Organic Living Day 13

I am amazed how the combination of emotional distress and hunger result in a desire to binge (or, as is more PC, stress eat).

 It is difficult to believe it has been almost 2 full weeks since I began my non-processed food diet modification. I feel the last week required much  less conscious thought which was potentially aided by having copious amounts of eligible food choices in my apartment. The pot roast I made early last week fed me for nearly a week (gotta love left overs) and I kept an adequate supply of non processed snacking options available for between meals. I was also quite impressed with myself for successfully making my own corn tortillas. So long as I never allowed myself to get to the point of starving I was able to stick to the eating rules without feeling deprived. Not to be trite, but being really hungry feels like my stomach is digesting my liver. Not pleasant. Perhaps that is why I developed the habit of always eating something. If I'm always eating, I'm never hungry... But I digress

This has nothing to do with food
but I highly recommend this film
and not just as a cancer nurse...

 The point is, yesterday, was the first day I really felt the emotional strain of non processed eating. To be honest, I would have sold my right foot for a diet coke. In the interest of full disclosure, I did, in fact, cave (luckily sparing all appendages). I drank half a bottle of diet coke and, to my disbelief, I was unimpressed. This is kind of a bittersweet discovery. On one hand, it is wonderful for my health and overall well being that I am put off by diet coke, but on the other hand, diet coke was my cure all and with the mood I was in yesterday, I really could have used a pick me up. Alas, all the diet coke offered was some heart palpitations.

[sidebar: my caffeine tolerance several weeks ago was such that I could consume 80+ ounces of diet coke in a 24 hour period and still want a nap. Sunday, I had a movie size iced tea when I went to see 50/50 with my friend Jim and my heart felt like it was beating so fast I thought my head was going to take off like a helicopter].

I suppose now, without pop to serve as self medication, I will actually have to exercise legitimate coping skills for my bad days.

...I am much better at maladaptive behaviors like the above mentioned substance abuse.