From January 18th

Days 6 and 7 of the cleanse are dedicated to what’s called “Purification Weekend,” a two-day period wherein the Conscious Cleanser eats only fruits and vegetables (with a maximum of 2 tablespoons of oil allowed in smoothies or on salad). I chose to make today, day 5, one of my purification days, because I work tomorrow and might be heading out of town on Sunday, and I didn’t want to make the day harder for me than it ought to be.

and folks, let me tell you.

IT IS HARD.

I’m weepy. I’m unable to concentrate. I’m short of breath. my stamina is low, and so is my self esteem. my temper is short. i don’t want to do anything but huddle in my covers, cozier than a damn football team during a timeout. Jo and Julie, co-founders and co-captains of the Conscious Cleanse program, insist that these feelings are normal, and actually indicative of the good the cleanse is doing for me. I might be shedding toxins, or I might be breaking free of cravings. I might be giving my body a chance to recalibrate its digestive process. I might, free of the sense-inhibiting powers of caffeine or sugar or booze, suddenly be feeling a host of emotions I normally cover up in lattes and lagers. there’s some validity to all of these points, but i have a hunch that i’m also just hungry.

and it sucks.

Don’t get me wrong. The cleanse doesn’t advocate skipping meals or restricting intake. I’ve eaten about every 2 hours today, and I’ve eaten delicious things. Still, in my attempts to be true to the purification guidelines (nothing but plant and a little oil) I have worked myself into a paradoxical feeling of fullness. My belly is swimming with brussels sprouts and smoothies, but I’m gnawing for something more. It might be a big ol’ PBJ, or it might be something missing from my soul. It’s probably both, and while I’m uncomfortable with the dissatisfaction of not having anything but more fruit to look forward to tonight, I am glad that the very temporary deprivation of anything more calorically significant has made me a little more aware of my moods.

I’ll have to remember to return to this and examine it more closely later on…right now, I’m feeling a little too skittish and distracted to write much more.

For the next couple of days, I am going to be posting some thoughts I took throughout the course of a 2 week cleanse I participated in this month. Post number one, from day 3 of the cleanse, follows. 



 from January 16th

it’s day three of my 14-day trek on the Conscious Cleanse. On day 1, i got a little cocky and thought how easy it was, noshing on bananas as always, eating steamed veggies as always, and treating myself to some almonds for a change, because i didn’t have to worry about “not deserving them, since i’ve already eaten a ton of other junk.” i had lentils with my dinner and an apple for a snack when i got home from work, and i was happily bellyache-free when i woke up.

days 2 and 3 have been a little less easy. i don’t have caffeine in my veins, much as i enjoy a good cup of coffee, and i don’t eat much bread, even though i like gnawing on bagels more than puppies on chew toys, so giving up caffeine and gluten and yeast (and soy, and oranges, and dairy, and eggs, and tomatoes, and peppers) hasn’t been horrible. What has started to suck is sugar withdrawal. I ate some larabars over the past few days to try to satisfy the craving, but it’s not the same. i caved (laugh all you want at this confession) and had 2 chocolate chips earlier. i also might have inhaled some black bean chips (corn free! but yeah yeah, still processed crap). hell, i’m not perfect. and as confident as i was going into this, i’m realizing now that eliminating things i’m addicted to (or at least very accustomed to) from my diet is HARD.

additionally, i am now hungry all the time. i do not exaggerate when i tell you that i’m eating every 1-2 hours. it’s really embarrassing to me to admit this, because i’m pretty enmeshed in a world (made-up or real, i don’t know which) in which women aren’t supposed to need more than a few dainty meals a day. the fact that i’ve eaten 3 bananas, 3 apples, a salad, a green smoothie, kale chips, carrot slices, hummus, almond butter, and a rather gigantic handful of mixed nuts today doesn’t do very much for my self-esteem…not in dainty-lady world, anyway.

i think i need to get a little bit smarter about how to eat on this cleanse. making lentils for dinner the last 2 nights was great, but i might need to consider either making more, or eating that earlier in the day, so that i’m not snacking every hour, on the hour. besides being annoying, it’s a little bit silly to be caught by a coworker, several times per shift, tossing a smoothie or a bunch of almonds back to battle the bottomless pit.

How often do you eat cereal? Not often at all, anymore. Maybe once every couple months.

Do you measure out one serving or are you a free pourer? As a kid, I just poured whatever I wanted. After food issues kicked in, though, I started measuring…and now I can’t stop. Too much anxiety about not knowing how many calories I’m eating. So stupid.

What is the last kind of cereal you ate? Not sure, but probably something gross like boring puffed rice.

What is your favorite “healthy” cereal? I really like Kashi’s Heart to Heart cereal. I also used to love Cheerios, and there’s a Trader Joe’s brand oat-flake cereal that’s awesome, too.

What is your favorite “unhealthy” cereal? I’m not so into it now, but I was addicted to Reese’s Puffs in college. So gross.

