Have you ever noticed how every single time you recommit to healthy living, you get sick?
(By you, of course, I mean me. And maybe it’s not every single time, but it feels like that right this minute.)
I’ve been back on my meal plan for a week (gluten-free, sugar-free vegetarian). I’m doing all of this energy work, getting lots of rest, drinking oodles of water, using essential oils to support my return to health, and BAM… I have a nasty cold.
I jokingly asked my beastie (not a typo) if she thought cake had some sort of immune system boosting qualities, since the absence of it left me here. For a moment, we enjoyed the idea that one might need to eat cake regularly to be healthy, but we both know better. This is either just a cold I picked up from a customer at the market (day job) or a cleansing of my system that’s no longer being assaulted by my old comfort foods.
Speaking of comfort foods, it’s soul-stirring enough go without my old (faux) friends when I’m healthy, but now I can barely breathe, which makes it hard to sleep, talk, work, and honestly, even think straight. Now, I really have something uncomfortable with which I must now find a way to cope. My desire to check out of my body, to numb the discomfort, to stuff my emotions is growing stronger with each sniffle and sneeze.
Generally, the longer I’m on my meal plan, the easier it gets to follow. But instead of flying high from my week of freedom from the junk that leaves me crabby, swollen, and detached, I’m sitting here feeling like this. This being crummy and whiny and more than a little bratty. This being triggered and uncomfortable and in search of a way to not feel all of this.
I want cake.
Yes, I said it. I want cake. It seems like it always comes back to me and sweets. It’s an old, but mighty pattern that very possibly dates back to the first hours of my life, when I was likely “comforted” with sugar water following my surgical delivery.
So, this is old, and frankly, I’ve grown rather weary of the whole cycle of self-destruction, but here I am. I don’t feel good and things didn’t go the way I worked so hard for them to go (Healthy eating is supposed to make me feel great, not unwell.) and I want cake. (See? Bratty, bratty, bratty.)
Now, what am I going to do about it?