Food Is Difficult And Is A Trigger

[Seychelle]

I'm way scared starting this thread. I don't know if there are any other threads on this topic. I did an advanced search on key words like food, starvation and starved but nothing much came up, except my own posts.

This is really really really hard to write about. For me, it's harder than writing about physical or sexual abuse stuff. And I don't know why.

I got the courage to start this thread after seeing someone else post about food being a trigger. It's going to take me a long time to be able to talk about this in any detail. But starting this thread is a big step for me.

This isn't about eating disorders which come up as a side effect of trauma/abuse histories. This is about food being part of traumatic events.
I guess I'm hoping others who also have problems with food being a trigger might post replies here too.

I am so scared posting this thread. This is all I can write for today.

*repeats to self* All safe now. There is food in my kitchen and in the shops.

 

[Seychelle]

I've felt out of sorts since I posted this. Hard to feel safe. Fear of not having enough to eat, shame from wanting to eat and shame from feeling hunger. One thing that triggers anger is my OH saying he is hungry. :stupid:

 

[linasmom]

Seychelle,

I can tell you my experience with food, it doesn't sound like you and I have the same issues, but I thought I'd share.

When I was younger, my mother used to force me to eat certain foods that I despised. She knew I despised them but it didn't matter to her - she would make me sit there until I ate it. I remember feeling like I would rather die than eat. My mother also packed me the same lunch for 15 years. 15 years - the same damn lunch. A ham sandwich, an apple and a drink. I know it doesn't sound "traumatic" - but this was just one of many things that my mother did to torture me. I now have a severe gag reflex and can barely take pills.

On sort of the same note - she would also monitor my bowel movements obsessively. If I didn't go when she thought I should be going - she would make me sit on the toilet until I went and if I didn't go, I would get beaten with the wooden salad spoon (much wider than a regular wooden spoon).

I never used to talk about this. Only recently have I been able to talk about these specific things because I was so embarrassed about them. I still have "bathroom" issues and like I said before, I have a severe gag reflex.

I just thought I'd share because you're trying to share your story and I understand how hard it can be to do that.

Best,
Rachel

 

[brokenchild]

I'm glad you started this thread. I think this is something that's hard to explain to a lot of people and they don't quite get it when you do explain, at least that's been my experience.

I haven't have trouble talking about this aspect of my history but it hasn't helped me much. The trigger seems to still be there, I just try to ignore it. I wrote about it in my journal yesterday in hopes of "getting over" it.

Food is so central to survival and messing with that physically as well as psychologically at a young age is bound to have repercussions later in life.

I'm here if you ever need to talk.

 

[linasmom]

There's something I just remembered, Seychelle I hope you don't mind me sharing on your thread -

my mother refused to pack me a different lunch and eventually, as I grew older, I just wouldn't eat lunch at school...I would throw it away and just not eat. I remember forgetting to throw it away a few times and it would be left in my backpack that night - my mother searched through my backpack every night - and I remember her finding the uneaten lunch and beating me for it. But she would never pack me a different lunch.

It makes me wonder - did she do it on purpose so that she would in some twisted way (my mother is extremely twisted in the way she would do things to me) to starve me because she knew that I wasn't eating the lunch? My mother had an eating disorder - I used to hear her in the bathroom sticking her finger down her throat and throwing up. It's like she was trying to project her own eating issues onto me in a very manipulative way. (well, one of many issues she projected onto me).

Anyway, I thought about posting this in my diary but thought I would just go ahead and share it here since this thread sparked these new memories - i don't know how I forget these things sometimes.

I'm so confused, why would my mother do that? Anyway, Seychelle, thank you for this thread.

 

[cec]

Hi Seychelle

This is just a stab in the dark, but because food is such a basic need for life, I think it would be easy to develop anxieties around food if one is deprived, abused by it or around it when being abused, i.e. being abused at the dinner table. Also, if food is a trigger, one can't avoid that trigger and survive, thus eating, grocery shopping, or preparing food, etc, becomes an anxious event. The only thing I can think of is to identify exactly what triggers you, certain types of foods, eating at certain times,in certian places etc. and avoid what you can. You may need to do a real inventory of these triggers. I don't have a food anxiety so please take into account that this is coming from someone who knows nothing about this, but I do know about anxiety having to live with it night and day. Identifying and avoiding triggers is key for me. But I understand this can't always be done around food. Tough one

Linasmom, I can imagine this (anxiety around food) would indeed be true for you. I wonder though, if your mom ate the same lunch as you did each day, or did she eat nothing at all? It could go both ways: Could she on some psychological level have been trying to teach you to hate food to protect you in some way, or maybe she was trying protect you from getting the eating disorder she had?

