I've Never Been Tempted to Lie Before… | How Much Did I Spend Last Week? Oct 17-23, 2022
It's a long 'un…
A little warning that this post contains kind of diet culture-y talk of food and food choices and food guilt and if that is in any way upsetting or triggering or troubling for you, please, feel free to skip this one. Also, check out the caption on this gorgeous post by Sydney for an excellent antidote to all of that thinking.
You guys. (Busy Philipps’ voice) YOU GUYS. This week was a week. I think I’ve mentioned a few times that I’ve been struggling with some postpartum anxiety over the past few weeks and months. It manifests itself as this kind of gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach, a feeling that, to be perfectly honest, is really close to the feeling of hunger. So: I eat.
I eat and I eat, and I feel bad for eating and eating, even though eating is, quite literally, one of the things we need to do to stay alive! And no matter what food you’re eating – as my new book club friend K reminded me this week, more on which later – you are giving your body nourishment in the form of calories and fats and carbohydrates and other stuff. Eating is nothing to feel guilty about!
Still, I felt incredibly guilty. And I wallow in my guilt. I order large, two-course takeaway meals and I eat every single bit and the following day, despite saying to myself I’d make that nice Greek salad I saw on TikTok or do a rice bowl with the leftover rice from yesterday’s takeout, I order another large, two-course takeaway meal. And the cycle continues.
It does occur to me that I could probably address some of this in therapy, if I currently had a therapist. It’s on my list of things to do, but I keep telling myself I can’t afford it (despite putting $300 worth of takeaway on a credit card this week, MAKE IT MAKE SENSE), so I don’t.
Anyway, this is my week. If you are in any way tempted to send me healthy recipe ideas, by the way, rest assured that I have thought of them all – and concluded that, well, if I’m going to be miserable, I may as well be Miserable with Indian Food (the working title of my autobiography).
Monday
By now you’’ll know the vague structure of my days: I get up when the baby does (around 7am today, I took all of those 9am starts for granted, let me tell you) and we play and we have breakfast and we usually watch a little Baby Einstein before he goes back to bed for his morning nap.
This week, of all weeks, I should really use the time to nap myself, as I’m not sleeping great and generally feeling quite anxious and low. Instead, I sit and stare at my laptop screen for the duration of his nap (around three hours, I know, #blessed) feeling guilty that I’m not doing all the work I should be doing (Substack writing, updating the podcast YouTube, working on a freelance piece that’s due on Wednesday, starting my next book, the idea for which has been fermenting in my mind for weeks now and has yet to be made flesh – or even, you know, two words on a page).
It is not, even I realise this, a good use of my time.
Still, I stare.
The baby wakes up at around 1pm and I change his nappy and we play in his room for a bit and I put up laundry and put on laundry (this is the song that never ends, truly) and then we go downstairs and I make him lunch of cheese and chopped up tomatoes and avocado and toast and worry that he’s not eating substantial enough meals. (But he’s happy and a little chunk so surely he’s fine?)
My Mootsh subscription comes out – I have to say, the excitement of having photos printed out each month has slightly waned, perhaps mostly because I haven’t taken any great photos lately! (I might start storing up my credits and just print a boatload of photographs around Christmas that I can give to my parents as gifts.) ($17.12)
In the afternoon, he gets a bit restless and so we go for a walk. I feel as though I can only play with him for so long before I lose the will to live, and then it becomes a choice between turning on the TV (which I do a lot – probably too much) and getting out for some fresh air.
Today, fresh air wins out.
When we get back I change his nappy and start making bolognese for dinner while he takes all of the pots and pot lids and napkins and mixing bowls out of the presses and lays them around the kitchen floor. A death trap for someone who’s recently broken an ankle, let me tell you!
When Brandin and the boys get home, I hand over the baby and tell Brandin, “I’m going for a shower and a cry!” and go and take a shower but find I can’t cry so I just deep condition my hair instead. This is self-care.
We eat dinner, the boys watch some inane TV show, babser goes to bed and then Brandin and I watch the finale of Rings of Power, a show I really enjoyed but would struggle to tell you anything about now, one week later.
We’re in bed at 9.30pm but I stay up until 11pm losing at Tetris. This new obsession may not be improving my mood, but who can tell? Not I.
Daily total: $17.12
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