October 6, 2011

Confessions of a Health Promoter (part three?)

Oh...the humanity!
If you have a strong heart (and stomach) read on...it ain't pretty, I assure you, and there's no happy ending either.  What I do have to share, dear reader, is a story about a desperate woman in the throws of the night, all alone, and searching for something....something in the form of....a vanilla cake with chocolate icing.

Ya. That's right.  For two months I was eating so well and on the paved (not gravelled) road to habitual permanence until that stupid, yet fateful, night when I was feeling mentally unstable (I blame this cold I can't shake...but whatever).  To this point, I had lost 23 pounds in my two years of learning how to eat better (and blogged about it along the way).  But this night was to be my biggest fall from the wagon to date....read on if you dare.

No..no, no...no...stop!
It was 8 at night (yes, I know, Oprah stressed the importance of not eating after eight...what of it?) and I started to feel.....restless. I innocently pulled out a basic cake recipe (having not baked a cake from scratch in my life) just to see how hard it would be and (most importantly) if I had the ingredients. I'm sure you have heard stories of people finding the strength to lift a car over their head in moments of desperation....for me, my moment was when I carefully blended 3 eggs with 3/4 cup of margarine, 1 1/4 cup flour, some sugar - I don't remember how much at this point it has become a floury blurr to me now - and 1 tsp vanilla.  I cooked a cake from scratch and within 30 minutes I had that baby iced and ready for inhalation. Sure the icing tasted like ass (pardon the expression) and the cake was flat and off center...but desperate times call for desperate baking.

I sliced a quarter of my double layered creation and sucked it back before I could make it to the couch.  Feeling nothing, I got up and did it again.  It was like having an out of body experience; I saw myself doing it but was unable to stop myself from scarfing down almost 1/3 of my lop-sided quick fix. I felt elation and self loathing at the same time! Oh, what was to become of me?

Don't make that face! You
have judgement written all
over you!
When I awoke from my carbohydrate coma (this time I was on carpet and not the hard cold tile of the kitchen floor) I immediately bagged the remaining cake carcus and tossed it in the garbage. Done. Just a bad memory, right?

I honestly don't know if I should continue this story for fear of being rejected or worse...you never read my blog again.  Be assured, this takes a great amount of courage to admit and I'm only doing it to prove the point that everyone (no matter their occupation or expertise) has a dark side - mine is just covered in chocolate icing and sitting in a plastic bag in the kitchen garbage can....(no judgement).  If I can just help one person with my story of desperation than all public humilitation I experience will be worth it.

Anyway, here it goes....

It's over. You can look now.
The next day, after coming home from a hard day at the office, I walked up to that garbage can.....and.....opened up the plastic bag......and.....slowly looked inside.........and.........no, I can't. It's too painful.

At any rate, the sun rose again the next day and all was well at the Cameron residence (after pouring dish soap in the bag).  What made me do it? Perhaps I'll never know. Will I do it again? I can't promise anything. All I know is that, on average, I eat a healthy diet rich in vegetables and light on junk....if half a vanilla cake with chocolate icing gets in there on occasion it's not going to kill me.....it will only  make me stronger, right?

Meanwhile...let's just keep this between us.


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