Listening to yourself

Listening to my body is, for me, especially difficult. Years of abuse through injuries, improper exercise, excessive weight gain, and having two children have all left me a physiological mess. Add in years of undue stress (completely mismanaged), a couple of mental issues, and absolutely no self esteem and you have a recipe for one large, depressed woman. The worst part is that none of that factors in the physical problems I have from being overweight all on its own: sleep apnea, severe knee and back problems, digestive issues, low blood oxygenation, diminished lung capacity, asthma... The list goes on.

Granted, I've always erred on the bigger side. I was an average baby for the mid-1980s at 8lbs, 4oz and maybe 20" long at birth, but most of my childhood I was just plain big. My lack of friends and the names I was called all attested to that fact. I more or less ate what I pleased, when I pleased, by no real fault of my mother. The experiences I had with "healthy" foods were not particularly positive, and I can honestly remember eating nothing that could call itself a veggie other than corn and potatoes, neither of which are really as healthy or nutritious as the mountain of other foods available. I was not a healthy kid, nor a healthy adolescent, and now that I'm an adult those years of abusing my body have caught up to me.

Naturally, my body has found ways of getting even. I now find the massive amounts of sugar that I once happily and readily consumed to be disgusting, and can only eat or drink a fraction of the portions I used to consume. Disgusting amounts of food coloring twist my colon in unpleasant knots, excess sugar leaves me with a temporarily geographic tongue (trust me, a single experience having the skin of your tongue peel away in long slabs is nasty enough to make you rethink future sugar consumption) and recently, the thought of deep-fried foods has left my stomach turning. One would think that after 25 years of taking with no care in return that my body could keep up with itself - or, rather, with what I choose to unwisely put in it - but it has begun to rebel by refusing the larger portion sizes and fast foods I once coveted and craved. Now, healthy lunchmeat sandwiches on whole wheat with massive amounts of fresh veggies on top and lots of water are my cravings; ice cream has been replaced by low-fat versions or by frozen yogurt, or better yet by fresh fruit that has somehow found its way into my house by way of bananas (for the kids, unfortunately; I love them but am painfully allergic), grapes, and strawberries. Pastas come in whole wheat only, with mountains of veggie-laden sauce, and broccoli with cheese is a more delectable side dish than chips or french fries.

I'm not sure I can explain this revelation; it wasn't conscious, although every deity in existence knows it should have been. But I'm not complaining. The moral of the story: Listen to your body. It really does know what's best.

Also, happy rapture day! We're about an hour and 15 minutes from the rapture here in Illinois and I'm pretty sure at 6:01 PM I'm still gonna be here, hanging out. As will everybody else. Much love.