WE ARE WHAT WE EAT

My computer is running so slowly that I have doubts this blog will ever get published. If you're reading this then I suppose the internet gods have been good to me. Take warning: my thoughts are scattered and I have so many feelings that this blog may be all over the map.

Ladies and gentlemen, we are going to talk about food.

Sitting in front of me is a book that I followed for a total of 12 hours before ordering Round Table Pizza (back in 2008). The book is "The Master Cleanser" and it contains the work of Stanley Burroughs (who sounds like quite the quack).
It's staring me down. It's taunting and tempting me. Why do I feel like cleansing again? (This time perhaps for longer than 12 hours before failing miserably...)

I have an unhealthy relationship with food and I have had this relationship my whole life. Like most unhealthy relationships, sometimes it is hard to get out despite your best efforts. At times I feel like I'm trying to break up with an abusive boyfriend. I mean, food makes me feel good... some of the time. Food also makes me feel a lot of other things - sad, grumpy, tired, fat, bloated, angry. Yeah, I said angry. I have to give myself a little credit though, because admitting the problem is the first step to recovery. I've also come a long way from where I was and I have started to admit that I like some vegetables. Let me start from the beginning.

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Nichole. She was a fat kid with asthma and a heart condition whose evil mother wouldn't let her do any type of physical activity. She was a cutie - blonde with freckles and a round little squishy body. She wanted to be a cheerleader but her mother said she was too fat. She wanted to play soccer but her mother said she was too fat. So poor little fat Nichole just ate...

Okay so thats just the bad stuff but seriously, I was significantly overweight as a child. I was made fun of by my peers. I couldn't wear normal clothes like all of my friends. This was largely due to my inactivity and to the way that I ate. Growing up I don't remember vegetables or fruits being a large part of my diet. I'm sure I ate them; things like broccoli dipped in mayo, apple slices dipped in caramel, etc. I had frozen burritos with half a container of sour cream, mayo sandwiches on white bread, regular dinners of Little Caesars pizza and crazy bread, Ramen noodles, crackers with cream cheese... Despite my best efforts to remember some sort of positive eating, I cant.

When I started going through puberty things were even worse for me. First of all I started puberty really early, developing breasts when I was in third grade and then starting my period when I was 12. I started getting curves and boobs and my already large body began to twist and change yet stay big. I was made fun of a lot in elementary school. My mom decided this was when I should start going on "diets". When I was 12 she put me on a fad diet of the 90's, which involved counting fat grams. You couldn't eat more than 25 fat grams a day (yes, here I am 17 years later and I remember the exact fucking number of fat grams I couldn't go above). She put me in a leotard and took me along with her to Jazzercise. I was mortified. She constantly harassed me about what I ate. It's surprising that even though I had a 25 g of fat limit, I still didn't eat fruits and vegetables. This is when all the "diet" foods were stocked in our house - fat free popcorn, fat free desserts, fat free yogurts, etc. Everything was FAT FREE or LOW FAT, but that didn't mean it was healthy (which I will get into later). Did this diet work? Sure. I lost 30 pounds and went down to 120 pounds on my 5'3" frame. It was a good change and I was finally feeling like I fit in, right before my teenage years.

Junior high was good to me - I was able to exercise in PE. In elementary school my mom signed notes prohibiting me from exercise, but at 12 my cardiologist signed the ALL CLEAR for my heart and that gave my mom a little comfort. I stayed in the 120 pound range until mid way through high school. Did my eating get any healthier? Nope. I still ate tons of low fat/fat free commercially made crap. Fruits and vegetables were foreign options for me.

Junior year I started to gain weight. I fluctuated between 120 and 140 pounds until I graduated at close to 150 pounds. I went on the depo shot for birth control and rapidly gained  and went up to 180 pounds. I went to the gym, I did my "25 grams of fat" diet and could not drop a single pound. The doctors sent me to nutritionists because they didn't believe I was actually trying to lose weight. I ate like the nutritionist said - cereal for breakfast, non fat milk, boneless/skinless chicken, etc. I couldn't drop any weight. I became depressed and eventually ballooned up to 190 pounds. Around this time my boyfriend at the time lost his job and we moved in with my mom. She knew how unhappy I was so she put me on a diet. This time I went on Weight Watchers.

