Playing with Fire

I want to stuff myself with sugar. Right now.

I drive to Helsinki to the yoga school. I'm eating a snack in the dressing room (one banana and a handful of walnuts and seeds), wondering why I don’t change. I get the answer a minute later when I stand up and walk out.

This is not irratic, I tell myself. I’m flying to Oslo tomorrow morning and have a million things to do. I have no time for yoga.

On my way to the parking lot I pass two supermarkets. Fuck fuck fuck! I start getting angry. I really want to walk in. I remember I’ve run out of deodorant and almost rush in but somewhere I know. If I walk into that shop now I will not be able to control myself.

Outside the City Centre I almost take a scenery route to Sipoo because it’s so beautiful but manage to catch myself there, as well. The scenery route leads to a big mall and I already saw myself walking along the shiny corridors. Stop bullshitting yourself Premdipa, I tell myself angrily. You don’t even like slow scenery routes because you want to drive fast and overtake everyone! Obediently, I turn to the motorway.

A couple of kilometres before home I pull to a petrol station. I turn off the engine and close my eyes for a moment. I feel uncomfortable. There’s something for me to see, what is it….? Oh my God, I almost fooled myself.

I activate the pump with a credit card in order to avoid stepping into the shop. For the first time, I see this game. This is the first time I don’t go inside to pay. I like to go in because I always buy something sweet. Always.

I arrive home, exhausted. It takes a lot of energy to fight the craving. Unless I’m alert every second I will loose the battle. At home I walk straight to the fridge.

– There’s nothing for me to eat, I complain.

– There’s some lentil soup and carrot burgers, mother suggests.

She has started cooking vegetarian, dairy-free and gluten-free meals.

– Yaiks they don’t help much I want sugar! I reply, irriteted.

– Have some fruit. There’s grapes, mum suggests.

– No they are too sour, I complain.

Mum walks to me, pondering.

– What could help you now? Maybe you could drink water to fill your stomach?

– It’s totally irrelevant whether my stomach is full or not, I snap at her.

I see I would like to react on mum and go for a childish tantrum. I want to dump all these uncomfortable feelings on her. I want to get angry because that would give me the perfect excuse to say fuck-it and act out. I could easily start stuffing myself with sugar now and it would be her fault.

Don’t go there, Premdipa, don’t go there, I warn myself and take a few deep breaths. I take some grapes and start chatting about something else, my voice soft again. That was close.

Mum and dad go to my brother’s to do some garden work. I’m alone in the house. I’m writing this using mum’s desk. Mum’s Magic Cupboard is less than one meter away.

There are no M&M’s left but there’s an unopened bag of crispy mint chocolate, one box of Marabou’s chocolates and half a bag of eucalyptus drops... Interesting. How do I know this? I haven’t had any sugar in a week but there’s also a box of sugarfree chewing gum in the cupboard. Every day I put my hand in, carefully avoiding touching the sweets and grab the gum instead.

I’m playing with fire.

I think I will talk to mum about The Cupboard. So far I haven’t because I haven’t seen a solution. Sometimes in the past mum got angry at me and tried to hide the bisquits and sweets but to be honest, it was quite pathetic. I can find anything hidden in this house in no time.

At the same time, I don’t want to become too busy with my mother and why she’s stashing ice-cream “for the kids” and bisquits and sweets “for guests”. It’s nothing to do with her. If I want to act out I always find a way. Even if the house was clean all I needed to do is walk out. There’s a corner shop only 20 steps away from the front door and the petrol station is open 24/7.

Before I started writing this I wanted to go to the supermarket and buy some nuts and seeds but became paranoid: Do I really need the nuts or is this just another game? Is this a set-up so that I can glide through the long isles in the supermarket, the ice-creams on my left and the bisquits on my right? Even if I don’t act out I like to play with the fire. It’s very entertaining and gives me an adrenaline hit.

Big sigh.

This food story is endless. Actually, I feel a little bit embarrassed now. I know how it works: as long as I keep myself busy with food and sugar I don’t have space to look at anything else. Such as feelings.

La la la la la I don’t want to go there…

I’m flying to Norway for five days tomorrow and have a million things to do. I’m too busy to feel.