What Fevered Dream

This past Saturday was the two-month mark of 'The Great Raw Food Experimentacular of Aught Nine.'

How did I celebrate such an auspicious occasion?


Why, by having a mini-freak-out-break-down of course! This one was fabulous; definitely one of my better to-do's: Wailing around in my kitchen, slamming open cupboards full of food that I can't eat, banging around pans I don't use, cursing my dehydrator, blaming raw food for everything wrong with my life, glaring at the blender, bemoaning my lack of weight loss, stomping in place because I couldn't figure out why I was hungry. I'm talking full-on, Joan-Crawford-with-a-hanger antics.

After all of that though (and a long, soothing bike ride with Roomie), I realized that perhaps some re-evaluation-ing was in order.

It's been two months or longer since I had any bread, pasta, or rice. At least that long since I had store-bought anything. No cereal, no crackers, no chips, pretzals, candy, cookies. I haven't had any ice cream. No pizza. Hell, I haven't had anything warmer than room temperature since April 1. And it's not that I really miss any of that, rather, I'm getting a little bit bored. At the same time though, I'm also feeling overwhelmed by the daily work required to maintain this lifestyle. Ever been bored and overwhelmed at the same time? It's a strange feeling. Add to that a soupcon of guilt at the thought of not finishing something I started (even a something that has no measurable end), and you have my mindset during the aforementioned rant.

Honestly, I'm feeling a little bit like an addict. It isn't so much that I suddenly don't like raw food or want to quit my lifestyle completely. Instead it's the slightly panic-inducing feeling that I can't quit. I don't know how. One of my best qualities is my will-power. When I so choose, I can force myself to do/not do just about anything. I once sat in a school desk, completely still, staring at a single place on the wall in front of me for two hours just to see how long I could be still. Sometimes that will-power takes on a life of its own, though. The little voice in the back of my head that says, "you know what's better than 3 months straight? Four months! And you know, 6 months is even better! A nice round, half-way number. And hell if you're gonna do it for half, you might as well go for the whole!" I rarely start things that I do not finish; I rarely start things I cannot finish.


***


So, in an attempt to take some control back from my megalomaniacal will power I'm going into raw rehab. Instead of methadone I'll be using slightly cooked vegetables and sprouted grain breads to help balance things out a little bit. Your diet should never have more control over your life than you do. Doing anything at the extreme end of a spectrum is exciting but you can't let it consume you.

But worry not, friends and enemies, there are still plenty of raw tales to tell. Coming soon: fun with raw gronola! "refried" almond pate! Sprouted rye crackers! Maca powder smoothies!

And hopefully, far fewer breakdowns.