The Unbearable Lightness of Eating
So unbelievably much to update, but I'm just going to focus on a couple of things. Starting off, I've been away for a while because...I got a job! I literally went in for that interview the Tuesday before Labor Day weekend, they called me two hours later to say they could get me at least 22 hours a week (a huge jump from the original 6), and then called me the next morning to see if I could come in to teach two classes THAT DAY. No training, no preparation, just look over the materials and go teach those kids some English! It was absolutely nerve-wracking, but I got through it. And now, just a few weeks later, I'm hitting my stride and really starting to enjoy it. It's hard work and the pace is super-quick, and I have to be honest, I haven't thought much about the parts of a sentence in YEARS. Relative pronouns? umm, errr... some English major I am. Thankfully, I usually manage to pull it together enough to explain it to them when they ask, and only occasionally have to look stuff up for my own peace of mind. The job is in San Jose, which has caused me a lot of mental anguish concerning the value and state of my car and how much I'll be spending on gas (about $210 per month) if I keep my V6 Honda.
With the job came another challenge: eating. For the first couple of weeks, I was having a lot of trouble getting my shit together enough to eat breakfast before I left, eating out for lunch, and hitting Taco Bell or somesuch on the way home. And the truth is, I wasn't doing much better before the job, but suddenly there was a lot more pressure and coordination required. A couple of weeks ago, I was listening to Your Call on my commute to work, and Rose Aguilar was doing an interview with a man whose credentials were pretty impressive. He had been a bigwig commissioner at the FDA, had helped get the nutritional facts listed on foods, took on big tobacco, and in the last few years has been working on studying what causes overeating. He discussed the appeal of a piece of carrot cake, which is the book's cover, in comparison to the organic baby carrots it's pictured next to. He talked about the way so many of us are completely captivated by food, so that it consumes a huge portion of our thoughts, and how impacted and overstimulated we have become thanks to our processed food mecca. The most fascinating part was the studies done on neural responses to eating and anticipation of eating. When I got to work, I managed to wrench myself away from the radio only by consoling myself by looking up reviews of the book on amazon. As soon as I got back into SC that night, I went and bought the book at Bookshop Santa Cruz—this was maybe the third time I've ever purchased a hardcover book new.
For some reason, the book seems to have hooked its thumbs into me, and this is kind of a huge deal. I have been vegetarian now for 2 1/2 years (and occasionally eating seafood for the last half of that). In 2005, I was so frustrated with my health that I began reading tons of nutrition books and tried to become a vegetarian then. I had been faced with so much proof that this was the right thing to do not just for my health now, but for my health in 50 years. I knew that the chance of me still being around then went up significantly if I could make this change. But it's never gotten any easier. Sure, I no longer feel exhausted for hours after I eat a meal (which is important considering my CFIDS and FMS), but no matter how many veggies I eat, no matter how much whole grains, no matter how much exercise, I still crave cheese and margaritas and sugary, bready goodness. And I think the reason that this most recent book has made a difference is that it connects the physiology to what's actually happening in the mind.
On Thursday, my new friend, Jess, from work invited me out to get pizza and beer with her. We had done this the week before and I had literally had the best veggie pizza of my life. It is hard to turn that down. But I sat in her office holding my purse (this sounds a bit pathetic, I realize) and weighing my options. I was on Day 5 of the cleanse I had finally started after 2 months of consideration. I hadn't had alcohol, dairy, soy, tomatoes, corn, wheat, or refined sugar since the previous Saturday. And I wanted all those things just as badly as I had before. Not to mention that it was a Thursday evening in a long work week, where I had just taught kids for three hours in a row and felt like I was about to spin off the handle—which is one of the most satisfying times to go have a brew. But in the book, Kessler talks about how the more often you put off making the right decision, the more difficult it becomes to ever make it. The wrong choice
reinforces itself and increases the likelihood that you will make it again. This sounds so simple I know. But it is positively life-changing. Because I have been making those wrong choices with food as long as I have been living on my own. And I now realize the power they have.
For some reason, that's all I needed. That simple knowledge. The explanation not just of why whole foods are better for me, but of the impact that choosing other foods has on my ability to ever get out from under them. So here I am, still tortured when my friends ('hem, Briana) make homemade vegan peanut butter cups and rave about them in front of me, but at least somewhat able to not say what I want so very much to say: "Oh, what the hell..."
With the job came another challenge: eating. For the first couple of weeks, I was having a lot of trouble getting my shit together enough to eat breakfast before I left, eating out for lunch, and hitting Taco Bell or somesuch on the way home. And the truth is, I wasn't doing much better before the job, but suddenly there was a lot more pressure and coordination required. A couple of weeks ago, I was listening to Your Call on my commute to work, and Rose Aguilar was doing an interview with a man whose credentials were pretty impressive. He had been a bigwig commissioner at the FDA, had helped get the nutritional facts listed on foods, took on big tobacco, and in the last few years has been working on studying what causes overeating. He discussed the appeal of a piece of carrot cake, which is the book's cover, in comparison to the organic baby carrots it's pictured next to. He talked about the way so many of us are completely captivated by food, so that it consumes a huge portion of our thoughts, and how impacted and overstimulated we have become thanks to our processed food mecca. The most fascinating part was the studies done on neural responses to eating and anticipation of eating. When I got to work, I managed to wrench myself away from the radio only by consoling myself by looking up reviews of the book on amazon. As soon as I got back into SC that night, I went and bought the book at Bookshop Santa Cruz—this was maybe the third time I've ever purchased a hardcover book new.For some reason, the book seems to have hooked its thumbs into me, and this is kind of a huge deal. I have been vegetarian now for 2 1/2 years (and occasionally eating seafood for the last half of that). In 2005, I was so frustrated with my health that I began reading tons of nutrition books and tried to become a vegetarian then. I had been faced with so much proof that this was the right thing to do not just for my health now, but for my health in 50 years. I knew that the chance of me still being around then went up significantly if I could make this change. But it's never gotten any easier. Sure, I no longer feel exhausted for hours after I eat a meal (which is important considering my CFIDS and FMS), but no matter how many veggies I eat, no matter how much whole grains, no matter how much exercise, I still crave cheese and margaritas and sugary, bready goodness. And I think the reason that this most recent book has made a difference is that it connects the physiology to what's actually happening in the mind.
On Thursday, my new friend, Jess, from work invited me out to get pizza and beer with her. We had done this the week before and I had literally had the best veggie pizza of my life. It is hard to turn that down. But I sat in her office holding my purse (this sounds a bit pathetic, I realize) and weighing my options. I was on Day 5 of the cleanse I had finally started after 2 months of consideration. I hadn't had alcohol, dairy, soy, tomatoes, corn, wheat, or refined sugar since the previous Saturday. And I wanted all those things just as badly as I had before. Not to mention that it was a Thursday evening in a long work week, where I had just taught kids for three hours in a row and felt like I was about to spin off the handle—which is one of the most satisfying times to go have a brew. But in the book, Kessler talks about how the more often you put off making the right decision, the more difficult it becomes to ever make it. The wrong choice
reinforces itself and increases the likelihood that you will make it again. This sounds so simple I know. But it is positively life-changing. Because I have been making those wrong choices with food as long as I have been living on my own. And I now realize the power they have.For some reason, that's all I needed. That simple knowledge. The explanation not just of why whole foods are better for me, but of the impact that choosing other foods has on my ability to ever get out from under them. So here I am, still tortured when my friends ('hem, Briana) make homemade vegan peanut butter cups and rave about them in front of me, but at least somewhat able to not say what I want so very much to say: "Oh, what the hell..."