Just my thoughts feel free to throw them away.

Paul

 

[linasmom]

Cec,

I never thought of it that way, you've presented an interesting interpretation.

She did not eat the same lunch as I did - she was/is a school teacher (the irony) and she would eat lunch from the school cafeteria.

My interpretation is that my mother did things on purpose, in order to have a "reason" to beat me. ie "she didn't eat that same lunch I've packed her year after year even though I know she doesn't like it, therefore, she disobeyed me and now I have a reason to discipline her" - which for my mother, discipline = beating .

Still, I'm thinking of what you said, because I never thought of it that way.

 

[redtriskell]

Thanks for this topic, Seychelle. I absolutely identify with what you seem to be trying to get out. I was starved as punishment, for amusement, and because of poverty. I became accustomed to going without food for days at a time. And, tragically for me, when I was allowed to eat (very regimented), I often threw up my food because of stress or because it'd been so long, my stomach couldn't handle it. I vomited every single day, usually more than once, for about ten years. I have some odd food rituals. My father was a chef (when he had a job). He LOVED making something tasty smelling for himself and eating it in front of me when all I'd had was a piece of bread or maybe a slice of cheap bologna. Tell you what, I'd starve to death in front of bologna, lima beans, or powdered mashed potatoes.

Therapy helped me in that I learned a few very important things.
1: Food is not the enemy.
2: I learned to cook so I would always know what was in my food- VERY helpful.
3: You NEED food to live.
4: It is ok to eat something if you're hungry. (sometimes I have a hard time identifying hunger, but I try)

And, last of all before I close for tonight, I am so lucky. I now have a pantry in my house the size of a small bathroom. It is full of food that I can eat anytime I want. There isn't anything I hate in there. And, sometimes, when I'm feeling weird or anxious, I just go in the pantry and look at all my safe to eat food until I feel calmer. Sounds goofy, huh? red

 

[redtriskell]

And, oh yeah, my dad also enjoyed forcing food into me. Along with other things that wre not food. It was horrible to associate food with terror for so long... red

 

[Seychelle]

Wow! Thanks for all the replies. Happy for everyone to keep posting in this thread - easier to write if others write too.

It's still really hard to write about this. I'm kinda blanking out/frozen mind but I did read everything that people wrote in this thread.

I have a simultaneous fear of being starved and being too fat. These things are inter-related. I either over-eat or under-eat now. Earlier this year, I wasn't eating anything at home except breakfast. Eating at work was a bit easier, made myself get stuff at lunch, or I'd go out for dinner by myself so I'd actually eat. Still have no idea why that happened - I was freaking out about a totally unrelated trauma. Dropped a lot of weight.

Exercise is part of this too. I can't handle doing exercise for the sake of it.

This is going to take me a while to work up to it. Fear of starvation is there. I freak out/get extremely anxious just before Christmas and Easter because the supermarkets are shut those days. Very scary. Even if my kitchen is full.

I like having food in the cupboards. But too much food is overwhelming and I freak out. I cope better when the refrigerator is mostly empty.

I will write more later.

 

[Seychelle]

Food is so central to survival and messing with that physically as well as psychologically at a young age is bound to have repercussions later in life.

This is just a stab in the dark, but because food is such a basic need for life, I think it would be easy to develop anxieties around food if one is deprived

I think this is the key to it for me.

And I don't know if this sounds totally crazy or not, but it does help a lot to hear that others have had similar experiences, even if I wish none of this had happened to anyone. I feel a bit less scared by it now, more calm/balanced. I think I will try writing some of the details. Some of it will be the first time ever (I've tried writing about this before a few years ago, but didn't get very far, unlike the other abuse). Most of the other trauma I've written elsewhere at least once.

