The Brownie Question

Nearly every day for the last year, my student assistant has come into my office and we have had this routine conversation:

"Hey, M. I'm running to the Campus Center to grab food/coffee/cookie (insert her craving of the moment). Want me to bring you back a peanut butter brownie?"

There was a moment in time, pre-ED, during which I ate peanut butter brownies from the Campus Center a few times a week. I hired my student assistant just before I start really restricting my diet (about a year ago) but she has never forgotten that I, at one point in time, loved those brownies. Ironically, her Brownie Question has remained a constant throughout this year as I went down the anorexia path, and, much to my dismay, she never stopped asking that question even after receiving my "no thanks" reply (literally) hundreds of times.

At times, my thought process when presented with the Brownie Question acted almost as a measurement of my sickness. While I typically said no, there were variations of my internal response, and, looking back, they became almost indicative of my mental state. Here is a random sample:

"No, thank you." (The thought of eating that is positively revloting and I'd have to go run 20 miles to burn it off later, which I don't have the time or energy to do).

"No, thank you." (I am a robot who only consumes raw vegetables...)

"Hmmm....What did you say? Um...." (I'm not even hearing you right now...I'm about to pass out because I haven't had a meal in four days. And please get out of my office because I need to go purge the three raw carrots I just "gave in" and ate)

"Yes! I will have a peanut butter brownie!" (Because I am craving the flavor of one of those pieces of heaven so desperately, but I swear I will throw it up immediately.)

"No, thank you." (Even though my metabolism has finally come alive and I would eat a whole pan of those damn things except I don't have the mental strength to not purge them, and purging is not an option because my esophagus is mangled and destroyed from months and months of repeated vomiting.)

Today, however, when my student assistant sent me an IM stating "Hey, M., going to Campus Center, be right back", I sat and waited for the Brownie Question. It never came. And I thought to myself: Huh...I really wanted a peanut butter brownie today...what's up with that?

I genuinely wanted a peanut butter brownie today. No strings attached. No vow to purge or justifying it with this evening's workout.

The one day I finally decide I will eat a peanut butter brownie, and my student assistant does not pop the question .What the hell.

I had to laugh a little at the irony of the situation. But when I really started to think about it, it hit me just how far I have come. I really, truly, wanted that brownie. Another sign of progress, another subtle indicator that I am winning after all.

Related to winning (and given my love of sharing Dr. Joe stories), I have to recap the email exchange that occured between Dr. Joe and I today.

There have been times in the past in which I have left Dr. Joe's office in a worse depression than when I had arrived. Those days, generally, did not lead to positive outcomes, as I have a hard time just "putting it a lid on it" once we have opened up a can of emotional worms. With time, Dr. Joe has learned to wrap up my sessions with a conversation topic that tends to perk me up a bit: sports/running/competition. While the topic of choice varies slightly, we typically end up talking about running because it is of great interest to both of us.

Yesterday, Dr. Joe asked me how on earth I have been able to not only maintain, but increase my weekly mileage during the winter. I just kind of shrugged. It doesn't seem like a big deal to me that I run in the cold or snow. And Dr. Joe was, in his heyday, a far more serious runner than I currently am. Surely he had to have run through winters back in the day (ok, waaaaaay back in the day...he claims to be old, remember?).

"I don't know. I've just been running in the snow," I replied.

Dr. Joe: "Did you run last weekend?"

Me: "Yes, on trails. I was out for about three hours on Saturday." Now, here was my mistake...I got my days mixed up. I was actually teaching at the gym on Saturday, but had run trails in the snow on Sunday.

He chuckled. "Oh, well, then, Saturday wasn't too bad out."

I'm sure I looked puzzled. No...my run had, actually, been a slightly insane. I had run for three hours in the snow. On trails. In the cold. It wasn't totally extreme, but it really couldn't be described as "not too bad" by someone who apparently does not like to run in the winter.

On the way home, it hit me...Saturday's weather was nice. But I hadn't been out on Saturday. My long, snowy trail run had been on Sunday.

Ever the competitor (and always seeking out opportunities for amusing email exchanges with Dr. Joe), I couldn't have Dr. Joe thinking I believed Saturday's weather was treacherous. It was mild. Plus, Dr. Joe finds my follow-up emails entertaining. So when I got home, I emailed him the following:

Dr. Joe- I misspoke! I was out on SUNDAY not on Saturday running trails...for three hours...in the snow...See?! I'm a lot tougher than you think I am! (I had to make mention of being "tougher than he thinks I am", as the man has continued to seriously doubt my ability to run a 50K this year. While probably a psychological tactic, his doubting irks me and gets under my skin).

This email was also in an effort to passive-agressively harass Dr. Joe for being a fairweather runner and taking the winters off.

For the most part, Dr. Joe responds very quickly to me, even when the content is not therapy-related. He often jumps on an opportunity to tease me or interject one of his ridiculous quotes. But today came and went, and I did not receive a response from Dr. Joe.

A few hours ago, I decided to continue the harassment. I wrote back Aw, come on, Dr. Joe...you're not even going to humor me on that one?!

Immediately, I received a response:

Correct, M. I was not going to humor you and reinforce such behavior... (followed by a smiley face). -Dr. Joe

God love Dr. Joe. I can almost picture him shaking his head (as he often does), laughing to himself, and wondering how the hell he ended up with such a difficult client who keeps pushing the boundaries, sending him provoking emails, and talking at a pace he cannot comprehend.

I'll make sure to let you all know when I eat a peanut butter brownie. My student assistant has tomorrow off, so the next opportunity I will have to answer the Brownie Question will be on Monday...after LA and I have had cupcakes together during my regular morning appointment.

Two desserts on Monday? Hmmm...maybe.