January 10th, 2010
It is Sunday, and I haven’t been able to get out of bed all weekend…well, that’s not true. I have gotten out of bed…but only on my numerous trips to the fridge downstairs. It’s at times like this that I regret removing the fridge in my bedroom, or even the children’s living room upstairs. At least, that would have saved me all the trips.
All weekend, I have been in bed…eating. All the foods I have banished from my life in the last few weeks, have become my bedside companion. Because that has been the only thing to numb the pain I feel inside.
At first, I didn’t understand why I was taking Uzoamaka’s death so badly. We weren’t that close, and it’s not as if she has left behind a young family. Even JJ couldn’t understand my devastation. He had been sad for me, when I broke the news to him on Thursday, and also when I got back from Oby’s house on Friday, but by yesterday, he had had enough of my behavior.
“Isn’t this the same Uzoamaka you used to complain about? The one who even fat shamed you just a few weeks ago?” he had exclaimed, as I lay in bed, with the curtains drawn.
“You don’t understand…” I replied weakly.
As JJ looked around at the half empty ice-cream bucket beside my bed, and the biscuit and candy wraps that littered my night stand, I could tell he was exasperated. But thank God, he decided to just leave me be…and so I had continued to wallow.
You see, my grief about Uzoamaka’s death is only a small fraction of why I feel so broken. As I thought about her own unachieved dreams, I wondered about my own. What would happen if I were to die today? What have I really achieved? Yes, I have a wonderful family I am eternally grateful for, but outside of that, what have I really achieved? Is a children’s supplies/diapers business really enough? And even this luxury packages business Ezioma is trying to drag me into…is that really enough? Have I left any lasting footprints in the sand of time? I don’t think so…and, at the age of 37, I find that rather depressing.
And I have also been grieving over the lost years my Dad and I had. Yes, we have reconciled, and everything is great…but my heart breaks over the 20 plus years we could have had together. I went through all that time, believing my Dad hated me, that he thought I was revolting and disgusting. But yet, he was there longing for me…and loving me. All those years I went without having a father-figure in my life…all those years when I longed to have a parent to talk to…he was right there…but we were separated by pride and misunderstanding.
And so, I am effectively mourning. Mourning Uzoamaka, mourning my own lack of accomplishment, mourning the lost years with my Dad…mourning.
It was this afternoon, lying in my bed, munching on leftover Christmas cake and watching a Friends marathon on TV, that I took a look at myself, and realized what kind of trouble I will be in, whenever I decide to get on that scale. Tomorrow will be a full month since my last weigh-in, when I saw that lovely 87.5 number. After eating like a crazy person in the village, not to mention this weekend, I know I will be greeted with a higher number…for sure! In an ideal world, it wouldn’t be more than +5kg. But in reality, I know that this number will be much much higher!
But even that is not enough motivation for me to put down the cake and ice cream. I know I’m not doing myself any favours, but the truth is that nothing else can fill the hole I have inside. No fruit smoothie in this world, no rice cakes, no salads, can help with this grief I am feeling now.
Right now, lying in bed, only sugar can be my companion. Only sugar can comfort me.
I definitely won’t be weighing myself tomorrow. Psychologically, I’m not there yet. And psychologically, I’m not ready to go without my sugar either.
I need this time. I need to heal. And at a time like this, only my longtime friend, sugar, will do.
Nothing else!
Photo Credit
- http://thefoodpornographer.com
Catch up on Ihunna’s story here:
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 1: Grubbido
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 2: Fragile
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 3: Defiant
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 4: Progress
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 5: The Gym
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 6: Killjoy
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 7: Pain
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 8: Frenemies
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 9: Exhilarated
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 10: Popcorn
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 11: Free-fall
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 12: Sunday Morning
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 13: Mission Reactivated
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 14: New Things
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 15: Bad Business
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 16: Luxury Items
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 17: The Solution
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 18: Magic Formula
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 19: Date Night
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 20: Quinoa
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 21: Perfect Fit
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 22: Keeping In Touch
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 23: Delete
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 24: Philosophical
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 25: Keep it Moving
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 26: My Co-Wife
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 27: Old Jeans & Old Friends
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 28: Prawn Stir Fry
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 29: Facebook Tagging
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 30: Detox Part 2
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 31: Abs & Crunches
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 32: Making Notes
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 33: Christmas Party
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 34: Ashiedu
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 35: Willpower
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 36: Packing…and TV
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 37: Last Minute
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 38: Body Image
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 39: Christmas Trip
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 40: Christmas in the Village
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 41: Daddy’s Girl
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 42: 2010
- Confessions of a Fat Girl 43: Uzoamaka
Ihunna, this up here is tragi-comedy’. Hope ‘your dearest sugar friend’ will allow you stage a fierce come-back soon.