What do i do on dates | Shrink Tales

I went to therapy hoping that Ish would have a solution to my problem of not wanting to go for therapy. It was natural, she said. I had been told that we were going to touch upon the topic called eating habits and my mind was resisting it because it was a very tough area. 

It’s true. I never even thought that i would ever talk about it to anyone. After the most depressive stage of my relationship with food that happened in Kolkata, which was at least three years ago, i had come a long way. A long way down the road of making peace with my unhealthy eating habits, relationship with food and my body. But one part of me was also seeking help. It had found its way out somehow battling the other more powerful part that told me that it was okay to continue this way. 

I was comfortable talking about it. I felt it was a safe place, that nothing i said there would be used against me. Ish said that that was a good sign. 

I told her the instances of fat shaming that i had faced – the ones that had stuck to my memory. For all these years. She asked me what i felt when i narrated it. I felt sorry for me.

At this age, i know what injustice was done to a girl who was not even aware of the violence in body shaming. 

Ish asked me how i managed this conflict within me. My ideology, feminism, has long made me understand the violence in fat shaming. When i talk to people who are suffering due to this evil, i become the stronger one, i ask them to question the notion of beauty. And yet i would go back home to check my weight on two different weighing scales. I told her that i was protecting myself because if i practise what i preach, i would go back to the kind of sadness and bitterness i had in me when i was in SRFTI, battling the same problem. 

Ish thought that what i said was important, and that it indicated the depth of what had happened in SRFTI. It was true. All the harassment and violence i faced in family, high school etc. regarding my body had condensed into that period in SRFTI where i was being told by at least one person a day, that i had put on weight. One of the instances of sexual harassment was when this professor told me how it was evident when he looked from behind that i had gained weight, ‘if you know what i mean’ he added, just short of a wink to fit the typical sexual harassment shown in films. 

While thinking about the incidents that i recalled during therapy, i am also thinking if, when i write about this, i should elucidate or not. We have got used to narrations of abuse with details. So many times have police asked me where and how exactly i was touched. Does it really matter who, where or how the comments about my body were made? I’ll figure it out but yes, everyone who has been body shamed knows how some sentences stick to you. My earliest memory is from when i was nine or ten years old. 

But she was right about SRFTI. That wound has not healed. I don’t think even my break up with Jay had left me this broken. The open wound stings whenever i think of the place. 

But when i was back home, i felt relieved, that someone else knows a part of me that i have not spoken about to anyone. I don’t think my problem will be solved. I kept asking Ish what she was going to do with all the information i gave her. She told me that as always, she was not going to do anything.  The goal was to make me look at things differently. Isn’t it contradictory that i don’t speak about my problems with anyone (except my shrink and earlier with her) but am telling the whole world about my problems by blogging about it?

It’s different is all i can say. Somehow, when i make something public, i feel that it becomes very private. I assume that i will not be asked about it because it’s just what i write. Like the time when i blogged about smoking weed in RK’s village, i knew that Mother could read it, if she wanted to. But i just firmly believe that she won’t say anything to me. [Oh yes, she did. Say. A lot of things to me :D]

The session at Ish’s did not give me much hope but then the part of me that wishes to be healthy is relieved that it has at least got this done. This in itself is a big achievement for me. 

Whenever i eat above the quota i have allowed myself, i feel guilty. I think of the weighing scale that was going to show an unfavourable result. I go to the scale, always sure that i have gained weight. So in case i have lost weight, i feel relieved. 

I am ever scared about my tendencies coming back to me.

One my many ways of ‘dieting’ was surviving on biscuits. The mark that had to be achieved was till the time white mark(s) appeared on my face. Sometimes the method would be to make sure that i am constipated or have very little bowel movement. I have a mannerism of touching my collar bones because at some point i thought i could gauge if i had gained weight or not by the way they felt.

I think i started taking selfies to see myself because i understood that mirrors wouldn’t tell me enough. I could only make out my fatness in photographs, if at all. 

Ish asked me what i did when i went on dates. I was like, date? What date? I live with the guy. 

But yes, when there is a craving, i prepare for it. If there is an unexpected plan, i try to make up for it the next day, or just take small bites from whatever others are eating. I do induced vomiting albeit rarely. I think i am okay now because i have a sense of victory over my body. Yes, sometimes there is blood in my stool and sometimes i am really constipated and sometimes my tummy is upset and makes me uncomfortable but as long as i have a figure i am okay with, on the weighing scale – i am a person.

