It’s been a LONG time since I last posted here…actually a little over 2 years. I lost my password (again!) & then just lost my passion to write. But these issues are still here, & I still have a voice.
So a lot has happened in 2 years, but we’ll try to stick to the physical.
I’m still struggling with acceptance of my body. People tell me I’m thin or how beautiful I am, but I don’t see it. *shakes head in disbelief* …I just CAN’T see it. I dress quite stylishly on a daily basis, trying to gauge my beauty by the compliments I receive. But it’s never good enough & the harder I try, the more vain people think I am. But I’m NOT vain, not at all…I’m the opposite, & I’m just trying to feel pretty enough. I even plan my outfits the night before so they can reach my unrealistic perfectionist standards. On occasion, I’m lucky enough to look in the mirror (or reflective object I pass by) & think I look good. Not my expensive clothes, or my fancy boots, but ME. I LOOK PRETTY. Oh what I’d give for those fleeting moments to last.
As for food, well, oh boy. I’m still vegan (like that’ll ever change) & that has been going well for me. In the 5 years I’ve done veganism, I figured out a lot & I made it work for me. I go through spurts of being neurotically healthy (okay, so less of a spurt & more all the time) with a few indulgent allowances. And aside from those few indulgences (like Slurpees, Swedish Berries, & suckers) I had found the healthiest version of EVERYTHING. Low cal, low sodium, high fibre, high nutrient…I had my diet ALL FIGURED OUT.
That is, until a few months ago. In about March of this year, I started feeling REALLY poorly. I was having boughts of diarrhea (anywhere from 5-10 times daily & sometimes more) & couldn’t seem to keep anything in me. The more I ate, the more I ended up in the bathroom…& I dropped a lot of weight. (having not much weight to lose). My iron plummeted to 3 (10-15 is considered healthy) & I ended up so weak I couldn’t even get out of bed to go across the hall to the bathroom. I was scared. We tested for a lot of things & I didn’t get much better. I just got depressed on top of it. I didn’t want to eat anymore because my body hurt from expelling so much, well, crap. I was living off high-calorie things I normally wouldn’t allow myself, & electrolyte-type drinks. My mom even brought me home a jar of peanut butter (I’m never allowed peanut butter due to my brother’s allergies) just to get me to eat something. And after a few months of complete HELL, it dawned on my doctor. Celiac. It was one of 2 things that my bloodwork showed (through an elevated protein level), & could explain the diarrhea, the weight loss despite no change in diet, the low iron, etc etc. So we could do one of 2 things. One, a biopsy (but I really didn’t want a camera being shoved down my throat) & 2, a trial period of 3 months on a gluten-free diet & checking the bloodwork after that to see if the protein level had decreased.
This trial started at the end of July, so 3 months is up in about a week. However, even if the bloodwork shows the protein level hasn’t changes, I’m not going back to gluten. A few weeks into this changed lifestyle, I felt so much better. The diarrhea had stopped, I got my energy back, & despite the few dips (like crying to find out soya sauce had wheat in it, or having to re-do my already difficult diet COMPLETELY), it was worth it. So now I’m a gluten-free health-conscious vegan…wish me luck finding somewhere to eat out, haha.
I’m still fighting food. My stomach is sensitive, my taste & palate are even MORE sensitive, & I have such an unhealthy desire to be thin…but I love food. I love the way it feels in my hands & on my tongue & in my belly, the way it smells & fills the air, learning where it came from & what it’s used for, what it can do for my body (or against it) & how I can manipulate it, take power over it & exert FULL creative license. That’s my dad in me. He loves food too (some would say a little too much). But a love hate relationship isn’t complete without the hate…which is my mom. She eats the same thing every day because she knows what works for her, what will keep her thin. She denies most of the things she loves because she could “never have just one”. She has moderation issues & is scared of binging. I’m with her on that one…though the difference is from time to time I do binge. I sneak food, I eat until I’m sore, & I regret it. And the next day (or week) I work to undo it. I purge with exercise (no laxatives or diuretics anymore THANK GOD) or with starvation to compensate. I’m so like her…I’m so like everything I hate about her. I probably hate it because it reminds me of what I’m fighting. Reminds me of everything I am going through. I’ve always said, “I have my dad’s appetite & my mother’s mentality”…& it is so beyond true.
I want to be healthy. Healthy for me isn’t working out religiously or ALWAYS “Clean Eating”…it’s moderation. It’s having a chocolate bar because I damn well want one, & working out because it feels good & does good…not because I feel I HAVE to. Or I SHOULD. Those are lousy reasons to treat yourself well. Because if you’re only exercising & eating well because you think you SHOULD, what’s the point? You’re doing it for society, for everyone else. You need to be doing it for yourself. That’s where this is hard. I’ve been losing & gaining the same pounds over & over because of what others think, of what others say, to please others, to rebel against others…always about others. Never me. What do I want??? …Well, for starters, the mirror should break. (Hey, it’s not working anyway).