Food - Ultimate medicine or drug?
Slice of heavenly Asparagus Pizza from Route One Bakery and Kitchen, Tomales, CA
From what I can recall, food has always been a source of immense pleasure for me, intertwining itself with my earliest childhood memories. I am certain that I am not alone in this sentiment. Even to this day, a mere glimpse of a slice of pizza is enough to whisk me away into a state of mindless bliss. It matters not if I am experiencing a day of unwavering self-control and command over my willpower, as it only takes a single moment to fall under its enchantment.
Among all the addictions I have conquered (a topic I shall delve into in future writings), I must confess that food remains my ultimate vice. Despite having surmounted mountains to overcome Crohn's disease and shed excess weight, I still consider parts of myself a slave to the allure of food. According to the world-renowned addiction expert, Dr. Gabor Mate, addiction can be defined as "any behavior that offers fleeting relief and temporary pleasure, but ultimately inflicts harm and carries negative consequences, yet cannot be relinquished despite such knowledge." Considering this perspective, it becomes apparent that there are countless addictions one can succumb to. The real challenge lies in how to sever ties with food.
One solution is fasting. In fact, I am aware of individuals who have embarked on prolonged fasting periods, some lasting as long as 30 days, subsisting solely on water. I, too, have experimented with fasting and have experienced a remarkable sense of well-being in the days that followed. However, at some point, in order to sustain life, food must be reintroduced. Dr. Mate's definition brings to light the fact that parts of me are addicted to the sensations derived from overindulging in eating. My addiction lies in the insatiable yearning for the pleasure I derive from consuming food. This is a key point that I want to drive.
During a fast, I find myself grappling with low energy levels and wrestling with waves of difficulty as my body adjusts to the absence of sustenance. In the subsequent days, my self-discipline and control over my consumption seem to improve. Yet, as time marches on, forgetfulness begins to creep in, and gradually, I find myself once again craving the gratifying sensations of eating.
To illustrate, last week, I partook in what should have been a fulfilling lunch—a dish comprising baby kale, chicken, potatoes, lentils, and rice. Yet, approximately an hour later, I found myself unsatiated, as if a fragment of my mind had gone astray. Seeking solace in my journal, I penned my inner turmoil, attempting to decipher the cause behind my diminished energy and insatiable desire for sustenance.
Upon reflection, my initial insights pointed towards my disrupted sleep patterns. Over the weekend, I had allowed myself to retire well past my designated bedtime, and with insufficient rest, I resorted to caffeine to compensate for the lack of sleep. In yet another ill-advised decision, I repeated this behavior the next day, leading me to rely on caffeine once more to regain focus and navigate personal obligations. Although I have refrained from caffeine consumption for the rest of the week, I can palpably sense my body grappling with withdrawal symptoms, as evidenced by the disconcerting sensations I experienced that afternoon. Thus, even armed with the awareness of the unfolding events and a realization of my depleted inner resources, I failed to comprehend that I was caught in a cycle of avoiding the caffeine withdrawal pain, as described by Dr. Anna Lembke. In truth, I simply wished to evade discomfort and sought any alternative to avoid confronting my own suffering. At that moment, I found myself disconnected from my own being.
The sensation of disconnection and the inclination to avoid discomfort are crucial elements in unraveling the events that transpired that afternoon. I cannot help but be intrigued by this sense of disconnection. That morning, I dedicated an hour to meditation, though I must admit that my practice was far from optimal. Mindlessness seemed to permeate my thoughts more frequently than usual, yet I diligently returned to a state of awareness whenever I could. However, the repercussions of inadequate sleep distorted my morning practice, preventing me from recognizing the patterns of disconnection within myself. This, in turn, fueled the voracious cycle of craving and aversion.
It is remarkable how these cascading events compound, gradually snowballing into larger predicaments that inevitably lead to poor choices. Above all, I must extend forgiveness to myself and accept that not every aspect of this chain of events is entirely my fault. This does not absolve me of the responsibility for my actions, but rather allows me to acknowledge the existence of larger forces at play—a topic I intend to explore in my future writings.