One Sunday we were getting ready to have company for dinner. We were in the kitchen making baked spaghetti and meatballs and salad, and I commented to Jared that I wonder why in the world life had all the sudden become so unbearably stressful. What in the world gives? Why, when nothing had really changed, had my ability to handle it all seemed to crumble?
And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. I wasn't eating.
I wasn't eating.
In the past, I have thought about my eating triggers. Some people eat when they're really happy, some people turn to food when they're sad, upset, whatever. And some people turn to food when they're stressed. I know for sure that I'm a happy eater--food, for me, completes the ideal picture. There's nothing better than sitting down in a perfectly clean, quiet house, watching t.v. at the end of a long day, and eating something yummy. It's not the same if the house is messy, because the food isn't as enjoyable if everything isn't perfect. So it's like the cherry on top of everything good and nice and perfect. (I do know that I am OCD. That is another subject for another day).
I also know that I am a stress eater. I've known that for a while. At least, I've known it in theory.
And now, I wasn't eating. This particular Sunday was the first day of my third week on juice. I hadn't eaten food for 2 weeks. (No, I'm not hungry. I get hungry like a normal person at mealtime, and when I have my juice I'm not hungry anymore for several hours).
I realized, very strongly, at that point, that my stress was through the roof because I had spent two weeks not unwinding at the end of the day. Food was my outlet. It made everything in my crazy world calm down for me. It relaxed me. It took my stress away, and it did a very good job of it, apparently. I stopped eating, and all the sudden my stress had nowhere to go. So it built, and built, and built. Which is why, a couple of times, I actually crawled in my bed and cried. Crying was my bodies attempt at an outlet for the stress.
I realized that day, that I was experiencing an unexpected blessing from this juice fast. Agent Jackson Leeds had to stay in his dark room for a couple of days and learn how to talk to himself down when he started to panic. My dark room is the juice fast. In a world where I can't leave my every day life and lock myself away somewhere to learn that I'll be okay without treats several times a day, or huge portions of cheesy or bready or greasy food, I have been given an amazing gift. I believe with all my heart that Heavenly Father is answering my prayers in ways I never could have predicted. During my juice fast, I can't even eat an apple to de-stress. I cannot turn to food, and so I am forced to figure out how to deal with life like a normal person.
There is no doubt in my mind that food took away all my stress. But I also know, just as surely, that it was a very wrong and destructive way to handle it. It has been two weeks since that Sunday, and I am happy to say that I do a lot better. I'm not totally cured of stress or anything, and I still have a ways to go to get where I need to be stress-wise, but it's been a while since I've hidden in my room or cried. And the weight I had started to feel pushing down on me is not pushing quite as hard.
I'm definitely not finished. I have just completed day 28--4 weeks on the juice fast. And I can clearly see that there is so much more for me to learn and discover. There is no way I'm done!
I have only just begun.
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