I used to love food. I loved the good old fashioned casseroles, or a thick juicy steak, or better yet...PIZZA!!! I wasn't the kind of person who could sit in their room and eat a whole box of Oreo's though. However, I have been known to eat a whole thing of cookie dough. Food was pretty simple for me growing up. If it tasted good, I ate it.
Then, when I would hit really tough times in my life....food became a friend. It was an drug of sorts. Then, after a rough pregnancy and hysterectomy....no matter what I ate....the fat followed me wherever I went. The health problems followed suit.
Now...I have to be forced fed. Food is not on my mind anymore. In fact, it is so much of an issue that I have to be constantly reminded to eat protein or drink my protein shakes to get what I need to get in. Food no longer interests me. Something happened, the cravings stopped. The weirdest thing that has happened is that I look at food in a different light. I am being forced to be retrained in my thinking...that food is my medicine. Medicine to get better. Not the kind of drug that would numb my feelings.
I am adjusting to my new life. I think this is going to take a lot to get used to.
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