My Mom Never Taught Me to Cook
I have bipolar disorder. I'm 50 pounds overweight from psych meds. Thanks to that extra weight, I have high blood pressure, high cholesterol and diabetes.
If my mother had taught me to cook (she was a very good plain cook), I might have come to enjoy cooking and know how to make nutritious, low fat, low calorie meals. Wouldn't that be great?
But instead I find cooking a bore and a waste of time. Add to that the bipolar disorder which is the reason for the damned psych meds, and now my weight has been creeping up, not down. Between 2007 and 2008 I lost almost 35 pounds - but when the weight loss began, I was in a good mental state, and the eating habits hung on for some time after my mood soured.
Eventually stress became so great that I didn't care what I ate or when. I don't want to eat - now not only does cooking seem like a waste of time but so does eating. It means I want to open the refrigerator and grab something I can eat with no preparation time at all. That means there are days when all I have is four or five bottled Frappucinos.
When I lost all that weight a few years ago, I ate the same breakfast and dinner every day and my biggest meal was lunch, which varied. I allowed myself one Frappucino in mid-afternoon. Now, as I said, I can live on Frappucino.
My health is deteriorating. My mood is not dreadful, but it's consistently low. If I'd learned to cook, if I enjoyed cooking, bipolar depression wouldn't be such a bar to eating the way I need to eat.
And now, with getting my blood pressure and cholesterol under control more important than ever, the fact that I'm not doing what I should be doing with my diet just makes me feel guilty, more depressed, and even less able to take better care of myself.