Grieving

I talked at length with my therapist today about food. We seem to talk a lot about other issues, like school and work, and (mostly) family relationships. But, after the other night and my confrontation of a judgmental stranger, I wanted to talk food.

We talked about how I felt ready for such a question ("That's all you've lost?") because I've been asking it of myself for months. 

One critically important thing I'm taking away from today's session: I need to grieve food. Every time I get a fill, I feel like I'm being punished for eating: no more eating for me. When I get fills taken out, it's a celebration: I can eat! Well, eat like I want to eat. Which is too much. 

I need to get a fill and grieve the loss of my food. It's such a huge source of pleasure for me. My therapist told me that I have to grieve it and it will be a huge loss, but not one I can't learn to live without. 

I'm going to give that a try. I get my next fill on Monday.