Food was always very regimented growing up. Not allowed to ask for any extra food between meals, or at meals. Not allowed to be hungry or say I was hungry, so I learnt to tune it out. If asked to choose food when out in public and my mother was there, I had to choose what I knew she would approve of, otherwise she'd disapprove and there'd be a good chance I'd miss out completely. In my late teens, I was always way more scared of my mother finding out I'd bought myself a chocolate bar than her finding out I'd been drinking or smoking. If she had, then disapproval plus less or nothing for dinner.

This bit is the trauma for me. In my early teens, wasn't given enough food, had to exercise too much (not my choice). Stole extra little bits of food here and there, felt extremely guilty about it. I always remembered the stealing extra food (eg pinches of sugar from the sugar bowl in the cupboard) and being confused why I did it, because I I blanked out the hunger/being too skinny thing. Buried the fear. This is where most of my food issues come from.

Not enough food might have happened when I was little too. Memories are less clear.

Over-ripe bananas are very triggery for me. I gag and retch if I try to eat one and I usually cry. Even the smell is difficult. Mashed bananas are the worst. I have an impression this is related to when I was very small. Under-ripe bananas are fine, though. I like them.

Green apples are difficult too. I can't make myself eat them now. I was allowed to eat an extra apple a day at home. So I did. In hindsight, I was starving and that was all that was available. It wasn't enough. I struggle to make myself eat any fruit.

Most of my triggers around food are not related to particular foods. It's food in general. Currently, most of my trauma freak-outs relate to dinner time. eg if we eat too much one night and there isn't enough for leftovers the next day. Or if OH is cooking and the food gets overcooked/burnt. Or if OH says he's hungry. Or if OH doesn't leave enough behind for me to go back for seconds - even if I know I won't eat more, I need there to be food left when we serve dinner. If I buy stuff for me (eg chocolate), it's extremely triggery (extremely!) if my OH eats any of it. Takes me a long long time to calm down again because the distress is so severe.

Going out to dinner with friends is tricky if it's a restaurant where people share dishes. I get obsessed (but try very very hard to hide it) about whether people are taking their fair share and I get really scared that there won't be enough for me. Occasionally I have shared sushi platters with friends. I like sharing with my friend who is a bit of a control freak - I know that she watches the plate as carefully as me and I know that I am guaranteed to have exactly half the food. Another friend, I hate sharing a platter with him, he doesn't pay attention and I get freaked out because I miss out on some of it (but again, I hide it, I'm just screaming on the inside).

Um. It is weird to actually write this down. Writing about how I am now is ok. Writing about the past is very very hard. I have tried to write about this before, but I ended up starving myself and it took me a long time to get out of it. Trauma reactions are survivable but the food thing worries me, because I know how easy it is to stop eating. But I'm hoping I will be ok this time. I've been over-eating the past few weeks (no idea why), so if I don't eat much after having written this stuff, there is a bit of a buffer. Gah. This is so crazy.

 

[dlross]

A few weeks ago I cooked myself some tortellini for supper. I didn't cook it quite enough, so it was a little chewy. Mid-way through the meal, I started flashing on being forced to eat a particular kind of pasta as a kid. The large shell-shaped kind of noodles. I was actually terrified of the things. Somehow they seemed like bugs to me. And the ribbed texture made me gag. I remember sitting in front of a dish of the things, being forced to eat them, in spite of my terror and nausea. Yet another lesson in the saving grace of dissociation. So a few weeks ago, there I sat, sobbing and shaking. But at least I had the choice to put my fork down this time!

Some time between the ages of 8 and 10, my mother put me on a diet. There are no pictures in existence of any but a skinny me, so there was no need for this. But it was another of her ways of making plain that my status was less than that of my siblings. To this day I cannot stand skim milk. The very thought of the stuff makes me angry. I was not starved to the point of any kind of ill health, but my spirit suffered daily from the lesson in less than. And it is probably around that time that I developed a habit of stealing candy from the corner store. Thus confirming to myself, of course, that I was a bad kid, deserving of what was being done to me.

I am currently in treatment for an eating disorder. No suprises there.