She can run like the wind in the race to win. She is swift of feet and smooth like a cat, her moves natural and sure. But in the daily task of food, she loses her ground for when it is time to eat, she eats like a caged bird and the fat woman on the scales. She is disciplined of mind, too disciplined, and she has tricked her stomach into letting her brain decide whether she is hungry or not. When her stomach screams for food, her mind becomes angry, rejecting that feeling. She cannot win this fight, this race for her health. Or so her mind tells her, tricks her and uses her. And when that happens the world is suddenly an ugly place and life is bad and food is bad and we are bad. She wants to be healthy, to eat healthy. Suddenly there is good food and bad food. She eats only the good, in her mind. Lettuce and veggies and beans and fruit. Her mood swings like the pendulum of a clock, this way and that, causing anger. The regrets come later, after she has fed her body and life is good once more. Ups and downs, highs and lows. No constant mood or feeling. This is hypoglycemia at its worst. I silently scream do not starve your body, do not listen to your mind, and I pray and hand her almonds or whatever snack I can get my hands on.
No more running from food. The finish line is a long way off.
You will be victorious. You are born to win.