I had a business meeting a long way from home this week, and since I was travelling there and back in a day I decided to go on the train. The meeting went well, all except for the Ben & Jerry’s vending machine which randomly stood right outside the room we were using. It was almost as though someone had put it there to torture me.
I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that my head spent at least half the time out in the corridor mentally choosing which flavour I’d dive into first, given half the chance. Clearly there are some bloody tough meetings that go on in that room if they need to keep emergency ice-cream on hand…thankfully I managed to resist, despite the Asshole voice giving it his best shot.
Anyway, as I waited for my train home I bought lunch from the coffee shop on the platform. The lady in front of me in the queue had an armful of stuff, and made a big deal of pointing out to the lady who served her that not all of it was for her. I don’t know why, but I knew right in that moment that actually, it was.
As sure as eggs is eggs. She sat across from me in the same carriage, a little way down the aisle, and over the course of the two hour journey she worked her way through three packs of sandwiches, four bags of crisps and several bars of chocolate. I tried hard not to watch you know? It was none of my business but if I’m honest, I was a bit choked.
I was her, only a few months ago, and it really got to me.
There’s a certain methodology when you binge, that I recognised. Watching her felt familiar, but horrifying. Passing comment when she bought the food, about it not all being for her, well I’ve done that a hundred times and that’s how I knew.
Haha no, of course not all for me! I’ll take a couple of each flavour, I’m not sure which they’d prefer…I’ll take a selection then they can choose. This should keep them quiet for a while….me, I could have been on the stage.
She positioned the bag out of sight, under her coat on the seat beside her. She never had more than one sandwich wrapper in front of her at any one time, empty packets were quickly tucked out of sight, and every time she pulled another thing out of the bag she did a quick recce first to see if anyone was watching. Her body language made her look as guilty as sin, furtive and uncomfortable. She didn’t look as though she was enjoying what she was eating, and yes, she was very fat.
Please understand I wasn’t judging her, in fact nothing could be further from the truth. I felt sadness, and empathy and every bit of me wanted to reach out to her. But…well, you just can’t, can you? I can imagine the reaction it would have provoked in me, if some random stranger had stuck their sticky beak in and dared to address how much I just ate. Rage, humiliation, shame and undoubtedly a desire to rip their head off.
Quite apart from risking a smack in the chops, I had no right to intrude on a moment where she was probably feeling shit about herself anyway, if she was thinking, or feeling anything at all. Not my business. But, I cared, even if I couldn’t tell her.
I wanted to tell her all about the sweet spot, and the asshole, and the posse, and the chatter. I wanted to include her in the laughing and the relating, and the supporting. I wanted her to have what we all have. And it just made me think, how lucky am I, to have this safe place where you all understand, and even though we’re all working through our own issues, and yours might be different to mine it feels like we’re in it together you know?
I wish I could have told her ?
Awwww!!! This made my day. I know what you mean. I don’t typically use public transportation, but we are doing a weight loss challenge at work and I am sending out nutrition information to people to help them on the way. Anyway, a couple people who are more than large have opted not to join the challenge, which is perfectly fine and I really don’t care one way or another. But I hear from the other participants. “So and So said she wasn’t going to join the challenge because she is doing her own thing.” “Miss Missy Miss isn’t joining the challenge because….” And I feel so bad for them. I mean, not for nothing, I get it. I’ve been there. But it’s so awesome to have group support, to share in a joint venture, regardless of where you’ve been. One of the participants has been bringing in the WORST food every day for lunch too and she’ll say to me, “Don’t look at me when I’m eating.” Or, “I don’t want to hear it.” It’s all good. I don’t judge. It’s up to each person to find their own path. If you want pierogis smothered in butter for lunch. Okay. If you want a turkey wrap with french fries. Okay. I am not the judge. But I do feel bad because I know how I felt when I ate like that, the hidden guilt from the binge, how binging leads to more binging. Great post, Dee!
Thanks Tracey, you know I’m still thinking about that lady!
The other night we went to Cheesecake Factory – and as I am studying my WW app to decide what to get with my 12 points left – I am watching a few tables down an overweight couple getting their huge plates of food (now empty) taken away and then ordering 3 (maybe 4) slices of cheesecake to go. Now perhaps == they were heading to a friends house to share. Perhaps. But my guess is they were going home. How many calories are those slices — 1000? Again not judging and I’ve been there, but I’m glad I’m not there now.
It’s weird how our perspective changes isn’t it, when we find that sweet spot. I’m glad – and grateful – that I’m looking at it from this side of the fence too, and it’s way too fragile to ever take for granted the fact that I am! 🙂
There are so many situations where i see people and i want to go up and say, it’s okay, i know, i go through it too, let’s talk. There have been times where i have managed to say a few words to someone, but the only reason i can is i live in the South, where we are able to be friendly with people in grocery lines and make instant friends waiting at a concession stand at a ball game. Mostly it’s just a smile and a quick, “It will all work out.” It would be wonderful if i could do more.
It’s such an intensely personal thing isn’t it Mimi. But I agree, it would.
I remember the guilty self loathing I felt when I ordered two dinners from Burger King and two “diet” sodas- a large size and a medium size (for my imaginary friend). I think your kind and caring attitude toward our soul sister sent blessings her way and good Karma back to you. I wish blessings and healing for all of us in the posse.
How lovely, thank you. You know it’s funny, I thought I was the only one in the world who did things like that. I’ve been through the drive through at McDonalds and had four bacon and egg mcmuffins ‘for the family’. I’m so grateful my monster is under control right now. One day at a time 🙂
Poor lady. I agree, there is nothing you could have said or done. I’m sure every part of you wanted to reach out and tell her she isn’t alone. We all have to find our own path and as much as we want to share it when we are successful it probably won’t always be received in the manner we offer it. My heart aches for her, we (the posse) can relate to her. Maybe I shouldn’t be so presumptuous so I will say my heart aches for her.
I’ve never seen a Ben & Jerry’s vending machine – thank goodness! It’s bad enough I have to walk past it in the store. (I have to go look up the word presumptuous now because the spelling looks off).
Yeah I think you speak for all of us here Jo, we get it. I doubt anyone who’s never struggled with weight issues would be paying much heed to our chatter, and if you have, well you just get it. I’m still thinking about her.
And yes, the vending machine was awesome, in a can’t have it kind of way!
Hi, all. This hit home… scatter-shot, at that. First, Dee’s on a train (?! right??) gazing furtively at herself a long time ago, oh wait, herself day before yesterday. & there’s what? several dozen new confidantes looking thru her eyes – omg, absolutely riveted.
So tangents arcing thru my brain like cosmic rays in a supercollider * like: what is WITH this insidious hard-sell of impulse commodities? Sometimes you get weary of fending them off. I remember your post, Dee, when you had to leave the house at oh-dark-thirty & just shoved your breakfast sandwich in your purse… then it tasted like ashes while the other passengers watched you eat. This bloody thing is complicated.
* I’m not a rocket scientist, but ? I contrived to cohabit with one, once. My Mr. Muscle. Cheated on me, natch, & dropped me after all. sigh. OMG I don’t miss THAT noise.
Well Fleury-pops that’s his big gnarly loss then, right? How very dare he. And you’re right, it is complicated. But I know we’ll figure it out 🙂