Well day two is coming to a close, and I'm pretty much where I was yesterday. I was fine all morning, got peckish around lunch and gulped a bottle of water, and by this point I'm basically famished.
Went to Mom's house to visit, and was immediately drawn to the bubbling pot of awesome-sauce and meatballs, over which I stuck my face and deeply inhaled the aroma for about five minutes. It was both relieving and torturous. Same thing happened when I got to Dad's house- sizzling onion tart and salad smells caused me to retreat into my room. I could smell, separately, the salad leaves, olive oil, vinegar and black pepper (not the salt though... I guess salt doesn't have a smell). My sense of smell does seem to be heightened, and not just regarding food. I can smell the soap from the shower I just took on my arms as I type, and I put my hair behind my ears because it smelled very shampoo-y hanging in front of my face. Also the heater in my car bothered me today because it smelled so strongly (though I'm sure it was no smellier than usual).
I did eat a couple pieces of sugar-free melon-something-or-other gum today, and the taste was more sweet and intense than usual. But I could also taste the artificial sweetener, which was kind of weird. I guess I never thought about that before. Maybe when the fast is over I'll have an extraordinary palate, and can describe things' bouquets and essences :) The gum was a relief too, because it kind of tricked me into thinking I was eating something, what with the chewing and swallowing. Not sure if I'm "supposed" to chew gum, but whatever. It's not eating, so it's good in my book.
I think part of this difficulty with hunger is a sense of feeling a bit sorry for myself. I was fine emotionally until I got home, and even then I was okay until people sat down and started eating. Then I got a little pouty-lipped and went upstairs, and still feel a little lonely. I'm sure, though, that part of that feeling comes from living with someone and being around them all the time, then not being around them at all. Just something to get used to. I've also got a cough that sort of chokes me until I swig water. So I'm sitting here with cold feet and a coughy throat and no Micah, smelling the food I'm not eating and being a little bit bummed.
Of course there's the stereotype of eating when you're depressed, but it makes sense to have the urge to fill yourself up when you don't feel well. So as an attempt to satisfy this desire to do something for myself, I went to Target. The smell of buttery popcorn hit me like a truck as I walked through the automatic doors, but the women's section was far enough away from said corn for me to just barely be able to smell it. I got myself a really cute black and white striped sweater, if you must know, and got in the car feeling like I didn't want to go home because I knew there'd be cooking going on and ice water for me. I even took the long way home. Silly, no? But now I'm here, and they're done eating, and watching a British-sounding movie downstairs, so off I go.
Also, I've lost seven pounds since midnight on Friday, so I guess I could try to be more optimistic.
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