I have come to the disturbing realization that I have been on a Food Strike for about four months now. Yes, a Food Strike. What does this mean? I have been eating Nothing. For four whole months. Wow, how is she still blogging, you may ask.
Let me explain my case of starvation. For the past year I have been struggling with thyroid and digestive health issues that have yet to be resolved. I was also tested positive for sensitivity to wheat, gluten, yeast, eggs, and dairy. However, the symptoms remained when I eliminated these foods from my diet. I was left hungry and frustrated. I investigated deeper into what I prematurely assumed was a sick cakeless joke and am now consequently avoiding all things starchy and white (yes, this includes my BFF sugar), some fruits, soy, pork, and my two long-term boyfriends coffee and alcohol.
Breakups are hard.
Well, what the f*** can I eat? I felt as though a big bowl of cold starchless irony had been served. Oh my God, my body was rejecting my career. Everything I had eaten up to this point was being scrutinized and unwillingly digested by my insides. Mockery. My life was over. Or, you know, so I immediately thought. Thus, my Food Strike began, and I started to replace the bowls of irony with larger bowls of, yes, Nothing.
I completely rejected the challenge. I failed to see it as an opportunity with benefits and therefore further limited myself. What? I had never refused any food or cooking challenge before. Now I was blatantly rejecting Food in its entirety. I could only see the invisible freshly baked baguette with the invisible butter on the table before me. So, of course I began to only desire the invisible. All the invisibleness made me freaking angry. “What the f*** can I eat?!,” I would yell at my poor impoverished pantry.
Knowledge, awareness, and respect for food as fuel are crucial components for proper nourishment. Active eating. I was not eating for the heart and soul, and I was quickly losing sustenance.