Love to Hate Eating | Shrink Tales

Content warning: Derogatory remarks about body weight have been included to portray the mental health issues related to body image etc. 

Let's talk food. I love cooking. Hate eating. Love to hate eating.

Checked weight. Saw that it hasn't changed from yesterday. Felt angry towards self. Resolved to eat less the next day.

It's always a battle. While making food for partner i feel like making for myself. But it is a battle and i have to win it. I will not make for myself. Instead i will have tea and extra points if i don't eat a piece out of his plate.

Checked weight. The number has not changed. Worried. Thinking of i should reduce the number of tea i have at home. Feel like sleeping. Let me sleep for some time and then check if weight changes.

Stopped working and slept. Weight didn't change. Disappointed but not much because i'd prepared myself for it. Checked on the other scale. Felt a little better. Not much.

Checked weight again. Number unchanging. Worried. Trying to dind out why the situation. Is it sleep? That seems to be the only difference. Imagine myself going to Delhi and Anu saying 'you put on weight.'

Felt guilty after having leftover rice from partner. Thought about what to do the next day to compensate.

Today weighing scale again showed the stagnant number despite me feeling strongly that it would've changed. I stepped down and stepped on it again and this time it showed a difference. Stepped on it again to see if the number remained the same. It did. Became happy. Felt light. Enthusiastic. At night, asked partner if we should eat out. I think i should starve for one more day before i do that.

During therapy last week, ish had asked me if there was any difference in the way I functioned when I was fat. I thought about the time I was over 56 kgs. Strangely, all that frustration didn't seem to have affected how I created. I made films that too, good films when I was fat. One of the most memorable stage performances I did was when I was fat. Oh yeah that's the one this woman beater said 'why didn't you let me have you (means fuck you) when you looked like this. 

Ish asked me what I felt when I thought of that aspect. That nothing was different when I was fact as far as my productivity was concerned. I didn't know. It could be that I was resisting the feeling of being relieved or even happy to an extent. It's perhaps good news that doesn't sound good to me. 

It could be true. But I was never at peace, was I. I did have those episodes of binge eating. Did have those breakdowns. And hiding behind a facade which said that I wanted to put on weight. Don't know. It could be that I didn't know how else to function when fat. 

Three Chutneys White | Mallus Like Chutney

Sometimes i think if Kieslowsky ever had chutney. Hot chutney, white, over hot dosa. You have to mix it with your hands and let the crispy dosa melt in the heat of the moment. When you have a sip of tea along with it you are all ready to make your next trilogy. 

For Kieslowsky :-o

I am sorry. I am mad about a lot of filmmakers and i imagine them having all this mallu food whenever i cook. And even though my partner thinks i cook for them, i actually cook to blog. *Shrug*

So chutney is coconut ground with stuff with a little water. Thanks to non mallus who like 'south Indian' food, there are a lot of names for chutney floating around. So let me tell you what chutney is for me. It is not chammanthi. Chammanthi is solid. Chutney is watery. Chammanthi can be had with rice. Chutney can't be had with rice unless you are one of those who eat beef with pazhampori. 

Even malayalees mix these names sometimes and since it is language, we can't call anything authentic. But that's allowed for mallus. We make this stuff. Non mallus should really stop calling stuff by weird names like 'mendu vada' etc. I once heard a guy ask for 'mehndi (henna) vada' you know! 

So if you want to make chutney, you have to scrape coconut. There is no way around it. I scrape an entire coconut. It gives me two cups of grated coconut. 

Cracked-open-a-minute-ago coconut.

Add chopped small onions called shallots or cheriyulli or chomannulli. I used six or seven robust cheriyullis. Add a piece of chopped ginger. Add 5 green chillies. (I like it hot) I add two curry leaves just for fun. We will be adding them later anyway. Add salt. I added 1.5 teaspoon.  

Mix all of this in a mixie after adding a bit of water. Don't add a lot of water or else the mixie won't be able to handle it and splatter it on your kitchen walls. This does not mean that this happened with me. Ever. 

Little by little i added almost 1 cup of water to the mixie coconut mixture. 

Now heat coconut oil in a pan or cheenachatti or a meenchatti, add  and splutter mustard seeds. Add two or three dried red chillies. Add some curry leaves. 

