Which sounds way more hoity-toity than it actually is.
I went to a follow up appointment with my doctor,
and found out that nothing is Actually Wrong with Me.
My body is just being a dick.
All of my blood tests came back completely normal,
with a little bit of, “oh, you need more vitamin D,
and should probably take fish oil”.
So the being sick after eating at any restaurant,
the violent reaction to soy,
the struggling to keep salad down?
Ain’t no thing.
SO.
ANNOYING.
Consequently,
my doctor recommended that I go gluten-free for six months.
I’m currently trying it out for two weeks.
‘Coz here’s the bitch about eliminating an entire (and large!)
food group from my diet:
I’m recovering from a ten year eating disorder.
Restricting is a really bad plan.
And because,
hello,
my brain is broken when it comes to food,
my first reaction upon being told to go gluten-free
was to feel guilty about the food that I’ve been eating.
If I had been good,
I wouldn’t be sick.
If I had been eating less,
I wouldn’t be sick.
If I had stuck to a handful of almonds and a piece of fruit in the morning,
I wouldn’t be sick.
If I weren’t eating things like whole-grain english muffins,
I would be skinny.
In my brain,
she was telling me this because
I am a bad person.
(Welcome to the eating disordered mind, people.)
All of which makes just trying out gluten-free
a daunting task.
It’s not really because I think gluten-free bread tastes like a moldy paper cup.
It’s because I feel like I’ve been bad,
and if I hadn’t been,
I wouldn’t be dealing with this.
It sucks.
ps (And? No more saltines when I’m sick? *tears*)
