Nutrition – Scary Soup
Sarah and I sat across from each other at the dining room table, each with a white ceramic bowl, a glass of water and a perfect place setting in front of us. We were having mushroom barley soup. Sarah was entering a new phase of treatment for her eating disorder. She knew that her ability to eat more and gain weight would determine whether she would spend her summer with her friends or in a residential treatment program. There was a lot riding on that bowl of soup.
We kept our conversation somewhat light hearted, despite the somber mood. I was keenly aware of Sarah’s pace while she ate, being sure not to ask her too many questions, which might slow her down even more. I watched as she repeatedly dipped the tip of her spoon into the soup, grabbing a few grains of barley each time. This half a spoonful she would then bring to her lips and sip, two or three times, until all that was left was the barley and some vegetables, which she forced into her mouth only at the last possible second. Every bite was like this, timid, drawn out, tortuous.
After 30 minutes, Sarah was just barely a quarter of the way done with her bowl of soup. I tapped my wrist, our signal that our 45 minutes were almost up, and my heart sank as her face registered the disappointment and agony that she was feeling. After that, her spoonfuls got a little bigger and she ate them in two sips instead of three.
After 45 minutes I asked Sarah how she was feeling. “Really full,” she replied, “nauseous.” She told me that if she ate another bite she thought she might explode. I tested her on that, asked her to take one more bite, which she did. No explosions. I dug a little deeper. What did she think it would be like to take bigger spoonfuls and eat them in one bite? She was brutally honest with me, “If I take bigger bites, I will end up eating more of it.” I asked what would happen if she ate more of it? Sarah told me that she had no idea how many calories were in the soup and that made it scary.
We continued to talk about this for a while, why mushroom barley soup was scary. Five minutes before our session was over, I asked Sarah again how she was feeling, was she still nauseous? She took a deep breath and thought for a few seconds. “Actually no, I’m feeling better,” but she told me that she worried that everyone would be angry that she couldn’t finish and was terrified that she might have to go to the hospital. “You accomplished some things today,” I pointed out, bringing her back to the present moment, “you ate something new tonight and practiced taking bigger bites. What else?” She added, “well, my stomach doesn’t feel so full anymore. I can probably eat more next time.”
Next time.
During this meal I worried every step of the way. Should I have forced her to eat everything, even if it took two hours? I realized that this young woman did not need more pressure from me. Sarah’s problem was not that she was afraid of soup. Rather, she had poured all of her fears, anxieties, and doubts into that bowl with her soup. She was literally eating her fear. No wonder she felt sick. The only thing I could do was provide her with some boundaries so she felt safe, encouragement so she could try something new and an opportunity to, even if for a moment, tease apart her feelings from her food. She had a long, difficult, and scary road ahead of her but she was facing at least one of her fears. She would be back next time for more mushroom barley soup.
Related Articles:
Category: Nutrition
Subscribe
If you enjoyed this article, subscribe to receive more just like it.
