About one month ago, I canceled Joyful Juice Cleansing. The cancellation was gradual, starting with Tuesdays. And then, suddenly, Mondays went, too. Irritable and compulsive in response to my self-interpreted juicing failure, I was SO DAMN ANGRY about succeeding for two months only to become just a fat girl who needs her hamburger solid breakfast instead of starting her week as fresh! As thin! As clean! As subsisting solely on raw, organic, cold-pressed juice!

Because food should be happy, I despised my anger. Completely loving everything that I do in my life, it rocked my boat to exist in a state of failure, and I mentally punched myself for not only breaking the juice cleansing plan but more so for eating OUTSIDE of my very strict consumption schedule. If I ate, say before Gwendolyn’s evening walk, I’d become astronomically angry for the entire walk. And that’s SO NOT ME. This required fixing.

Enter scientific analysis.

Why the sudden hunger?? Was it really, truly HUNGER?? Or, was it just my old bulimic thought process of restrict for a few months, lose loads of weight, then hop back onto the bingeing bandwagon, get fat, and repeat? I’d been through this exactly twice before. So black or white and annoying, I know.

A fortnight ago, I confided in my sister, telling her that I could no longer keep food in my refrigerator because I felt too tempted to eat it, on Joyful Juice Cleanse Mondays and on the other days of the week, too, and she asked, “SO WHAT CHANGED?

I love my sister. She’s rational like me. But sprinkled with pixie dust. 🙂

My initial reply, “Well, I suppose it’s because I’ve cut back on volume (calories), and I’m now super thin and don’t want to get fat again.” But, I thought more intensely for a week, the week in which I wanted to vomit my Monday food. Yes, this is a big confession. Me, a former bulimic of 11.5 years, sober for five, wanted to vomit her food last week because she ate something solid outside of schedule. I planned my purge perfectly. I’d fill 9 elegant wine glasses with water, drink it in threes, vomit hard in between, have one bonus Fiji drink and vomit after that, too, and successfully get rid of everything, creating a pseudo Joyful Juice Cleanse, although ironically, even in my bulimic hayday, vomiting was never joyful whatsoever.

Afterward, after what I’d imagined in the previous paragraph, I’d swish with the highest grade Crest Clinical Mouth Wash imaginable. I wouldn’t brush until morning (because after vomiting, the enamel is most vulnerable). And, I’d still be thin. The always objective. But then I thought about the pressure that I’d be putting on my heart: the one inside of my body and the one with floppy ears. And I said, “Fuck that. I need to eat.”

I know this sounds bananas. But in the moment of intense do or die for a Control Freak, this is how one thinks.

And you know what? I’ve gotten even leaner and happier and calmer as a result of exploring the WHY of this entire scenario. And of the fuelling my body with the proper nourishment that is required to support my yoga practice, et al. And of practicing MY YOGA. If it were not for my yoga, I’d have fallen apart, binged, purged, and turned into a sloppy mess. I’m certain. God, I am so thankful for my Yoga.

Once upon a time, a man in Sewickley, an older gentleman who walked with a cane, became my friend. It’s funny of how I’m drawn to people with addictive personalities. Yet I knew nothing of his addictions. I knew only that he loved his dog. Walking with our little dogs, we talked and walked for years, and then, one day, prideful as Dagny Taggart on the first ride on the John Galt Line, I announced, “I was bulimic for 11 years, and I’ve now been sober for one year. Tonight, my dog and I celebrate!”

He replied, “I was an alcoholic. And then I lost my family. My house. My career. And now I’m an old man with nothing. I’ve been sober for 30 years. Don’t get too confident. It will get hard. It will get very hard.”

And he was right.

I got so very mad at him, way back then, and then, a year later, I got mad at myself for letting my destructive food behaviours change my body into a fat tub of chub again. And now, five years later, because of my yoga, because of my dedication, my body is calm and strong, and I have been able to work through this recent predicament like a business. And I am zestful about food again!! 🙂

In summary judgement, in retrospect, I realise that my black and white personality morphed super chlorophyll-infusing Juice Cleansing into something about anorexic syndrome RESTRICTION. I get so high on restriction, always have, always shall. But a girl needs to eat, and black and white personalities don’t fare so well during the “come down.” Therefore, IMO, juice cleansing isn’t a good thing, for personalities like me, in the long term.

Another story for you…

I’ve had the great privilege of earning a new friend this year. She is delightful, determined, and disciplined. Hot as hell. A perfect shell. Outside and inside. Her husband left her suddenly, after 30 years of marriage. This is like leaving the Queen of Kind. And you know what? She’s cried. She’s laughed. And she’s spent many nights alone, with her dog. The complete polar social opposite of me, she’s out there, trying to meet people, trying to keep her brain alive. And she met someone really super amazing. On Friday, this amazing man got to meet her friends. And she said to me, on the occasion, “The old me, the control freak, would have organised every bit of the night from A to Z. But the new me, the one who is healthy, is just going with the flow. And it will be wonderful.”

Her smile would have put my gorgeous Restoration Hardware prelit tree Christmas Tree to shame. 🙂

And the date night went splendidly.

Gosh how I love my FRIENDS, let me please count the WAYS.

So, my point of telling you this information..

PITY ME NOT... people struggle, and if food is my itch, then I’m good with that. Everyone maintains an ITCH. What is yours?

I’m writing this post, as I write them most, for my Control Freaks. This week, pick something that you want to control so badly but know you should not. And let go. Say la la la. And I think it will make your existence and breath and whatever you do, all the merrier.

I know. I did it last week with food.

It is now time to revel in the gorgeous Saturday night gloury of miles davis, martini, and my dog!! The blog is hereby checked off. 🙂

Have a good day, and namaste.