Sunday, 19 June 2011

Just when I thought it was safe to go back into the water...

After 8+ months of relatively problem-free eating out, who should come along to our Father's Day Eve meal at Pizza Express last night but ED... and it wasn't unlike when it made a similar unwanted and distressing appearance at a country pub back in the winter and at Pizza Express the previous winter. And I have yet to work out how to deal with it...

It all started out reasonably well until Ben decided to put together his own choice of pizza toppings. When the pizza arrived, he took one look at it and the volcano started to erupt... The reason? There weren't enough of the ordinary toppings, but far too much cheese. H heard him exclaim under his breath: "I can't eat all those calories!"

Ben demanded we send it back and started to get stroppy in a loud and embarrassing way which included tears. Meanwhile baffled staff including the manager rushed to our table to see what was wrong - and in the end Ben fled from the restaurant.

Of course this totally ruined the evening for H, but, hey, we're 'old hands' at this kind of disruption...

Somehow (probably due to the wine) I managed to keep things extremely calm and calm down H who was muttering stuff like: "We are NEVER coming here again... he is no longer my son... he's had the best education in the world and look how he repays us, the selfish little g*t... I want NOTHING more to do with him... for all I care he can go off and top himself," etc etc etc...

This time I insisted we carry on as if nothing had happened, not letting ED upset us or ruin the evening more than it had done already and ignoring the untouched pizza rapidly going cold on the table beside us. To be honest, I didn't care where Ben had gone. Nor did I give a damn about what our fellow diners were thinking about the very public display. I still felt extremely 'zombie-fied' from last week, unable for some reason to feel extreme emotions. It was as if my brain and emotions were totally numb.

We finished our meal and asked for the bill which (cringe) the manager brought personally. He (cringe) said he wouldn't charge us for the uneaten pizza. We insisted we pay for it - but he wouldn't let us (cringe again), believing the restaurant was at fault. Never in a million years could he have known that there was nothing wrong with the pizza whatsoever and everything wrong with Ben... It was surreal. So I left a large tip covering the cost of the untouched pizza which I will deduct from Ben's points along with the points I deduct for 'unacceptable behaviour' which I've only had to do once before.

Then Ben turned up and apologised. I insisted he drink his glass of wine which was also standing on the table untouched. And I asked him what he was planning to do to make up for all the lost calories. When we got home he cooked himself a curry and managed to make up the lost calories.

But that wasn't the point.

It was almost a carbon copy of other experiences we had during the Bad Old Days of High Anorexia.

Why had ED returned in such a stark and disturbing way?

I wouldn't be surprised if Ben is still losing weight after last Friday's significant weight loss. He has actively been resisting extra calories over and above the agreed daily total and he hasn't been looking very healthy.

It might be just me looking for a scapegoat, but I can't help thinking that this recent decline coincided with the Assistant's remarks about Ben being 'Weight Restored'.

And this Friday, the psychiatrist made a comment that made me seethe. But that's for another blog entry...

Meanwhile there I was at 1.30am this morning, unable to sleep, just like in the High Anorexia days... making a hot drink in the kitchen and stuffing my face with 'comfort' biscuits... then trying to get back to sleep telling myself that it was neither the time nor the place to start working out a Plan to patch up any damage and get back on course.

I am just about to embark on a conversation with Ben as he's said NOTHING about last night...

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