And I feel like shit.
My first week eating only raw food was rough. Imagine cutting yourself off cold-turkey from drinking over 100 adult beverages per week, abstaining from your morning cup of crack with the pretty mermaid on it, and suddenly refusing your body any access to pizzas and Mexican food…NOT a fun transition.
If you’ve seen New Moon, and watched Kristen Stewart’s “Bella” writhe and scream in her sleep over her lost Edward (who I still maintain looks an awful lot like Bert from Sesame Street), you have an inkling of what my first week raw felt like!
Weeks two and three were a different movie…I felt euphoric and “high” and ate up all the positive comments I was getting from friends and strangers. EVERY SINGLE DAY I saw a thinner, sexier, happier, healthier, more in-tune version of me in the full-length mirror.
Having a cute young raw foods chef at a Santa Monica cafe ask me if I was “raw” the second I walked in the door surprised me. When I answered yes, and she told me she “thought so, because my eyes were so clear and I really had a case of the glow” I was beyond flattered.
But here I am near the end of week four, a week of apathy and fatigue. What’s up? I feel like I’m doing this right…I’ve slowly been upping my intake of greens, I’m making sure I get natural fats like hemp oil, I’m still eating a lot of juicy organic fruits…
Also, I eat very little dehydrated raw foods (they make me feel as dry as they are) and most days just eat foods in their whole simple form without trying to “doll” them up.
I’m hoping that it’s just another cleansing level I’ve hit? I would expect my recent toxic past to haunt me for awhile. Maybe it’s a little bit mental…one month is the longest I’ve ever gone before raw…? But Jesus do I hate the idea that some or all of the benefits of raw eating might just be in my head.
One interesting distinction I’d like to make: I’m not depressed. I’ve spent much of my life in moderate to severely depressed states, this isn’t anything like that. I’m clear about things–almost scary sober–but I don’t necessarily like how that feels…
Sometimes eating raw makes so much sense to me, and I see it as the answer to a lot of peoples problems both on a personal level and a collective one. That’s how I mostly feel…at other times the whole thing seems ridiculous and absurd! Not eat ANY cooked foods? Not get drunk and stupid? WHY?!? What am I trying to prove? To whom?
As an example last night a guy at the bar wanted mashed potatoes. We don’t have that on the menu, but Mike the Chef made some for him anyways, that’s the kind of old school cool we serve up. When I bring him the potatoes I’m drooling. When he adds a few dollops of real butter I’m butter. So I try and remind myself that when I get home later I was actually going to make my own version of mashed “potatoes” which are made from soaked cashews and cauliflower blended up with salt & pepper. They taste pretty good. But they are NOT potatoes, and they are cold. For some reason it just seemed stupid to me…am I too good for potatoes?
My intention with this blog is not necessarily to inspire anyone to do anything. I simply want to reveal what eating raw is doing for me (now and in the future). So please take what I say with a grain of pink Himalayan crystal salt. I’m half-way through my trial and will continue to candidly share my peaks and valley floors with anyone interested…