The serpent and the rat

Watch people who eat standing up.

I don’t mean at a social gathering, drink balanced in one hand, laughing or talking quietly to a few friends in the relaxed way some people do.

I mean at home, eating a meal they probably prepared, among their family.  They won’t be with the others.  There will be some excuse–they’re not hungry, perhaps, or they need to tidy up first, and they’ll compulsively clean and put away the dishes while everyone else enjoys their food.

Then, sometime later, they’ll take their plate in both hands, stand somewhere semi-private, and eat their meal alone.

Sometimes in the kitchen.  Sometimes they may even eat while walking (little trips to the pantry, little trips to the fridge), with one hand holding their plate of food while they barely taste the meal they cooked for their families.

This is self-care in an abusive home.

Chew efficiently, get it down fast.  Stand, so you’ll be ready to run if you have to…your reflexes are sharper that way.  Suffering years of emotional abuse has a way of whittling your psyche into the most basic and primal of instincts.

…

I always put the spent dishes on the counter if they’re still asleep and not in the sink.  If I put them in the sink they will clatter, and that will start them raging and then it starts all over again.  As soon as they get up, I fix it.

The last few bites go down like bits of plaster, my esophagus contracting around them like a snake swallowing a rodent.  

I know this is wrong.  I realize I am wrong and they are wrong and that this is not normal.  I also realize I may no longer know what any of that means or how to fix it.