Day 19 - The times, they are a' changin'

Started my "diet" today. I crave salt and grease, bread and cheese (my faves). Eating poorly is an addiction too. It's the food that calms, that slows the thumping heart, acts like a sedative. It's eating to fulfill a need, and I don't mean the need to stay alive. I mean that one that wants the white sugar--white bread and white sugar--or in other words, the middle-class crack.

The craving reminds me of cigarettes. I want to pump the drug into my system; I need it to relax. I need it to forget. I need it so my body can disengage from my mind. Sink into the couch, numbed by the habit. Knowing better. Junkie, junkie, there you are...

Eating copious amounts of white sugar surely isn't bagged on as much as puffing on cigs, but it's almost equally destructive. And I am a bread lover. And a pizza lover. And a chip lover. And a Cheetos lover. And a chocolate lover. And french fries make my world go round.

And of course, I'm addicted to the high of these salty snacky comfort foods. Their dense sedation lures me on every menu. Sure, I look at the salads and think yum, but by the time the waitress comes, I'm ordering my taste buds a heaping plate of stuffyourface. Bacon cheeseburger with fries...oh heck yeah.

And I have to admit, I'm a very lucky girl, insomuch as I've been able to really eat whatever I want my entire life without much consequence. I've been blessed with a very good metabolism. I have a body I'm happy with, which I know, is a gift. Most people who do have to work at staying thin, probably want to punch me in the face--'it just ain't fair' they say.

And I agree. Mostly because there's reasons beyond vanity to eat well. While it might not show on the outside, it surely wrecks havoc on the inside, and on my mood, my emotions, and on my ability to see and feel clearly. And while right now I have youth on my side, in the long-term, I just won't be so lucky.

But that's not to say I'm not without specific motivations. A few years ago, I was diagnosed with a mild case of Hashimoto's thyroiditis, which is an autoimmune disease that basically eats your thyroid gland alive. It's not serious they say, but to me it is. And eating like shit surely's got something to do with the fact that my body wants to attack itself to save me.

They prescribed me a pill and said 'take this every single day for the rest of your life.' I asked them if diet and health would affect something like this and they said 'no no no. No one's sure how/why it starts and it's irreversible.'

I never even filled the prescription. But for the next three months I did three things: quit smoking, ate better, and exercised. When I went back, they checked my levels again and said 'Well Darcy, looks like the medication is working well!' Needless to say, I wasn't shocked.

Since then, I have obviously went back to my bad habit ways, and god knows where these levels are at now--I'm scared to find out. But I gottagottagotta know because I can't be laissez faire or righteous about this medication if I really truly need it, especially if Dave and I decide to grow a little Kaushagen in the next couple years. But I HATE medication, synthetics in my system. So before I go in to check levels, I gottagottagottagottagotta give it my best shot. For good. No really, 'for good.'