So as it turns out….I was right. Sugar just has a catastrophic affect on my body. (Affect? Effect? Seriously, I just sat and stared at that for 10 minutes. Please feel free to correct me in the comments.)
In my body, it is the devil. And I know this because for the past 2 weeks, I have been eating a Paleo diet…and I have felt, slept and poo’d like a champ.
I have been more kind to others. And to myself.
I have been happier, because I just overall feel better.
I sleep through the night, where before I was tossing and turning constantly.
I have more clarity. That annoying brain fog has lifted.
The swelling in my hands, face, and midriff have gone waaaay down.
I have had the energy to talk a walk with my children every evening for an hour, instead of collapsing in the chair the moment I get home from the office.
These are good changes. Mama likey.
So last night, after 2 weeks of Paleo eating, I did a little experiment. I had some coconut milk ice cream. OMG it was divinely delicious. And because it is made with coconut milk, it doesn’t contain any dairy.
But guess what?
Sugar is the 4th ingredient. Maltodextrin is the 5th. (That’s double-whammy kablamo sugar.)
So I ate some. And not a little. It was probably a cup.
And I ate it like someone was about to take it from me.
Within a few minutes of swallowing that bowl whole, I could feel my heart rate going up.
Within 15 minutes I had a pounding headache.
Within 30 minutes I felt like there was a softball trying to pass through my digestive system.
Within 1 hour, my entire body hurt.
I felt angry.
My 11 year old daughter turned to me and said, “Mama, are you okay?”
Um, no. No, I am not okay.
I opted to peace out early from our movie watching, and head to bed. And that was a true travesty, because:
- my daughter is delightful and I rarely get her to myself, and
- we were watching What About Bob with Bill Murray and Richard Dreyfuss.
Regardless, I was done for the evening.
I fell asleep the second my head hit the pillow. I slept hard for about 4 hours, with some really trippy dreams. Then at roughly 3am, I was awakened by the most gawwwwd awful pain in my stomach.
I’m not sure I can even adequately describe it.
It was like giving birth to the 15 pound love child of a fiery volcano…
through my belly button.
It scared the jack shit out of me.
So…I got up. I splashed some water on my face, drank 32 ounces of water, and poured some kombucha.
I lit a salt candle and went out on the sun porch. It was beautiful out….maybe 70 degrees and breezy, and completely quiet.
I sat there for the longest time, drinking my homemade kombucha and thinking about the way I treat my body. And for the first time, maybe ever, I thought to myself…
“I love myself too much to ever feel this way again.”
Just a few months ago, that scenario would have gone like this:
- Purchase dairy-free ice cream
- Pre-meditate over eating of said ice cream
- Almost immediately feel like complete poo
- Derail myself for an hour with an inner monologue about how weak and worthless I am for doing all of the aforementioned activities
So yes, I ate a cup of ice cream, and felt like donkey fazoo, but my reaction now 101 days later is positive and loving, not negative and self-depracating.
Even if I had to birth a volcanic love child to get there.