Now pour the coconut mixture to the chatti. Add more water to get the consistency you want. For the two cups of coconut i used, including the water used in the mixie, i usually end up using three cups of water. Check salt. I added half a teaspoon more. When bubbles come switch it off. Don't heat it till it boils like crazy.  When you see small volcanic eruptions from the sides and the centre, you can turn off the fire. 

Add caption

To grind in mixie

Coconut scraped - 2 cups
Green chillies - 5 
1 inch ginger - chopped
7 shallots chopped
salt - 1.5 teaspoon
2 curryleaves

To heat in coconut oil

Mustard 1/2 teaspoon
3 dried red chillies
Curry leaves 6/7

Pour the mixture. Add water. Adjust salt. Eat. 

It takes me 30 minutes to make. Including coconut scraping. 

Shrink Tales | Eating

After leaving therapy and reaching home, i tried to deny what had happened during therapy. I tried to forget. That i had been touched some place where it still hurts. Pain is different on different occasions, as we all know. This one was like a toothache of sorts. Once when you chew, there will come a moment when you bite hard and there is excruciating pain. It takes some time to subside. The memory of it will never leave you. To avoid that, you will start chewing with the other side of the mouth. Using that part alone will result in more cavities there later but for now, you are good. Occasionally pieces of food get stuck in the cavity of the tooth that hurt you. When you pick it, you are so careful because you know that at a point you could touch the nerve ending - which is when it will take you back to the kind of pain you experienced when you chewed when your guards were down. So i had been pricked. At one such cavity, Ish, my therapist had found the nerve ending.

I started thinking why someone would be born the way i was born. Because lack of self esteem, the root of all evil in me, is not something a baby can have, is it? That's what i meant when i drew the broken heart baby once. Something was wrong from then, i felt. Feeling not good enough.

But what puzzles me is the contradiction. I think too much of myself. I think i am good at a lot of things, i think i am above a lot of people. But everything that unravelled in therapy pointed towards the idea that i thought everyone else to be better than me and loved everyone else to bits because they are all better than me. Grandparents, sibling, lovers...

Ish warned me that she was going to utter a seriously grave sentence. She said that everything i did was suicidal.

It seemed true. In the case of my eating habits, i didn't have to worry if someone would stop me. If i were to cut myself, i would be noticed. People might talk to me. But if i ate a lot of food, losing all control, no one would even suspect that something was wrong. How many people have passed by me when i was on the fourth eatery to stuff myself with more unwanted food.

Again, there are contradictions. Sometimes i have used my masochistic tendencies of scarring myself to impress people. Open my vulnerability to others in hope that that will get them interested in me. It always worked but now i know that it wasn't because they felt that i needed help it was because they sensed the vulnerability and i was easy game in such a position. Once a man spoke truth when he said that he wondered why i never scarred my face. I went to my neck because of that line the next time but yes, it is true, i have never scarred my face. Because i think i look good.

How is that possible?

Again, when i poured wax over my foot, when it left a mark, ugly one, i wasn't bothered. The scars on my arms - yellow teeth out of smoking, these don't bother me. It's too much for me to understand.

When others always held so much power over me, when they were always kept in a position where they could hurt me with just one line 'hey you put on weight,' i was getting back at them by doing things to myself because i couldn't ever do things to them. They were too powerful. Also because, as a person, i thought deserved it? I asked myself and thought out aloud if i was such a bad person. Before Ish said it, i knew the answer. Does it really matter?

Why do we say that no one, no rapist, no murderer should be subjected to capital punishment? When i vehemently oppose capital punishment, punishment by the state on people they think are 'bad,' as always, in the most hypocritical manner, i always tried to subject myself to capital punishment.

During the week unfavourable numbers on the weighing scale scared me a bit more than usual. I started wondering if therapy was working and if i would leave my unhealthy eating habits. If that happened, i would definitely go back to what i used to feel when i was 10 kilos heavier. And that is some place i didn't want to go. As usual i started digging reasons for the unchanging number on the scale. It had to be sleep. I was sleeping less because of the new job and i quickly made up my mind to tell my boss that i was going to quit if i prove beyond doubt that the reason was the new schedule.

It is the first time that i am getting scared that therapy will work. First time i wish Ish failure.

I have managed to forget a lot that happened during therapy in an attempt of self defence. I am so scared of what is going to happen. It is making me tense.