Literally and figuratively.
I sprained my ankle running last Wednesday. That sucked. It’s still paining, I’m hobbling, can’t do the grocery store trek for my orders….can’t (literally and figuratively) run away from myself anymore.
Yesterday, I had a godawful bout of food poisoning. I forgot how shitty puking feels. Puking, while feeling like someone’s taking a bat to your head, and then sitting you on a roller-coaster ride. Thank god my mum came and helped me. I was all “no way, Sanjay”, but she came and I’m so grateful for her passing me my “Ginger-Aid” Kombucha etcetcetc.
It was from this, relatively non-threatening shapeshifter culprit (chicken soup, rosowek, thanks Babcia, ja cocham ciebie) that I took to Algonquin to camp, frozen, after taking some time to eat it (half a jar), then having it thaw, re-freezing it at home…thawing it in commuting, and now eating it fuck yuck. I honestly am so grateful to have combatted bulimia because that shit sucks.
So I spent all yesterday in fetal position in the bathroom. Ate nothing. Pooped once (that’s TWO TIMES ALREADY less than the usual…). Felt not good.
And then, mum was beside me helping me.
I think that my strong ass determined mind has clouded my intuition in this way: I believed that my sugar-addiction days coming from a restriction-binge-purge cycle in uni led me to intense fear of carbs, paired with my knowledge of carbohydrate-and sugar-burner addictions. I went to school for Holistic Nutrition and learned about ketogenic fuelling off fats. I grew terrified and demonized carbs, despite my school condoning the principle of “carbohydrate appropriate” vs no carb.
I totally lost trust in my intuition.
Via support from Cliff, the school’s founder (who I akin to Tim Ferriss as the New Zealand-version related to his sheer brilliance and charisma) who has been cheering me on and checking in on my recovery, he expressed the concept that we don’t as anatomical beings need CHO, but his course runs on the philosophy of “high performance” in terms of holistically prescribing the nutrients, and lifestyle to thrive as humans. This being said, carbs are a wicked tool to use in relation to needs. These needs vary from person to person.
Yesterday, in my pain, I was pretty damn desperate. It popped (always somehow have to autocorrect myself from typing pooped….) into my awareness to
use food as a way to heal myself.
Holy shit, right?
So bitch felt.
I tuned in, I accepted my feelings, I aksed my body what it needed right then, to feel better.
(that’s not unintentional, aks, gotta do things for your own pleasure sometimes…right Lo?!)
Maybe it took feeling like absolute fucking hell to realize that I don’t want to feel like fucking hell anymore. Self-inflicted hell, no need.
So I aksed mum to get me things that called to me, the only things I could bare to think I’d be able to stomach, because I was hungry, and nauseated, and confused, but also solid in my intuition: I wanted deez tingz:
- Granola (got grain-free, but hey)
- Crackers (got Paleo, but HEY)
- Corn on the cob (organic? non-GMO? don’t know, don’t care atm–butprobswillcaremorewhenimoutofsurvivalmodebcGMOisrubbish)
- BENNA’S BAKERY AND DELI SEED BREAD (it’s been frozen in my freezer for ages, and I’ve had inklings to try it for just as long)
- Lebanon Express dal soup (have been eyeing this damn soup for months….)
- Kombucha (nobigdealanymore)
My god, I was solid in my needs. I ate the soup to start, even when my ED was saying to pick at little things….nibble in non-satiating foods (which is where my bulimic tendencies stemmed…so grateful for my awareness in my post about tools helping me overcome Bulimia and knowing that nibbling doesn’t work…I had to COMMIT to nourishment, so I had the soup). The soup was first food I ate all day, and had to go slow from nausea, but it felt really nourishing. I dozed a bit then (was like 7pm then). Then, round 8, my bod was hungry. I put my hand on my heart, another on my tum, and felt what I needed: a piece of Benna’s seed bread with GHEE babis, an egg, the granola with cashew milk, and PBaetter. Honestly, I was pretty shaky, and I remember the feeling of being “out of control” in my binge purge days. So I swore no phone, no distractions, to mindfully feel my needs and be present. I listened, I listened to my sweet inner voice that so desperately needs compassion and honouring. Man it felt so odd. And so right. (that’swhatshesaid).
I finished, I finished and washed up for bed. I felt so good. I turned my phone away, I did bloat myself, I want to heal my gut, be free, help myself, help others, be in nature, run with the wind!
I journalled, I watched Joe Wong, I “prayed”, and went to bed.
This morn, I swam, oh I swam respectfully and slowly. I ate eggs for breakfast, it was aight…it was aight…it was cool..butmyshitsmorejohnblazethanthat. Then, I allowed myself to feel hunger. I never do this. I suppress hunger till I let myself eat.
I came home from the pool, and ATE! I ate a bowl of the granola, flax seeds, collagen, milk. It was so liberating!
HUGE! Man, I can’t describe how huge this feels.
I genuinely think it’s coming from both myself, and being catalyzed from you blessed souls reaching out and cheering me on. Honestly, fuck, man, the call from Claire, from warrior and swim (AND LIFE) Olympian Coach Ken, love from John Salt, messages in my inbox, Marta, the squeeze from Nicola this morn from way back at Towhee, the honest cheerleaders around me, Jenn at Reunion Island here and now as I blog-post snack (would NEVER be able to do this even last week! I am free! I don’t need to eat at certain times, man it’s time!).
Yesterday, my roommate expressed how perspective is so key: deaths and illnesses are all around us, and life’s fleeting, everything is fleeting:
This too shall pass
So goddamn it, I listen to my body. I’ll help you listen to yours, soon.
My life’s beginning to have colour.
Thank you all, thank you Mum, my god you’re beautiful.