Is there privilege in sinking?
Praise God the last two days have not been nearly has hard as Sunday was for me! It's not that they have been way easier but I haven't heard of anyone else dying (which is always good). So I've been better able to adjust to knowing that one of my colleagues is in a really deep grief. I've emailed back and forth with him a few times now and I know that he's surviving or at least he's breathing. In the last email he was even joking about my hair, saying that it reminds him of the blue twilight sky that changes and becomes blue again. (I have blue hair right now.) I had never even compared my hair to the sky before and I think it's hilarious that in the state he is in right now that's what he is remembering about me and making him have hope in the dawn of tomorrow.
Part of me realizes that yesterday and today I kept myself busy for 12-13 hours straight, as in out of the house for that entire time. And I was working, not really looking after myself. Which as one of my friends pointed out to me tonight includes the eating element of self-care. Although if I hadn't mentioned that what I was eating at Bread Garden was basically the only real meal/food that I'd had today, then he wouldn't have known any different. And to be honest he doesn't really know enough of what I've been dealing with these past 6 months to understand fully what it means for me to be eating out with people, when they aren't eating food and only having coffee. Normally if I eat when I'm out it's because I need to fit in with those that I'm with. And then he commented on the fact that I didn't finish my dinner. Fuck. Give me a fuckin' break! My other friend who was there reads this site and has a good idea of what I've been dealing with, and I think pretty much realized that I was eating a lot to be eating anything off my plate and that I had a salad with my sandwich for some variety even though I wouldn't be able to finish either of them. She knows that acting like the "Protein Police" is fun at times but not really worth while, he obviously is clueless! He always has been though.
Since eating my stomach has felt like it's tied in a knot and I just feel gross. It sucks.
And I feel totally guilty. Today I was at the World Urban Forum with the UN and I heard stories of women and refugees all over the World living in poverty not having access to food let alone clean drinking water. And here I am living in the developed world with food in my kitchen, clean tape water (not to mention bottled water) and the ability to chose where I buy my food and who prepares it. But what do I do? I get the majority of my nutrition from pills and supplements. And when I do eat I tend to waste food and I certainly don't enjoy it (or I do for a short moment and then I don't). Seriously, how fucked up is this situation that I've found myself in? There are people in Africa who receive food aid from the UN and have had their rations cutback to 1000 calories (or less in some cases) per day. I won't even mention what my average intake is per day. I live with privilege and power, yet it seems like I don't even acknowledge it fully because of my problem with food. Or maybe this is a sign of my privilege, that I am able to admit to having a problem with food in a developed country and have the support and resources to work towards recovering from it?
Part of me realizes that yesterday and today I kept myself busy for 12-13 hours straight, as in out of the house for that entire time. And I was working, not really looking after myself. Which as one of my friends pointed out to me tonight includes the eating element of self-care. Although if I hadn't mentioned that what I was eating at Bread Garden was basically the only real meal/food that I'd had today, then he wouldn't have known any different. And to be honest he doesn't really know enough of what I've been dealing with these past 6 months to understand fully what it means for me to be eating out with people, when they aren't eating food and only having coffee. Normally if I eat when I'm out it's because I need to fit in with those that I'm with. And then he commented on the fact that I didn't finish my dinner. Fuck. Give me a fuckin' break! My other friend who was there reads this site and has a good idea of what I've been dealing with, and I think pretty much realized that I was eating a lot to be eating anything off my plate and that I had a salad with my sandwich for some variety even though I wouldn't be able to finish either of them. She knows that acting like the "Protein Police" is fun at times but not really worth while, he obviously is clueless! He always has been though.
Since eating my stomach has felt like it's tied in a knot and I just feel gross. It sucks.
And I feel totally guilty. Today I was at the World Urban Forum with the UN and I heard stories of women and refugees all over the World living in poverty not having access to food let alone clean drinking water. And here I am living in the developed world with food in my kitchen, clean tape water (not to mention bottled water) and the ability to chose where I buy my food and who prepares it. But what do I do? I get the majority of my nutrition from pills and supplements. And when I do eat I tend to waste food and I certainly don't enjoy it (or I do for a short moment and then I don't). Seriously, how fucked up is this situation that I've found myself in? There are people in Africa who receive food aid from the UN and have had their rations cutback to 1000 calories (or less in some cases) per day. I won't even mention what my average intake is per day. I live with privilege and power, yet it seems like I don't even acknowledge it fully because of my problem with food. Or maybe this is a sign of my privilege, that I am able to admit to having a problem with food in a developed country and have the support and resources to work towards recovering from it?
posted by Womyn in Troubled Waters at 10:25 PM
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