If my stomach gets too empty, it starts eating at itself.
I feel it, rumbling and roiling like the black smoke snake on Lost, searching in vain for something to eat and ultimately deciding to turn on itself. It’s not really fun when it gets to that stage. And the thing is, I feel like I am a pretty self-aware person. It’s not like I’m off in la-dee-da land, forgetting to feed myself because I’m so busy working on my mad scientist projects. No, I notice things like hunger. And numb gums when I run. And my heart, when it beats two beats right on top of each other, forcing air out of my lungs involuntarily, regardless of whether I’m standing in line at the DMV or not.
It’s just that my hunger mechanism never gives me enough warning. I feel the hunger, I instantly head toward the kitchen and by the time I have the fridge open, it’s too late. The feeding-on-itself frenzy has begun. And what’s so frustrating about it is that by the time it gets to that point there is no going back. I can throw some food down the hatch, but it doesn’t appease the monster. Food that would have been perfectly acceptable ten minutes earlier has now just been added to the volcano that is my stomach spewing out hot lava and taking everything down with it; even perfectly good food.
If I can stay a step ahead of it and eat BEFORE I get hungry, all is well. But that just doesn’t seem like the right order in which to operate.
If my life gets too full, it starts eating at itself.
I feel it, thrashing and freewheeling like the rickety old Texas Giant, searching in vain for peace and deep breaths and ultimately deciding to turn on itself. It’s not really fun when it gets to that stage. But we plow ahead valiantly, knowing that next month will bring at least a small measure of quiet. And we take what we can get around here. Small measures accepted. I only hope I don’t self-destruct completely before being able to enjoy it.
I want to enjoy camping with the family, eating meals outside, not driving on the freeway four or five times a day, letting kids stay up late and sleep in later, reading good books, seeing my husband more than twice a week and going out for ice cream daily. Yes, I said daily.
I wonder what’s wrong with my stomach.