By the time I was a teenager, I’m pretty sure I was wise beyond my years. Wisdom, however, doesn’t equate to joy or confidence, two qualities I could have used more of. In part one of this three-part blog series, I wrote a snapshot of my childhood in relation to sugar addiction, secrecy, and early camp life. If you missed that blog and want a segway into part two, you can read that here.
Spending countless hours on my own shaped my world and helped to build my castle. I liked hanging out with myself; I found it pleasurable and relaxing. I knew how to create special spaces and fill them with beauty and intrigue. They were comfortable places to unwind.
Unsurprisingly, there was a dual nature to time spent alone—freedom and entrapment. Freedom to dance to my own rhythm and conserve my energy, yet trapped by the confines of my mind. I felt drained from the repetition of my own wonderland.
My Food, My Friend
Enter food as a way out: instantly gratifying, fun, deeply satisfying however brief, familiar, and definitely something “tasty” to look forward to. Oh yes… an EVENT. We all need events, don’t we?
I cherished food for the good friend she was. Nearly always accessible, she was there for me when I needed her; ready to satisfy. One of our favorite pastimes was watching movies in bed. We snuggled up together, pillows propped behind us, excited for our moment of joy to unfold.
Meal of choice? I’m sure it was a veggie burger, fries, “natural” soda, and dessert. In other words, a gluten concoction bound together by rancid, industrial seed oils, processed sugars, refined carbohydrates, and table salt. Sandwiched by additional puffy gluten-bombs on each side, strong preservatives, and a dab of non-organic veggies for garnish.
The trans-fat-laden french fries filled my gut and created inflammation like no other food could. I wasn’t aware of “inflammation” at the time, I just felt bloated. All washed down with a fancy-fructose bubbly, I was good to go into crash-out zone and float into a comfortable fog. Funny, it sounds like I was on a drug…
The Bird and a Bit of Deceit
I was taking care of a friend’s bird on a sunny, Southern California weekend. There was nothing I actually had to do for the bird, but as an excuse, my “bird sitting” role became handy. You see, I had another friend who asked me to accompany her to a talk given by her most-cherished spiritual leader. It was kind of a big deal.
Couldn’t go though… ‘cos I was watching the bird. At least that’s what I told her to escape the invite. “A bird!” she said, with a disenchanted tone. I held my ground.
Can you guess the rest of the story? It wasn’t uncommon for me to create excuses as a way out of socials events. What I wasn’t saying was that I wanted to go home and eat. Comfort food—MY EVENT—comfortably familiar. Perhaps one day I’ll confess this to her and we’ll have a deep conversation on the topic.
It all boils down to carbohydrate addiction. More so I believe than any deep-seated trauma or psychological imbalance. Greater than emotional instability, or if there was instability, it was likely caused by carbs. Now that I’m thinking about it, Caused by Carbs is a great name for a book…
It’s not the macronutrient itself that creates destruction. It’s what happens hormonally as a response to the sugar. Oh… carbs are sugar in case you weren’t clear about that. Once my body and mind were used to sugar as fuel (since childhood), we wanted more, more, and more. The physiological impact came first; psychological second.
June was her name; probably still is. She’s in the storyline of my book, Wave Goodbye to Type 2 Diabetes, as the psychic I went to see who uttered the word diabetes. It didn’t mean much at the time. In fact, it would be thirteen years later when “type 2” would knock on my door by way of diagnosis. I likely had the condition at least a decade before the tests confirmed it.
Not knowing I’d be colliding into illness years down the road, I continued my love/hate affair with sugar, flour, and other chemical-heavy, insulin-enemy-number-one refined carbohydrates. Feeling terrible physically and emotionally became second-nature, as I faced my days with bloated belly, mental irritation, and extremely depleted energy.
To be continued in part three, as the best is yet to come…