Ready, Set, Body-Forget
It hurts. And by “it,” I mean everything. Another morning of Wake & Fake begins, and I wonder, what am I doing wrong?? In the last 18 years of living with chronic pain, I have to admit to wondering this quite a bit. My IgG food sensitivity testing corresponded with many of the foods that I have food-logged as possible triggers. I guess that’s a good thing? (Insert half-laugh here) In further self-testing (elimination and reintroduction), these foods are definitely triggers. And I’m kicking myself a little. (Live and learn, right?) Quite possibly the last 4 years of living as a vegetarian/vegan might have been one of the worst choices I’ve made for my body… I am going to miss you, popcorn, beans, rice…
I have to note that in the last 10 years, I have tried every diet from vegetarian to vegan and from macrobiotic to standard american diet (organic-ized). And I’ve been committed. But, at this point in the sad-tummy, achey-joints, chronic-fatigue adventure, I’m almost at the point where I need to be committed. Like, to the crazy ward. My cabinets are swollen with more supplements than I can count. Several have made a difference – but I sense my body isn’t using them optimally – which means there is more work for me to do, not “them”!
My bookshelves are also packed full of books. I have followed Crazy Sexy Diet – and for a short time it worked. Forks Over Knives rocked my world for a good year. The Hip Chicks Guide to Macrobiotics has some great thoughts around connecting with your food – for sure – but rice-consumption didn’t click for my body. And so, this has led me to where I stand at this exact moment… on less than solid ground. I am beginning to believe that there are no right or wrong ways for us to eat – but more so, right and wrong times for us to eat them. When your body is chock full of inflammation, it’s not the right time to consume anything and everything – but to instead lay down the foundation for that ability (within reason) for the future.
And… Here I start anew – again! It’s time to heal my gut, and use food as it was intended: as fuel and medicine. I started following The Paleo Mom a few months ago, but came across The WHYs behind the Autoimmune Protocol last night: “When it comes to understanding the whys behind the extra restrictions of the autoimmune protocol, it is usually easy to see the link between certain foods and increased intestinal permeability and/or interaction with the immune system.” This means that you react more when your body isn’t digesting properly. Even though I “got” this… I guess I didn’t, because this approach hasn’t been ideal for an animal-loving mama like me…
But I kept reading. This mama (The Paleo Mom) has written a book. And in it’s reviews I found something that clicked! “One of the things I learned from Sarah is the importance of vegetables. I’ve popularized #morevegetablesthanavegetarian in social media – but it was Sarah’s focus on the importance of vegetables – specifically a variety of colorful ones – that really made me focus on them. For a while, I’d actually reduced the types of vegetables I was eating because I wanted to stay away from foods high in insoluble fiber – which I personally let affect the quantity of veggies I was eating. When Sarah told me she had research that greens rich in insoluble fiber, even cruciferous ones, showed to be positive healing foods from her research it was a big change in how I approached nourishing myself. As I started adding in much more vegetables, especially leafy greens, it was amazing how much it affected my digestion and how I felt.” My heart jumped. Wait, I get to eat more vegetables with the autoimmune paleo approach??? Yup. It’s actually required.
I’m going to let the 895 reviews, leading to this 4.5 star status on Amazon guide my next leap of faith. Because life is short, and I’m ready to live it completely pain free. This leap and adventure is for my husband. The man who just the other day listened to me say, “If this is how I’m going to feel forever then…” I am sorry. I’m letting autoimmune disharmony predict the rest of my life. And it can’t. I won’t let it. I’m only 29 years in!
Ready, set, body-forget (this crazy dis-ease) begins… Now. I promise that I’ll let you know how it goes!