They Shit More Than They Eat!


My friend was complaining about clearing out the horses’ stable.  I laughed and laughed, but lately the phrase has come back to haunt me.  I am beginning to feel as though I, too, shit more than I eat.

I explained earlier that for years I thought I had IBS or similar when actually what I had was a bad marriage.  These days I delight in being able to do normal poos.  But enough is enough!

Given how much I am pooing, it is a miracle I am not getting thinner.  I can only conclude that I am, in fact, consuming more than I expel.  So, how extraordinary is that?  The food I eat, I select, prepare and of my own volition put into my face, at the front of me, before my very eyes!  And yet somehow this quantity of delicacies, tidbits, meals, snacks and drinks seems to impinge less on my consciousness than the waste.  Which comes out behind my back and with no particular intervention on the part of my conscious self.  What gives?

It has often seemed to me that there are times when I feel hypnotised to eat.  That my conscious control does not come into it.  Indeed, it often seems I am thwarting my desire. I can be telling myself ‘I will not make a piece of toast’ and yet – somehow – the deed is done.  I can tell myself as I hold the toast ‘I don’t need to finish it’ and somehow the last corner disappears into my gob with the rest of it.

Hmm.  Feeling peckish.


PS The day after writing this post I noticed that Sheryl Sandberg posted this by a compulsive overeater.  I was shocked, but at the same time recognised some of what she was saying.

Image: I brought my wormery from the old place, but in consideration of the removalists’ feelings, emptied it out first.  So one of the first things I did in my new home is order more  worms.  They arrived through the post and were soon installed in my garden, where they do great work eating vegetable peelings, cardboard and the contents of the vacuum cleaner.  Apparently they don’t like members of the allium family (onions etc) but my son is dismissive of picky eaters: ‘They’ll eat what’s put on top of them!”






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Florence Feynman

I am a middle aged, middle class woman, thinking.

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