Yesterday…. Yesterday should have been awesome.

I was out with two of my best friends – my mom and little sister. We were all getting facials and my mom a massage from a pricy place downtown.

– Jason won a voucher from a wellness fair and that paid for mom’s services. The little sister was gracious enough to foot the bill for me as I’d never spend $100 on a facial… But I digress.

The salon was okay, despite their repeated instance of trying to put us in robes and trying to guilt us into buying overpriced cosmetics. But I guess that’s to be expected.

During this time, we were escorted into different rooms and didn’t have a lot of time to chat. That came at lunch.

— Which I nearly completely freaked out about.

We went to a, again, upscale ice cream/restaurant. The building is over 100 years old and some place we haven’t been to in over five years. Honestly, it should have been a real treat and the lunches were far more reasonable than I would have expected.

But they didn’t have a salad entree. A side salad, but not a meal salad.

Mom ordered a sloppy joe sort of concoction. Little sister had a turkey bacon club on Texas toast. And I… well… started to panic. I shouldn’t have. I know I shouldn’t have, but I did.

It was so intense that I had to step away for a minute… and I did. I got “lost” going to the bathroom. And I hated it because I wanted to spend time with the others and became fearful that they would start gossiping about me.

I was trying to make internal peace with my decision – the turkey sandwich – despite the bread and bacon, I was going to do it. I was going to be a big girl.

But I found the waitress and asked her, just by chance, if the Texas toast bread was buttered.

Of course it was.
And that sent me into another spasm of panic.

I begged the waitress to have the sandwich made sans butter and she said she’d try as the order had already been submitted.

I returned to the table and half listened while continually scanning the menu. Then, mom pointed out that the chicken tenders could have — grilled.

HOLY CRAP.
I completely missed that and off I was again to find the waitress. I begged to completely change my order. She agreed, but the place was slammed with a lunch rush and said it would ‘be a minute.’

I readily agreed although I knew the hour we had allocated for lunch was running out. And, if mom and little sister wasn’t talking about be me before, I was certain they were now given how quickly I ran off to find the waitress.

Finally… FINALLY… I quickly ate the grilled chicken tenders. Had the fries to go, claiming that I wouldn’t have time to eat them — which was true. We really had to go. And off we went back to the salon.

This entire time I hated myself.

I hated that I didn’t spend more time with my mom and sister. I hated that I kept bothering the well-meaning server. I hated that I couldn’t bring myself to eat a turkey sandwich. I hated that (I thought) they where talking about me. I hated that I worried them and was just reinforcing whatever doubts and insecurities they have about me.

Most of all, I hated myself. For my weakness, my panic, my complete and total inability.

But… If I would have had the turkey sandwich, Texas toast and all…. I would have felt the need to punish myself. I wouldn’t have ate anything today or the rest of the evening. Which, fortunately, didn’t happen.

And I hate that too.
It shouldn’t be an either-or. It shouldn’t be an all or nothing. I shouldn’t self-penalize for enjoying time with those I love or panic over lunch.

I realize all of this.

But I can’t seem to overcome it.

I think I hate myself for that most of all.