Sitting still is challenging. It is like a torture to me. I feel physical pain wandering through my veins, through my whole body. I do my best to glue myself into the chair. That was the agreement. My husband cooks and I do not intervene. My task for this evening is to sit and eat the meal he prepares. It is not an easy one though. I nervously move from time to time. I adjust my position, I stretch. Up and down, forward, backwards. My mind gets cloudy again. I experience this state multiple times during the day.
I keep a book in my hands and try to focus on the story. I realise that I need to read the same sentence twice. There is this voice in my head. I cannot get rid of it. It is so loud. Get up! This poor guy was working the whole day and now he is cooking? You are on sick leave from work! You have nothing better to do! You can cook! You have no serious responsibilities! He is running around, multitasking. You have no conscience! Get up, get up, get up. I squeeze my legs, I fight. I force myself to sink deeper into the chair. I breathe.
Suddenly a different voice breaks through. This one tells me to calm down. It assures me that everything is fine, that my husband is capable of cooking a dinner for us. We can take turns. There is a time when I cook and there is a time when he cooks. We have both discussed and agreed on this.
My internal battle almost makes me dizzy. I keep breathing. Ollie’s voice brings me to reality. 15 min, everything is under control he says. I look at him and smile under my nose. I feel better. I relax just a bit, but I know that there is another challenge ahead of me - risotto! Rice, parmesan, butter. No control over the quantities of ingredients, calories and the portion size. I decide to pause and not think about it anymore. I come back to breathing. I am ready for the next fight. Risotto, here I come!