my chest. The pain! Oh! The pain! Then it struggled and wriggled some more. Then i felt sharp, very sharp claws and teeth tearing my chest open from the inside. A minute later, it had ripped through my chest and we were face to face. It was the sausage, mash and fries from earlier that evening.
It led out a high pitch scream and looked at me menacingly. then suddenly it jumped out and was gone, leaving a trail of mash and gravy from the open hole in my chest, and disappeared under the bed... scuttling along on its little feet...
Suddenly, the pain was gone. I opened my eyes. There was no wound. No sausage or mash either. Or gravy. I didn't dare look under the bed.
It is entirely possible that we have developed an unhealthy relation with food... hmm
It is entirely possible that we have developed an unhealthy relation with food... hmm
posted by khal at 6:37 am
5 Comments:
If you're eating sausage mash and fries you are not manorexic. maybe mulemic (can't think of a better one...)
and, I don't think you can blame grad school for the fat, unless they all accumulated in the first 6 months.
The sausage and mash was yummy but I felt pretty awful about eating it all day long. Hence the nightmares.
May, I have photographic evidence of the gradual deposition of Burger King in my system (not showing).
Yeah - you might have a case against the King. If you had only thought to write a book about your experience, you could have been rich!
K - embrace it, it's inevitable that you'll eat bangers and mash several more times during your stay in the UK. You'll learn to love it. You'll plan for it or repent afterwards, an extra 15mins bikeride for every divine mouthful of onion gravy or leek and thyme sausage.... mmmmmm.......
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