Tonight was an Epsom salt bath night: at least 2 cups, at least half an hour, warmest water you can stand. I love a good Epsom salt soak at the end of the day. Unfortunately, for the past two nights I’ve had to have one, because I managed to “tox” myself pretty badly over the last several days and the best band-aid I know for the onslaught of flu-like symptoms that results from an orgy of sugar, dairy, and gluten is some good-old magnesium sulfate.
You may be inclined to wonder why, knowing that eating these things causes me to feel like I’ve sucked face with an infected swine, I engage in such behavior. Like living, the reasons are many, varied, complicated. The short and totally unenlightening answer is that my sister, whom I love dearly, is in town and sharing bodily punishment seems to be one of our favorite pastimes. Potentially requiring no less explanation is this one word: addiction. Not to mention things like convenience, belonging/inclusion, fun.
A woman with whom I went to elementary school recently mused on her Facebook status that she crash diets because she crash eats. No kidding. Right now, I’m doing the latter because, for the past month and a half, I’ve been doing the former. And, though I’m too appalled by myself to get on the scale, I’m sure that the hard-fought 10 lbs that I lost have yo-yoed back in the other direction. So sad, I cluck my tongue and shake my head.
And tomorrow I’m getting back on the wagon. Or maybe the next day; my sis leaves Sunday morning. But definitely back on the wagon, though this time with the goal of doing more nourishing and less starving. Is this familiar to anyone: “I’m eating only fruits, vegetables, and meats!” and then managing to eat so little throughout the day that by the end of it you could eat an elephant and still want more? And then, feeling like an elephant, you’re so demoralized that you quit trying before you’ve even begun?
So let’s begin.
2 weeks ago