I’ve always wondered at the ability of food to affect my mood one way or the other. Take yesterday morning for example, I’d mentally drafted out my food plan for the day before I even got out of bed. That often happens anyway when you’re preoccupied with food like I am, but I’m trying to be especially diligent this week due to my baboon-coloured bum and enforced inactivity. I barely managed three hundred doddery steps yesterday and I’m not holding out much hope that today will be a whole lot better.

As I shuffled downstairs, I was visualising the juicy sweet mangos that I had picked up at the weekend, which together with a handful of blueberries would provide me with an exotic point-free breakfast. Mango is my favourite fruit, so despite the lack of a big fat bacon sandwich I was approaching breakfast with enthusiasm, you know? No watery skimmed milk and MDF cereal on my watch.

They were monster mangoes, I mean a proper fat-girl pick. I couldn’t wait. However, as it turned out, both of them were rotten. I mean come on, both of them. Instead of sweet juicy mango coloured flesh, I was met with dark mushy stuff that gave off the kind of whiff that said don’t eat me unless you want to shit through the eye of a needle for a week. I was gutted. So my points-free breakfast back-up plan, having decided that an egg-cup sized portion of blueberries flying solo wasn’t going to cut it, was a tin of grapefruit segments.

Which would have been perfectly lovely, if my palette hadn’t been anticipating mango. When I’m in the mood for sharp zesty and citrus, grapefruit does the job admirably. When I’m in the mood for exotic juicy and tropical, it doesn’t. It scored an epic fail. And just like the flavours dancing on my tastebuds, my mood immediately turned from sunny to sour.

If I really think about it, food has always had the ability to colour my mood a few shades lighter, or darker depending on the situation. And I’ve always struggled with food envy, you know when you’re out with friends and they order food which is better than yours when it all arrives? Or bigger than yours, which is even more irritating.

If you read the Tapas, Anyone? post way back in the early days you’ll already know that the food element of any evening out can completely overtake any social aspects for me, as the asshole voice gets involved with an opinion, no matter how unwelcome.

And let’s not even get started on how many times the needle has moved from one end of the spectrum to the other, when I’ve been in the grip of a binge…I could easily move from anticipation and euphoria to satisfied and all the way along to frustrated, resentful, guilty and devastated…all in the space of an hour. And every bit of it was food-related.

I realise I’m probably coming across as all kinds of weird. But let’s be honest, if the relationship I’ve always had with food was on the right side of normal, we probably wouldn’t be here, right? Just to put it into context, much of this conflict goes on on the inside, and you generally get an even-tempered smiley person facing out to the world in general.

I know that the key to a life free of food-inspired mood swings is all about striking the right balance. Nutritious and tasty food with the odd treat thrown in for good measure. Creating a framework that works for me and which I get comfortable with to the point it becomes my new normal. And I guess that’s what this whole thing is about isn’t it…me finding my new normal. I know I’ve got a way to go but I’m working on it 🙂

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