I have problems with depression. Not to go into to details, I will simply say it's hereditary and I honestly don't like talking about it because it makes me feel seriously ill. I am a recovering anorexic with five years of honest to goodness good health. I'm very proud of the fact I don't count every calorie in obsessiveness anymore, although sometimes numbers fly through my head as I'm eating, but it's hard when I memorized so much back then.
So in the present I am conscious of what I eat, try not to overdo it, but most of all I try not to over think it because if I do I know I will get very sick again. At least this is what I tell myself.
Then came the article that put a flame to my veil of deceit that I had shrouded over my own eyes.
One evil little word that screams sickness: Orthorexia.
With varied descriptions, that don't matter because they all remind me of the truth inside my head, go as follows: Obsession with eating "healthy" foods, foods the eater considers to be clean. Mental obsession over what can be considered as healthy or clean enough to be consumed. This obsession can lead to only eating specific foods prepared in specific ways.
The articals go on, but I didn't need to read them anymore I knew what it was saying. Let me guide you through my orthorexia mind.
Morning: I will have coffee. I love coffee. Only filtered water. One cup, two cups would have way too many calories. One cup is all I need. OK one spoon full of sugar, now measure it carefully. No thats too much on the spoon. Don't put that in the coffee. Start over. OK, thats enough. All natural half and half. One tablespoon.
Now for breakfast. Eggs? No because you will want ham and cook them in butter. No butter. You could cook them in olive oil? No, but them there is the ham which is processed. No eggs. Almonds, raw. A peice of cheese. 8 oz glass of orange juice. Perfect.
Lunch. A sandwich? No bread. No, not the white bread. The whole wheat bread thats all natural. No, no sandwich. Soup? No, processed. Frozen pizza! Read the back...OMG! I don't even know what that is in there. You cannot eat that. Now an hour has passed and I am still pacing the kitchen. This is usually when mom asks me what I am doing, to which I reply trying to find something to eat. Which is turning out to be exhausting work. In the end I have a spoon full of peanut butter and some fruit. These are good, pure things I can eat.
At dinner I am usually at work. I work at a sandwich shop. What is there to eat? Well just make it a repeat of lunch where hours pass by and I am still doing a checks and balance list of every option of food. Usually I settle on a mini roast beef because the roast beef isn't processed. But them I make the mini smaller, a slice of bread from each end. There, that looks better. I fight myself over cheese. No cheese. Cheese, yes...no. OK, ok, cheese. Once slice.
People see me go out to eat though and watch me eat a good ole slice of Mellow Mushroom or a Jakes cheeseburger. Yes I do, but thats only because earlier in the day I had exhausted myself by fighting with myself and had only eaten safe foods so I could allow myself the unsafe foods.
I know...this is crazy, absolutely crazy. It doesn't help that one article considers orthorexia a mental disorder. The thing is I hadn't noticed my routine before. Mostly because its going on inside my own head. Sure I should be alarmed when I keep asking myself, "Why did you eat the cookie? You didn't need the cookie. How badly did you want the cookie? You didn't really want the cookie. You should have saved the cookie for when you really really wanted the cookie, then it would have been worth it. It would have been the right time to eat the cookie." But every woman does that, right? Right?
But now I can't stop thinking about what I am thinking about. Tonight at dinner I tried to not think about thinking about eating two slice of pizza, but then it's all I could think about. Maybe I shouldn't have got the Kosmic Karma. It had a lot of pesto which added a lot more olive oil, thus a lot more fat to my half. NO! Stop, it was delicious, the end.
I'm not crazy...right?