Friday, November 16, 2012

Let's get down to brass tacks...

I don't expect anyone but myself to read this. I mean, hey, if you stepped on and find me spouting off about myself relevent to your interests, I will by no means deprive you of that.

A few months ago I was in this newfound stage of self awareness and self concern - I suddenly wanted to take care of myself, feel better, make the right choices. But I had absolutely no idea what I wanted...other than I wanted to box. I knew I could never be the slender, tiny girl that likes flowers and Paul Walker movies, so I decided instead to be the tough badass who could start parking lot fights at the drop of a dime.  The motivation wasn't exactly promising - I wanted an ego and I wanted it so inflated that I would soar over any guys who gave me attitude. My profound hatred of femininity wasn't exactly helpful in that regard either...I'd sell my vagina on craigslist for fifty bucks if it wasn't for the fact that I could never find a way to word it properly.

With the new passion of boxing came the need to have to quit smoking, eat healthy, exercise, jog, limit intake, build muscle mass, wake up early, stay active...all of those things were my kryptonite. But I tried and I'd say for a solid month I was on cue. My weight was staying high and heavy, but I was building muscle and feeling stronger every day. I may have sucked at boxing, but I enjoyed every minute of it and even considered joining a gym to actually sharpen the skills and maybe even compete. (Although the day I got a concussion was the day the music died and I realized my jaw isn't jaw is paper mache. Holy christ, I can't take a punch.) But overall, I felt great in terms of health and body.

But god, was I sad.

I'm talking "let's stay in bed until two" sadness. The kind of sadness that you can't explain to anybody and you have no idea why you're feeling it. You know your life is going great and you appreciate every moment of it...yet you still cry at the slightest poke of stress.  Nobody could pinpoint what it was. One doctor said it was b12 defficiency and I needed to get injections for the rest of my life. Well, it's been a month and a half now and I'm feeling right as rain. Check that one off the list.

One doctor said that it's lack of exercise and healthy eating. At that point I was at the peak of taking care of myself. So check that one off too.

A neurologist looked at me and said, "you need Lexapro, at least for now until you settle down and get situated in your life. It's not b12 and you're not crazy, you're just so stressed you can't even see it and you're holding it all inside." Those words alone made me cry in her office. If I had wanted to walk out of there without a prescription, there was no way at that point, especially not after my academy-award-winning performance right there on the check up table. I felt relieved, but she also said "one more thing - no more hits to the head. I don't want you boxing and I refuse to give you clearance for it."

Maybe my lazy side of me went "woohoo! Didja hear that? No more boxing! Break out the doritos, baby!" but for some reason the thought of boxing without the pursuit of actual fighting just bored me and really disappointed me. So began the drop out...suddenly the garbage food was on the table again, the cigarettes made guest appearances while drinking, the exercising came to a halt...

and with the Lexapro, although I felt so much better, I felt all my addictions come stampeding and wanting to play catch up. 

So, here we are today - smoking again, eating garbage food, drinking, barely moving, and let me tell you, folks - I'm back to the heaviest I've ever been. I feel like 30 more pounds and I could be a PT Barnum calendar girl.

I'm not fuckin having it.

I'm going to start an experiment on Monday. I'm going to detox and see what I get out of it. It's basically the Paleo diet - lean meats and raw vegetables with no grains and NO TOXINS. No hydrogenated oils, no preservatives, no corn syrup, no fructose.

I've been reading labels constantly - eating the same shit I always do, but being more aware of what I'm putting in my body and every single label has left me disgusted. My biggest villain will be Diet Coke. I've been drinking at least one can of Diet Coke every single day since I was 13 years old. It's my weirdest, yet strongest addiction and lately with the statistics I've been reading, I'll be more than happy to part ways with it. Once I read one of the additives was an old time way of stopping the immune system during surgery, I knew it was time to cut this shit out.

So, I'm starting this blog for myself - again, if anyone is at all interested and wants to read about how it's going, by all means feel free. I'll be posting articles I find interesting and the different things I learn about food toxins and my aggravating trips to Mother Earth as I try to not mock the scraggly hippies as I purchase the same shit they do. (My ego never really did deflate all the way since boxing.)

So here's to it. Let's see what happens. Will I wind up down thirty pounds instantly from inflammation reduction and detoxifying? Or will I be a neurotic mess, smoking cigarette butts from outside a nail salon? Tune in and find out!

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