What is your favorite fruity cereal? I never liked fruity cereal, honestly, unless you count a cereal from Post called Banana Nut Crunch. Ohhhhh man.  

What is your favorite chocolatey cereal? I loved, as a kid, Cocoa-Puffs once in a while. Not so much anymore, but I think in combination with some granola or something, I could dig ‘em again.

What is one cereal you can’t stand? Cookie Crisp is gross. Also, Golden Grahams.

What kind of milk do you prefer in your cereal? Almond milk!

What was your favorite cereal as a kid? Cheerios.

Did you ever buy a box of cereal just for the toy inside? Probably, but I don’t remember for sure.

What is the most amount of cereal you’ve eaten in one sitting? Half a box?

Best cereal for snacking on dry? Cracklin’ Oat Bran. Another cereal I was addicted to in college.

Do you put fruit/sugar/other toppings in/on your cereal? Nope. I do like to mix cereals, though!

I am enslaved. I am addicted to sugar. For years, I have been hooked on sucking the sweetness from cookies or candy and spitting out the rest, allowing myself to taste what I won't let myself eat. In the process, I am ruining my teeth, ruining my stomach, putting myself at risk for diabetes, and wasting a lot of food. It's shameful, and I am embarrassed to admit it. It's such a low addiction, so socially unacceptable, this binge-eating (or binge-chewing) habit, that I'm afraid to let on to anyone what I do in private. I want to stop. It's really hard to stop. It'd be easier if I could tell someone about it, because then I'd have some external support. It'd be easier if I were a smoker, or if I were addicted to something less…caloric, like diet soda, or plucking my eyebrows. It would be easier because I wouldn't feel the humiliation that accompanies addictions involving food.

It's funny that I should be so hooked on sugar now, when for years, I eschewed it like I would an allergen, strictly avoiding dessert, passing on hot chocolate in the wintertime and only very gingerly spooning ice cream out of a cup during the summer, always regretting every bite. I can hardly go a day without enabling this bad habit now. I don't need the sugar, because I've gone on vacations or had company and been unable to satisfy the cravings for fear of an embarrassing discovery, but as soon as I am tired enough, stressed enough, alone enough—my resolve falls apart. It disintegrates into a finger-ful of cookie crumbs.

I need to stop this habit. I need to break the addiction. I need to do it because I don't want cavities and I don't want stomachaches and I don't want this extra ten pounds and I don't want diabetes and I don't want to hide and feel ashamed all the time. I also need to tell someone, anyone, so that I don't feel so alone. I wish there were a priest who could absolve the sins we commit unto ourselves. I guess I shouldn't need someone to tell me it's okay; I am 26 years old and the only person who can truly forgive me is ME. Still, there's something liberating about confession, so here it is. And now, I'm going to leave this addiction on the side of the road, and try my damnedest not to turn around.

Nothing. Everything. Always. Never. The tests we took as 4^th graders, standardized, statewide achievement tests, sometimes had questions that included one of those words. We were taught, in preparation for the exam, that sometimes, when used quantitatively, these words could help us find the right answer, even if we didn’t actually know what we were doing. If a question makes an assumption that rules out any other possibility (for example: People always wear hats when it’s raining: True or false) then it’s probably not true (sometimes people wear hats when it isn’t raining, and sometimes they don’t wear hats when it is, like when they get caught in a surprise rainstorm, or if they work inside all the time and don’t care whether it’s raining or not). This rule sticks with me, even though I am far from 9 years old anymore and even though the classroom in which I learned it is now rubble underneath the foundation of a new school. The rule stands.

check it out: a guest post on Vital Being Wellness.

I want my bike back.

I'm going to link through to a post from my tumblr blog, but I'll say it here, too: 

I fucked up. I left my bike unlocked, in the bed of my friend John's truck, as we went inside an ice cream shop for dessert around 9pm. When we walked outside after eating, it was gone. I ran up and down the street, talking to pods of people and leaving my name and number with people at bars and stores, called a few well-connected friends, and got a lift home after sobbing for a few minutes in the cab of the pickup. I walked around for an hour after getting home, wandering through neighborhoods around mine, and even left my name with a cop who was crawling the streets. I've since tweeted and tumblred and facebooked about it, as well as texted everyone in my phone. 

I spent a summer saving up to buy that bike, making payments one by one. My friend Chris paid the last bit of it for my 25th birthday, and my friend John built the wheels for me. Every bike shop on the west side has had a hand in making that thing happen. I just bought new tape for the handlebars. My friend Ben had just ordered me brand new tires.

I made a big mistake leaving it prone. A truck bed is poor protection against greed. I'll own the fault here. I blame no one. Still: I WANT MY BIKE BACK. 

If you see it, call the police, or call a local bike shop, or something. I just want my bike back. I'm heartbroken. I just want my bike back.

The Missing Bike