My boyfriend didn’t make me eat eggs this morning. He didn’t say I was stupid or to stop being a bitch. He just said, “Ok baby. Do you want toast?”
That is not what my PTSD says he will do when I see eggs out.( It’s crazy that I have PTSD over eggs.) I can’t stand to see a runny yolk or one fried without having feelings and fears come flooding back to me.
My son’s father used to cook for me all the time. He said I couldn’t cook to save my life. Most meals he made were whatever I had in the fridge turned into a hash of some kind and covered in BBQ sauce. So, to say he cooked is a bit of a stretch.
Shortly after I found out that I was pregnant, he decided that I needed to eat more eggs. It would be better for me and the baby. I told him that I like my eggs fried hard with no runny yolk. (This detail is important) So that was the beginning of egg sandwiches every night.
At first, it was just an English muffin with a fried hard egg and cheese. It was cheap, it wasn’t bad for me and it made me think of my dad. Plus, it got him off my back about food. So I didn’t mind.
But then he started making them runny. At first, it was just once in a while. Then it was all of them. I’d gag and and he’d threaten me if I threw up he’d made me eat everything I threw up. 1 sandwich became 2, sometimes 3. I wasn’t allowed to eat anything else. He said they were better for the baby that way, and he’d force me to eat it.
I lost 30lbs in the first 3 months of being pregnant. He controlled everything. What I ate, what I drank, what I wore, who I talked to, if i went to work. And it all began with runny eggs.
But this morning I sat at my table with my son and my boyfriend. I had my toast and sausage links and thought about the difference 5 years has made. I’m loved, safe, I have a beautiful family and a beautiful home. But even after all that time, I still hate eggs.
ladycharade 