Tasting the Past: Emotional Distress

Last night when I got home from the gym I went to make dinner. I wasn’t thrilled with anything that was in the house. Eventually I opted for thinly cut pork loin. Usually when I make it- it is super tender and moist. I cook it on the stove and then bake until perfection. I was impatient last night, I was feeling hungry despite having a protein bar after my workout. So I opted for fast and knew it would have the consistency of steak instead of pulled pork. All I did was put it in a nonstick pan with seasoning and added some bbq sauce when it was done. As it cooked it smelled great. I made up some onions and mushrooms and a side of beans. I also had some apple sauce with it. It was supposed to be a really good dinner.


Once it was done I sat down to eat it. The first bite was amazing. The second was pretty good. The third it started to get dicey. Next thing I knew I was sharing the pork with Koda. It’s not that it tasted bad because it wasn’t. The problem was it brought back a lot of memories that I had buried for so long. Emotions started bubbling up. All because the texture and the taste of the pork matched the pork chop dinners that I had when I was a kid-despite using a totally different recipe. We had pork chops a lot. More than I care to remember. It got to the point where I would refuse to eat it and ended up only eating the side dishes. My mom wasn’t happy about this but my dad was supportive and just pleased that I was eating my veggies.

This was my first time in over 12 years eating pork in this way. I started to feel angry, upset, physically ill… I felt like a failure, I felt poor. All from the texture and familiar taste of mom’s pork chops. Literally as I fought back the tears as I ate dinner last night I was getting more and more upset. I didn’t want to eat it. I felt as though my past was coming back to haunt me. I began to have memories pop up that I didn’t want to remember. Followed by remembering how I coped when I was a child into teenage years. I ate. I ate a lot, which you would have never known at the time. I was quite skinny. It wasn’t until I got older that I put the weight on.

After dinner I just wanted to be left alone. So I went to my room and iced down my shins and played a game on my phone. I was trying to deal with my emotions and didn’t really know how. Those memories took a perfectly good mood and turned them upside down. After a while, I got up and started to tidy up the kitchen. I found myself wanting to go through some of my old things in my room and just start throwing everything away. Anything that was a reminder of my past I wanted gone. I didn’t though. I decided to wait until this weekend because I may feel differently. I didn’t want to act totally irrational. After all… I was fine until I ate the pork.

It wasn’t too long after I was done with the kitchen that I decided to turn in for the night. I opened my window and listened to the crickets and frogs chirping. I felt the cool breeze enter my room, it was nice. But then the emotions in the pit of my stomach start to come up. I felt something warm and wet fall down my face. I laid there and couldn’t believe it. Crying? Over what? Next thing I knew I was thinking that 7-11 was open 24 hours and I could go get some chili nachos and a Slurpee, then I thought about a double whopper and chicken nuggets. Next thing I knew I wanted Ding Dong’s, Cheetos, Dorito’s, Oreo cookies, and donuts. Then I remembered a commercial I saw for Oreo donuts…even better. I was cursing Arby’s for closing so early because I love their sandwiches. Even though I only have one more week to go of my experiment of cutting out red meat. Last night I didn’t care. I wanted it all. I wasn’t interested in my fruits n berries. I wanted “real” food that “everyone” else can eat. I wanted something that tasted good. And the more I realized I didn’t have what I wanted the angrier I was getting. The interesting thing about this is you won’t find those types of foods in my kitchen. I know myself and know that I will want to eat an entire bag or box so it’s safer not being around.

Finally, I slowly began to come to my senses as I was debating on whether or not I was really going to go on a tour of various fast food places. I remembered how hard I have been working on getting healthier and stronger. I remembered my totally bad ass workout with Christine earlier in the day. I remembered how I have been able to amp up my workouts day by day and then… Then I realized I keep a food log for her to help keep me accountable and tweak things so everything is running at optimum levels… Did I really want to show her an all-out binge? Did I really want to know how many calories I was putting into my body? It’s bad enough that I would know about it- but to share something like that with her… I ended up walking laps in the house and then eventually fell asleep. I was so mad that I don’t have my punching bag anymore. I would have loved to go all out with that thing.

When I awoke this morning I was feeling a little better. I was pleased that I didn’t cave and head out into the darkness to feed my emotions. That wouldn’t have solved anything. It would have made me feel worse, both physically and mentally.

I won last night’s battle. But clearly the war still hasn’t been won. As I sit her typing this- the phantom smell of the pork permeates my nose. My throat feels like it’s choking up from the anticipation of the familiar texture. My stomach is churning. I didn’t bring the leftovers with me today for lunch. I don’t want them. I will give them away. I don’t like feeling like I did as I was growing up. I am stronger now. But the texture, smell, and flavor of the pork chop is testing my mental strength. I can’t let my past pull me back in. I must continue to move on and let it all go.

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