Weight Watchers. Points. Counting and counting and counting. It was hell but it was so similar to the "25 fat grams" diet because I ate the same types of food, but this time they were calculated differently. Kashi cereal, chicken, broccoli (with fat free mayo), crackers, etc. I drank a lot of diet sodas. The only positive is I started walking on the treadmill and eventually I did lose weight. I dropped down to 150 pounds and my mom took me shopping. I will never forget the comment she made to me in the dressing room.… I had picked up a black, cotton, strapless dress. It had a cute little burgundy rope belt. It was a size 14, which was smaller than I had worn since high school. Anyhow, I tried the dress on and though "man, I look really good!" I was so proud of myself! I looked at my mom and asked what she thought. Her reply, "Well you still look big.…" What? I still look big? Thats how you tell your kid what you think of their dress? *sigh*

2007: After the birth of my daughter and death of my father in 2006, my mom gifts me with her leftover Nutrisystem for my 23rd birthday.
2008: My mother buys me memberships to Weight Watchers.
2009: 90% Raw/Vegan to help with my (undiagnosed at the time) IBS
2010: My mother gifts me with membership to Jenny Craig

And here I am. I continue to punish myself for any "bad" food that I eat. I weigh 172 on a good day, coming from once weighing 253 pounds at my highest. I know i'm doing okay because I'm "healthy" - no high blood pressure, no diabetes, no longer feeling joint pain. But somehow I still feel trapped in a fat body and it makes me crazy. I was losing weight steadily (without really trying) for about a year and then it stopped. I want to blame it on stress or blame it on carbs or blame it on Satan. I don't know really. Mostly I blame it on myself, because thats the right thing to do. I live in a constant state of punishment, and thats what I'm trying to change.

But what's the RIGHT WAY to eat? Where is my path to enlightened eating?! If only it were easy! There are so many opinions on what the "correct way" is - Veganism, Paleo, Raw, South Beach, Weight Watchers, Keto, Atkins, "healthy and balanced", etc etc etc. It makes your head spin. One diet banishes fruit, one diet banishes carbs. Paleo says eat like a cave man, but veganism says eat no meat. All of these "diets" and ways of eating have strong points. Some are just full of bullshit. Fads vs way of life. How do you decide? This is my problem. I want to lose weight - do I cut carbs? Cut meat? Eat all meat? Go into an unhealthy state of ketosis and kill my fat? Go 100% raw and eat "raw chili (aka salsa)" for dinner? My brain is so trained on fad diets that I'm constantly mentally whipping myself for every piece of bread I eat or every avocado I decide to indulge in. Fat is good, fat is bad. Carbs are the devil. On top of this my IBS is out of control and because of that I'm punishing myself for pretty much anything I put in my body because everything makes my stomach hurt. I know that its stress that makes me feel that, but I still blame it on the food and therefore blame it on myself. The only thing I pride myself in is drinking probiotic beverages regularly. Aside from that I cant seem to take vitamins on a regular basis, let alone remember to eat the right things every day. *sigh again*

So that brings me back to Mr Stanley Burroughs and his Lemonade Diet. Yes, its another fad, but it's a fad that makes sense to me. You see, despite my wrecked diet induced brain, I know that we are what we eat. Thats the bottom line. WE ARE WHAT WE EAT. We live in a world of convenience and convenience foods. We no longer reach for healthy food to fuel our bodies, we reach for the things that are easy. I do believe we are not meant to eat so many of these processed foods - crackers, chips, etc. America as a whole is getting fatter. "aint nobody got time for that" exercise and healthy eating. We are stuck in the viscous cycle of no time and convenience. I am a victim of this as well. So if I am what I eat, that means I can detox and get rid of the crap thats in me and stat fresh right? I suppose thats the thought behind The Master Cleanser. I want to be better. I want to feel healthier. I want to eat fresher. I WANT A DAMN FARM (but thats a thought for another blog, another day). I just feel like maybe, just maybe, detoxing will help me get where I want to be.

Today I say goodbye to a lot of crap. Tomorrow I start The Master Cleanser and start the lemonade diet. I am setting the goal of 5 days. I will follow his diet for a total of 7, meaning 5 on the lemonade, 1 day recovery juices, 1 day juices and soups, then day 8 back to "a healthy diet". I'm going to hate everything in about 36 hours, mostly hating myself for doing it. Detox is rough. Mood swings, cravings, stomach issues. Can I survive this? Can I go without Juanita's on Sunday? I want to say yes. I want to be proud of myself for sticking to something insane. Its just 5 days.

Can you stick with me for 5 days?

Prepare for lots of angry, detox induced blogs. I'm going to blog daily to document my experience, typing out all of the nitty gritty details of the experience. The book says to prepare for lots of time in the bathroom. Can I be more excited?!

Lets hope that next weekend I'm a new me. A happier me. A healthier me. And if not, well, I'm sure I'll figure it out eventually.