Follow by Email

Tuesday, July 22, 2014


I have been told by my teenage daughter that it is next to impossible to eat unhealthfully in our house.  I was actually kind of relieved as I  have made a concerted effort to cut the crap from our diets.  Except of course for the massive amounts of wine I take my Xanax with.  And the chocolate about once a month.  Those are actually survival needs.

Mostly for my family.  Ahem.

So...cutting the crap from our diets.  Yes.  My fears about the Dukan diet were totally founded.  I did put some of the weight I lost back on once I started to eat grains again.  It pains me to admit that.  I worked so hard.  Re-introducing grains was my undoing.  I am like a toddler.  I need the rules and limits.  If you let me take an inch, I will try for the mile.  Especially when it comes to sweets made with lovely bleached white flour and high fructose corn syrup.  Two of the devil's inventions.  Along with eggs and coconuts, but for different reasons.

Really, do I need grains in my diet?  My research has pointed me slightly in the direction of no.  The response my body has to them tells me no.  Yet...the opiate like effects on my brain continues.  Plus, it is so much quicker to just grab something grain based and to go.

I hear all about prepping veggies before hand.  Into little baggies.  Salad in mason jars with the dressing in the bottom.   Precooking chicken and steaks to have to grab.  All little things I could do to eat better and make it easier to make healthy food choices.

I have started to work at a private practice part time.  In essence, I am now working 7 days a week.  In the long run, it will be worth it.  I will be happier.  In the short term...I no longer have the time to do the crazy insane shit I used to like make home made bread and granola and to experiment with quinoa flour.  To pre-prep veggies and fruit to have readily available.

So in the short term, my health is going to suffer. It pisses me off that this is the case.  I can't do it all.  I take care of everyone but me.  Business as usual.

Physician, heal thyself.

Right?  Easier said than done.  I preach day in and day out self care to my clients.  The importance of taking care of your physical health as well as the mental health.  Granted I still am running.  I still take my meds.  I still have the MHPMHD's.

I can't do it all.  And it bugs me that I feel like I have to try.  And it bugs me that this is the thing that has slipped, and that this is the thing that bugs me.  It feels like self sabotage almost, along with internalized fat hatred.  Like I am afraid of feeling good or looking good.  Because if I am feeling good, then I am not working hard enough.  If I am looking good, I have to deal with the male gaze.  How's that for rape culture speaking for me?

When the fuck did I develop this complex?  When did wearing the horsehair shirt become my thing?  I feel like those monks on Monty Python sometimes.  I keep expecting someone to accuse me of turning them into a newt.

(If you don't get that, I am not sure I want you reading my blog.)

Seriously, if you don't know what I am talking about...just go watch the movie.  It's pretty sad when I can say I have seen a movie.  Because I don't watch them usually.  I haven't even seen National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, which apparently in this country is akin to admitting that the English had every right to fight the Revolutionary War because they were the ones being wronged.

Maybe I've turned myself into the newt.  I can't say yet that it got better.  It's still a work in progress.

No comments:

Post a Comment