There’s something they don’t tell you in all the propaganda surrounding food and weight loss. It’s been somewhat brought to light by the sheer cattiness of our society, but not in a serious way, not as the health issue it is – but as a joke, an insult to sling at the glass houses all around you. If you’re looking, paying attention as you go, it’s in the information too, but it gets lost behind the big, scary labels of different diseases they use as a scare tactic. This is not a scare tactic, this is the truth of my life.
Food and I have always had a rather interesting relationship. I was once a very healthy little girl. Then came early puberty and a stressful home environment. That’s when things got twisted. Not too long after that, I discovered that food was one of the only ways I could rebel against the tyranny in my life. Further down the rabbit hole I went, and before too long I didn’t recognize the body staring me back in the mirror. As a great many of us do, I wanted to fix it, change back to the healthy form I once had, but I quickly found that I was weak and unable. Dark days, indeed.
Now comes the fun part, the secret I wish to warn you about that’s no secret at all. To look at me, you’d never guess how overweight I really was. The catty term for it is “skinny fat”, but I was not skinny fat. I was fat fat. I just dressed well and learned a few tricks. I still ate whatever I wanted though, and none of it was ever healthy. We all know that eating junk food, fast food, sugary food, etc. is bad for us. The evidence that it can lead to things like heart disease and diabetes is overwhelming. What they don’t tell you, is that isn’t necessarily the worst thing that can happen to you.
Did you know that you can turn your body into a toxic wasteland if you try hard enough? It’s true! I know, because I did. My eating habits for years and years were absolutely atrocious, and while I didn’t like what I saw in the mirror, what was happening inside was even more alarming. For all appearances I seemed fine, but I didn’t feel fine. I was exhausted all the time and in a constant state of craving to name but a couple of my list of symptoms. When I finally broke down and went to see a doctor, it took a couple tries to find one who got it right. She had all the tests run on all my fluids and the results were terrifying.
I wasn’t diabetic, I didn’t have heart disease, my blood pressure wasn’t even too bad. But I was dying just the same. My entire body, every major organ, was on the verge of failure. To my knowledge, there isn’t a name for it beside dying. I was and had been poisoning myself for years, slowly sending myself to an early grave. Nothing had gone fully critical yet, but it could any day now. I had made my body an unsafe environment for my organs. How messed up is that?
This should have been a wake up call, but it wasn’t. Not really. Things had to get worse before they got better. But they did get better. I found a diet that worked for me and balanced out my body. It also got me the nutrition I needed to start the healing process for my poor, abused body. Even more importantly, I stuck with it, and can continue to do so for the rest of my life. Things were going quite well.
Detoxing is never fun or easy on you, but that suffering is infinitely higher for your body. The muck it has to try to remove from your system is substantial and exhausting. Which leaves you weak and susceptible in a way – anything new that comes in to attack you stands a better chance at winning simply because your body is too busy fighting it’s own battles to properly defend you. This is exactly what happened to me.
Now my body and I have never been and will probably never be “normal”, which is why I wasn’t overly surprised that there wasn’t a name for what was wrong with me. Nor was I surprised that so many serious issues could be happening without my life being affected overly much. I’m quite tough and stubborn and wasn’t about to let my body tell me what to do. It certainly made it’s point known this time though.
In a normal person’s body, you would get a bladder infection/urinary tract infection (UTI) and that would spread to your kidney’s if left untreated, and then you’d have a kidney infection. YOU DO NOT WANT A KIDNEY INFECTION!! In my body, there was no UTI but I did have a kidney infection that then spread down to become a UTI a few days later. Can I just say that I have never felt such pain in my entire life? I’m not afraid of pain, in fact I handle it quite well, but this was a whole new world of excruciation. It easily knocked what I would have considered a 10 before down to a 3 or 4. Anyone who has ever experienced true kidney pain can attest to this.
So why, beside the abnormality that is my whole being, did it start at the kidneys? Easy. They’re a soft target right now. Being one of those organs that was under stress just a few months back, and a major player in the whole detoxifying process of the body, it’s really not that shocking when you think about it. The added and intentional stress of exercising just helped this one take root faster it seemed.
I just took the last of my meds today, and my body did not appreciate a single one of them – it never does. Western medicine and I haven’t been friends since I was very young, and even then… I’m hoping that getting back into the swing of things will help my body level out once more. That’s the thing about detoxing though, the thing they don’t necessarily tell you: if you’ve spent most of your life making your body toxic, detoxing it will leave you vulnerable within. It takes months to undo years of damage, miraculously, but that doesn’t mean you won’t get to experience new and craptastical changes right along with all the good ones.
This sucked A LOT and set me back a fair amount in my journey. Ten days in bed on heavy drugs will do that to ya. But it didn’t end anything. Nothing’s really changed now that it’s over. Just another lesson in what I can survive – how much I can take. While I sincerely hope I never have to repeat this particular lesson, I’m sure it won’t be the last.