Don’t make me hangry. You won’t like me when I’m hangry.
In the case that you have not heard the term here is a simple definition that I found from Merriam-Webster.
easily angered because of hunger
This simple definition pales in experience to the powerful force of emotions that is HANGER.
I do not think that it is an exaggeration to say that avoiding my becoming over hungry is in my boyfriend’s top 3 main concerns every single day. He is very sweet and does not want to witness (ahem fall victim to) the symptoms of my famishment.
My version of “hangry” is less fury and more of a stupid panic.
I panic that I am not going to find anything to eat that I both like and fits into the dietary restrictions that I comply with (gluten free.)
Sirens wailing like I do not live in an environment that has food everywhere.
Complete distress and agitation because everyone and everything is conspiring in opposition of my obtaining sustenance. I do not understand why they are all against me.
This is America… Los Angeles…
there will be something.
Yes. A simple mantra that I can think and apply at the beginning stages of hunger. But when I start to move past that line into deprivation. Pure pandemonium.
There is no logic in deep hungriness.
And suddenly I am completely incapable of making decisions. Any decision at all.
Do not, I repeat, DO NOT give me a menu when I have moved past hungry. A menu is no longer a list of options. It is a jumble of junk and scramble of letters that exists only to make my life more complicated and terrifying.
Let me get back to the boyfriend who takes such amazing care of me… Luckily we have been able to build up a system of communication and rules regarding the topic.
They are as follows, in no particular order:
1. Do not ask me if I am hangry.
I know that you are asking because you love me. I understand that you want to assess the level of hunger so that you can choose your next steps, but when on the verge of hanger, “Are you hangry?” is going to send me SOARING past the line straight to crazy territory.
2. If I tell you that I am hangry, NO QUESTIONS.
There is no more conversation. All that needs to be done is get food in front of me.
3. I actually have to speak, even if it is difficult, so that he knows what I need.
I have been able to develop/apply a skill even in the throes of panic that is my hunger. I say, “I am beyond being able to make decisions.” This means that I need my lover pants to make my food decisions for me. (This includes when a host takes us to the table and asks, “Is this okay?” and he knows what constitutes “okay” for me in such a state.)
4. I need routine.
If we go out to a restaurant where we have a regular seat/area… I am definitely going to want to sit in said area. The hungrier I am, the more important this is.
**I warned my biscuit that I was high maintenance long before we started dating. His response was, “I like that.” So keep any sympathies for him to yourself. He knew what he was getting himself into.
I kinda need to go eat something now… preventative care.
In short what I am trying to say is this:
There is a certain level at which my appetite takes the reigns and I am no longer “The Decision Maker” I become “The Incapable of Resolution”… but get me some foodie, wait like 15 minutes… as my blood sugar rises… then I am in the best mood ever!
Life is beautiful! The Universe is kind! Thank the Lord!
Food, I love you.
Biscuit, I love you the mostest. Thank you for all of it.
mmmm... a biscuit sounds really good right now...