When hunger comes a rap, rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat at the window

Oh, the immortal words of Cabaret. I’ve always loved that line because hunger and poverty are two things I’ve experienced all too frequently in my life. And though I have tackled poverty and am getting wealthier by the day (mul-ti-pass) hunger continues to be a constant.

One of Andrew’s favorite stories about me is how one time we were in a cab with a couple of friends of ours from Chicago. It was one of those rare long cab rides, the kind that start on the Upper East Side and ends in Chelsea, as tends to happen during these types of rides we were all sitting there quietly thinking to ourselves, when I burst out, “Do you realize that most of the women in this city are starving?” Needless to say, I needed a snack.

I have been on a diet for about 5 months or 23 years, depending on how you look at it, given that I went on my first diet at 8 years old. But for the last five months or so, I’ve been actively restricting my calories to around 1600 a day and for the last two months I’ve logged more hours at the gym, than most of the trainers (the people at the reception desk actually say, “Hi Heather” before I’ve reached them with my membership card).

All this restriction has really made me aware of deprivation. With only 1600 calories a day, choices like a glass of wine or dinner become all too frequent. You’d be surprised how fast calories go. I mean, one SKIM Starbucks Grande Latte, 180 calories. Yeah, and that’s just your coffee, you haven’t even fed yourself yet. The other day I was hanging out with my friend Jenny. Jenny was a little sad and we were going for manicures. Having pretty nails always makes me happy. I’ve learned that since basically, I can’t eat, really ever, that my only option is to spend money. But first Jenny wanted to get something to eat because she said she hadn’t really “eaten anything for a couple of days”. This is like some skinny girl mystery to me. This would never happen to me. I want to know why it is that when the skinny girls get depressed or stressed or even really happy, they lose the desire to eat. How is that possible? I don’t ever think, “Wait, I’m just too unhappy to eat.” No instead I think, “wouldn’t some chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream make me feel better?” And the thing is that it would, temporarily. When I said to Jenny how I wish I could be the type of person who didn’t want to eat she said, “at least you find comfort in food.” Um, only a skinny girl who has never had to lose a pound in her life would be able to say that. For those amongst us who have struggled with our bodies, there is no comfort in food. That’s the point. Like hello, for seven seconds it tastes good and then afterwards it’s now guilt and misery and self-loathing on top of whatever was already making me depressed or stressed.

Jenny will never (SB willing, cause frankly I would never wish what I’ve gone through on anyone, except maybe Chloe Jo, yeah that’s right nemesis, I’m gunning for you) know what it’s like to have rationed out 12, yes 12, almonds, as her serving for the day. And to actually experience hunger and sit down, looking forward to eating 6 of them in one sitting and still feeling after six almonds, like maybe, maybe she shouldn’t have eaten those.

One, night not that long ago, I was suffering from seriously the worst PMS hunger of my life. It was so bad that I took a nap in the middle of the day just to keep from eating. Well, on this occasion “A” (who is very thin, but has been known to stand in front of my mirror and say, “I need to lose 3 lbs”. I’m sorry people, but 3lbs? That’s just stupid. No one, need ever worry about 3 lbs. If you need to lose 3lbs, please don’t ever tell me because I will not be able to remain polite, ok) walks into my house carrying Popeye’s. Now, it has been a few years, but believe you me, I have not forgotten how good this tasted. There I was starving people, starving, and in he walks with his fried food and I am seriously contemplating hurting him. I’m thinking that I’d be able to build a pretty good defense with the PMS/Dieting angle. Any jury of my peers, i.e. starving women, would totally understand. “A” walks in, sits down and begins to eat. For a few minutes I’m speechless and then I say, “are you kidding me? You’ve watched me not eat for the last three months and you walk into my house with fast food. Do you hate me?” I must say, “A” was a little shocked but this did not keep him from enjoying his food with a ranch dressing dip and all.