As a child, I found great comfort in sucking the second and third fingers of my left hand. Plus biting my fingernails. Something I finally gave up, mostly, in my late twenties. Though sometimes I still have dreams where I'm getting one juicy corner of one of my nails bent back and going and that sweet pain-pleasure sensation is so intense... and then I wake up, and have to check to make sure I haven't gnawed my nails to the quick in my sleep. So far, I never have. Phew!
As an adult, I found much (temporary) comfort in placing large quantities of food into my mouth. Later I always felt guilty, ashamed, fat, horrible.
And of course, most ( if not all) my boyfriends over the last umpteen years have been delighted to provide their own food/finger substitutes.
I realized, some years back, that I was not the only person on the planet who felt these things. Somewhere along the way in my research as a writer, I came across a description of a character who, at the moment of truth, has her lover pop into her mouth one of a string of pacifiers she had collected, attached on a string to the headboard of her bed, which intensifies her experience.
So my first thought was, wow, what a unique and vivid character description!
My second was, where can I get some of those pacifiers? (Because regular baby pacifiers don't have the same soothing effect in an adult-sized mouth, they're not long enough to hit the right nerve endings on the tongue.)
|This is a Fossa, a critter from Madagascar.|
Kind of like a cougar, kind of like a lemur,
they're tree-climbing predators.
Photo via Wikipedia Commons.
This one intrigued me. And I thought, perhaps if I could find an oral substitute, I could spend less time filling my mouth with things that weren't healthy for me, in more ways than one, and instead concentrate on filling my life with things that make me happy.
So I went online and searched, and found... tons of scary freaky stuff. I found an online store that sells pacifiers sized for an adult mouth (don't ask what else they sell, I didn't save the link,) and somewhere along the line I found these plastic spoons. Designed for peops like me, and those quitting smoking, whatever, who want to stick something in their mouths that isn't food, gum, or tobacco.
I bought two of them, and used them whenever I felt the need - usually at home, occasionally at work. Then, after I was with OCPD ex b-f, I sometimes used them at home when writing, or stressed. He thought they were stupid. He wanted to offer me something else, anytime I felt the need to fill my mouth with not-food. So I packed 'em away as yet another thing I couldn't do/enjoy while I was with him.
But I rediscovered my spoon, last night, and have been enjoying it. You see, I've been working on the concept of "Intuitive Eating." Not dieting, not depriving myself of any foods I enjoy, but learning to recognize and eat when I'm truly hungry, and not just mindlessly stuff food in my mouth the minute that thought enters my brain.
Not that I'm very far along on the path.
But I felt, last night, after dinner, the compulsion to eat some kind of dessert. What? Why?
Trying to be mindful and examine what my body actually felt, I realized, I wasn't hungry. I wasn't thirsty (I drink gallons of water throughout the day, and had plenty with dinner, so that wasn't the issue.) I simply wanted the mouth-feel of having something in my mouth. The old, less aware me would have just... eaten more food. Though I was already physically full. Borderline uncomfortably so.
I haven't figured out, yet, why I wanted/needed the comfort of my soft plastic spoon. But I was glad I hadn't thrown it away, after all, and am utilizing it this very moment. And very happy I hadn't just stuffed my face with whatever comfort foods I could find, simply for that oral sensation of rolling something around in my mouth, over my tongue.
You might be reading this and think, yuck! You might think of me as a Fossa type of creature - interesting to observe, perhaps, but not something you can relate to, any more than I can relate to women who choose three inch stilettos to walk around the zoo. That's okay. What makes sense to My True Self doesn't have to make sense to Your True Self. And vice versa.
But for those dying to get a spoon thingie like mine... I did search online, so I could give a link where you could buy your own plastic spoon-thingie, but couldn't find 'em. So, if you want your own, you'll have to do your own search. (I suggest that you do not search on your work computer; these sites may give your boss a very twisted idea of who you are, maybe even violate company porn policies.)
Despite Blogger not wanting to post this last night,
I don't think this post is porn, or overly salacious. Do you?
Comments welcomed, below.