Today was a vegetarian test day. I went out to eat with a good friend for a late lunch/early dinner, and it was the first time I’d dined out since I’d started seriously cutting out meat. It was fairly successful. I had a house veggie burger with a side of asparagus; I also shared a nachos appetizer. It was meat nachos, but I grabbed the chips that had no meat, or just traces of it. (I guess that’s cheating a little bit.) We finished up by sharing a brownie for dessert.
In related news, I thought it was ice cream that was the only source of my stomach woes, but something else did it for me today, and I’m betting on the caramel-topped brownie dessert. Now I’m thinking again that I have some aversion to refined sugars and probably refined wheat also. Of course, it didn’t help that I overstuffed myself.
So, after dinner, when we rushed off to Brian’s work party, I couldn’t touch a thing. Everything smelled wonderful; everything looked great, but I didn’t feel like trying anything. There’s an odd internal thing that I do now when I’m around food and I’m full — because sometimes I go on autopilot and just stuff my face, even as my body is subtly telling me it doesn’t want it. I test the food out in my head first; I imagine myself eating the food and check my body’s response to the imagery. Every time tonight the response was revulsion. So, I was content to watch everyone around me eating. I contentedly inhaled the pleasing aromas, while paying attention to the unhappiness stewing inside my stomach.
Thankfully, now as it gets to be bedtime, my stomach is just returning to normal. Which . . . also means I’m regaining my appetite. (Sigh.) Sometimes my head and my stomach just can’t get the timing right.