Thursday, October 25, 2007

Confession

Wait, did I already title a blog with that? Doesn't matter, I still have to confess. Again.

I ate some cooked, sugary, cranberry bread just now. I had the conversation in my head about not needing it, wanting it, using it, etc. and still I cut myself a piece and just shoved it into my face. Ack.

I'm raw for a lot of reasons: health, spirituality, delicious food, sleep, acne, weight, mental clarity, etc. But when it comes to eating cooked food here's what happens:

I see something (usually it's in my house or at work). I have a conversation like this: RawBecca "You don't want that. It's full of life-depleting sugar"
CookedBecca "I know, you're right. Gross." *salivating begins*
"Hmm. It looks so tasty. So moist. No one will see me eat a tiny piece."
RB "I see you. And no one else cares. Or lives with your colon, etc. Don't do it."
CB "A tiny piece can't hurt. I've had (or am having) a bad day. I'm in transition."
RB "Seriously, make your cup of tea with honey and leave the breakroom."
CB "No. I'm eating that cake and you can't stop me."
*Cake eaten, and might I add, a piece twice the size of 'tiny'*

So there you have it. A short, but willful conversation with myself about cooked food. I need raw snacks. I'm an overeater, for sure. I feel like I am constantly going hungry (do not confuse this with the kind of hungry people actually are suffering in countries far away from me). I feel like I am deprived and starving. My mouth salivating is never a justified motive in real life, and yet, there I am, trying to satisfy something that happens via thought suggestion.

When I see people eating food that looks good I feel SHITTY. When I am sitting in Cafe Gratitude, one fork slicing into the best cinnamon roll in the world, I feel normal. Chaco Canyon cannot "cut it" for my sweet tooth. I eat masses of nuts (unsoaked because I am impatient) and could easily polish off all the raw desserts I make (when I have time to make them).

When I am stressed and depressed (and don't forget angry!) I will eat whatever I want. I will probably induce most of these emotions myself, justifying my poor eating. Then I feel shitty, can't get out of bed in the a.m., and drudge through my day. How can I possibly help people transition into the raw world (albeit, slowly) if I myself cannot stay raw. Put in perspective, one piece of cake is not like a week of binging. I know better than to eat cooked food for more than 3 days straight. My body goes on strike and it feels awful. But the one piece of cake...how it taunts me!

Here's another interesting thing: I work at a job that I only sort of like (well, I like the people, but not the job). This makes me sad and I go home each night and eat crap. The crap food in my body then wreaks holy havoc, I feel worse (physically AND mentally), and can't get out of bed in the morning. When this happens, the day starts out poorly (again) and the cycle repeats. Add in the fact that none of my creative juices are being utilized (which is possibly solely my responsibility) and there you have a sad, miserable existence, continuing ad infinitum.

I am afraid of venturing out into the world I really want to be in. Confession #2. I can come up with all the pretty excuses and therapeutic obstacles I want to, but it comes down to fear. Fear of not being raw enough, of not being informed enough (although I read voraciously, this is a HUGE fear of mine...and probably the reason I read voraciously), of not being energetic enough, enthusiastic, etc. While some of these fears are completely irrational, I hold onto them like a security blanket.

I think what happens when I eat cooked food is that I let these fears take over more than usual. Raw food makes me feel strong, confident, and fearless. Eating cooked food perpetuates the fear cycle.

So I'm blogging to point out the fear a bit more. It's totally counterproductive NOT to start doing/being what I want. It starts today. I just posted a class for Burien folks about beginning Raw 101. It's in December. It gives me a tangible deadline, far enough away that I can do the necessary preparation for it. Whew. We'll see how it goes.