Party of Awk-ward

I had another eating. . .thing.

My hubs and I were invited to a party – I suppose some of my food issues had been made known since I was asked if I could eat stuff. I mean, everything was so sweetly done. Come to our house! Come have fun! Come eat! Drink! Family! Yes!

As much as I stand on the platform of, "I hate fun" I actually do enjoy myself a spirited get together. And booze. Anyhow, what could be better for someone than a party?!

Oh right. . . I'm the odd chick who doesn't eat food. The odd woman who is just odd, eating food she can't be happy eating - veggies and fruits. Who knows what's really wrong with her - psychology.

Here are a couple things I learned about myself – or have farther proof about.

I’m Incredibly Awkward
When a glass of homemade sangria was placed in front of me. You know, nice red wine with lovely bits of fruit floating around. It's the ultimate summer drink. Ultimate pool party summer drink. I love sangria. All around, compliments were flying about the sangria.

I totally had to look around to assess the situation. Danger lurks at every turn! I can't drink wine or anything fermented (you know, beer) because yeast is used and I cannot have yeast. Wine is one of the big no-nos. Beer is like a double no-no, by the way.

What is going through my head? If I refuse, the host will be offended. Or someone will think I am pregnant because I’m not drinking. Ultimately, I drank some (yes, totally felt the pockets of swelling under my ribs) and quickly changed my husband’s empty glass with my full glass.

It was refilled.

@#$%

If I said, "I can't drink wine" I would be offered beer.

Then I would say, "I can drink beer, but, I'm really ok with water." Then I would be offered ice tea. Well, I don't actually really like ice tea. . .but, then I feel forced to choke it down because water is not acceptable to drink and be happy with.

Maybe I would be offered vodka - but I should only have vodka that is not wheat based. Haha. AWKWARD DEMANDS!

To the outside world, I can't be happy drinking water. I was so happy drinking water. Of course, it was the tiny bottles of water, so, I had quite a collection in about 2 seconds.

And I felt mortified.

I Do This to Myself
When dinner was served – in the sexy buffet style of joy –  Let me just back up a bit - there was BBQ chicken, BBQ ribs, sausage skewers, corn, Spanish style rice - who knows what else! It smelled awesome. I looked awesome. BBQ ribs - and anything BBQ was always a favorite.

But condiments have yeast and pepper and canola oil and tons of things I cannot eat. I had to say goodbye to this way of eating three years ago.

One of the hosts was standing there and must have known some of my issues because it was asked, “You can eat things right? You like rice? And chicken?”

I laughed and said, “Yes!”

Meaning – Nope. And even if I think I might, I am not putting one bit if this food loving made in the scorching heat as a sign of love and family into my mouth. I'm not doing it. I'm already on medication for my adrenals which will impact my digestion, adding these foods to it will result in months of agony.

“Did you have enough to eat?”

“Of course! I’m stuffed. Yes!” By the way, this was not a lie. I was in front of the strawberries and ate a lot of them, almost all of them. And, yes, I also felt bad because I wasn't leaving enough for other people. I also committed a sin and ate some tortia chips. Even "corn chips" can be made with wheat, which I cannot have.

And. .ultimately. . what I did was teach the world around me that wants me to eat their food everything was ok for me to eat when it wasn't because I don't know how to speak for myself in these situations. My nerves take over, my fears, my insecurities, my doubts.

I Need Practice
I need some type of workshop session with someone smarter than me to help me come up with polite and eloquent ways to refuse food and drink without looking like I’m pregnant, have an eating disorder, am rude or am high-maintenance.

I want it not to be a completion either. People who do know my sensitivities frequently will shove something at me telling me to try it, eat it. . .I can eat it! It feels like my dietary restrictions are a game – but the only who pays for someone’s misstep is me.

I don’t know what is being thrown at me. I don’t want it. I don’t want to eat food when I don’t know what’s in it.

And you all – yeah, ya’ll – don’t even know what you put in your food. Broth has yeast, wine has yeast, combined seasoning has pepper. Yogurt is dairy. Hummus is beans. Even when people think they know - they don't know.

It has taken me three years to understand this situation my body is in – why do you think you can master it in one meal? And why would I ever trust you?

To this day, I never speak of the 15 years I lost to illness. While I grapple with these effects, they seems less "real" because almost half of my life has been treated like a dark secret. No one wants to hear about it, few people ever believed it - and I was told not to talk about it or else those treatment me might come under legal action.

I need some way of being able to confidently talk about it and understand if people don't believe me - or think I am rude - I have to look out for myself or I will do serious long-term damage to myself that I have to deal with.

And how do I come off talking about it and not sounding crazy or aggressive or mean or. . .you know. .mean.

I prefer not to eat foods I cannot identify or did not buy and make on my own. Unless they are raw fruits and veggies.