A glance at my adult relationship with food.

I woke hours ago to my evening med alarm (8 or 9pm) and before I was even able to clearly open my eyes to see (heavy from sleep) my stomach and brain screamed somewhere deep from within FEEEEEEED MEEEEEEEE. I've been on a short term round of prednisone for my lungs and my appetite has been better for the duration (not a complaint, as food aversion has become part of my daily life much to my frustration, as a result of chronic pain, nausea, and limited energy). So I had to sit on the edge of my bed waiting for my eyes to open without being bleary and I nibbled cheezits for a bit (about a fistfull) and then decided to wait for a proper meal until after morning meds so I could prepare a robust meal that could be eaten in two or three attempts if necessary. 

So I took my morning meds early for me (4am instead of 5am) and then put together a multipart meal which is usually far too exhausting but with the prednisone is possible for now. I've eaten what I can now (less than half what I prepared) and now I'm sitting and waiting to see if I'm Done or just need a moment to let it settle. 

I never would have thought in my teens even though I already had a stress sensitive stomache, that I would ever see eating as exhausting or frustrating because I truly love food. I don't love to cook but thar is because I am prone to dropping things, burning myself, and falling without warning and all of those ate much higher risk with low bloodsugar because of POTS. 

That has been exactly my experience the last few years though as diverticulosis has greatly reduced what I can safely eat, and having pre-diabetic bloodsugar numbers for slightly longer has made it challenging to make sure I eat enough to keep meds down but not so much I'm breaking the delicate balance of "abled" energy I have to work with.

I don't wish to be anyone but me, however I do wish there was a proper and permanent cure for some of my illnesses because having fragile guts AND hormone problems AND POTS, EDS, Asthma and more means I am swimming in tiny circles with broken limbs trying not to drown in life.