As some of you may know, David has been doing this weight loss cleanse with me. Not because he’s fat…he’s not. He’s doing it because he’s health consciousness…and it is a cleanse…and he’s doing to be supportive of me. That’s the kind of man he is and that’s the kine of man I magnetized into my life. He also knows he quit anytime…my request to him has been, if he quits, “please don’t eat trigger foods in front of me.” Trigger foods are mostly pizza, pasta, and steak right now….and he’s good with that.
We started Phase 2 a day or two ago…and it’s way easier than Phase 1…but it’s still hard and has a lot of emotions attached to it. As an additional way of cleansing, I asked David to share his experience with you. Some of you may think it’s a bunch of bull…but for me, I now know that he gets it….and he really gets me.
For the record, I cried my eyes out when I read this.
Love,
Robin
A skinny man’s guide to being a fat woman
The hardest 10 days of my life.
by David Rosenhaus
www.davidrosenhaus.com
I’ve always been empathic. I’ve always seemed to instinctively understand what other people are going through. As I’ve gotten older, that talent has seemed to diminish. When Robin decided to take serious action about her weight by taking on a deep cleanse program, I decided to do it with her. I’ve never had a weight issue, but I am somewhat health conscious and it’s been a long time since I’ve done a cleanse so I knew I would benefit from it. But mostly I chose to do it to be supportive, so Robin wouldn’t have to go through it alone.
I’ve done fasting before. I did a vision quest where I was without food and water for two days on top of a mountain in New Mexico. I did four months eating only raw, vegan, and organic food. Those experiences were challenging. Compared to the first 10 days of this new cleanse, they were a walk in the park on a warm sunny day.
In the beginning I wasn’t worried about being limited to only cabbage, green apples, carrots, and watermelon for two days, then only 24 ounces of milk the next two, then back to cab-app-car-wat the next two and so on. As I said, I’ve done raw, I’ve done fasting, and if you stay focused and understand that the body has plenty of stored nutrients, it’s no big deal. Plus, the first cycle was only for 10 days. No problem.
I was wrong.
Now for me, the big difference between my previous experiments with food deprivation and this one is that my primary source of income right now is waiting tables. This is a physically demanding and sometimes grueling occupation. It is not something you want to do without enough fuel. The fact that I have a very fast metabolism to begin with means that I really need to be well-fed, and well-nourished to function at peak levels when doing physical work. Hell, to function even at mediocre levels I need to be well-fed and well-nourished.
The first two days of the fruits and vegetables were fine. The first two days of only milk were challenging, but I got through them. By the fourth day, I couldn’t eat enough to fill the gaping hole in my gut.
I love green apples, but the tartness was suddenly too much for me. I don’t dislike cabbage, but in its raw form it needs to be chewed and chewed and chewed. Finally I just pureed it and ate it like pudding. I was able to down an entire bag of it, but it was like Cool Hand Luke shoving all those eggs into his belly. There just wasn’t any more room. And still the hunger was there.
By the 8th day I was shaky and light-headed all the time. I was having crying jags even at work. Even drinking water sometimes hurt. It didn’t matter how much food I ate, or didn’t eat, the gnawing in my stomach was always there. The emptiness went beyond my belly and became emptiness in my being. Lethargy and apathy were constants. The hunger was deep and never-ending.
That’s when Robin said, “Welcome to my world.”
And that’s when I really understood her struggle with weight. As an observer, it’s so easy to think a fat person only needs to use portion control, a little will-power, and some exercise to get down to a “normal”, healthy weight. It’s so easy to think that they are weak and lazy when we see a fat person eating that burger or ice cream.
We don’t see the many times during the day when they choose a carrot instead of carbs and try to ignore the pain and emptiness in their stomachs. We don’t see how every lettuce wrap or piece of fruit tries to fill the hole but fails. We don’t see, or feel, how the hollow abyss of hunger and deprivation and guilt and judgment (from the self and others) beats them down, slowly, slowly, but constantly and consistently like Chinese water torture until crying “Uncle” and shoving that cheeseburger and fries in your throat feels like a life preserver as you drown in a sea of emotional and physical pain.
I think it’s important to note that as over-dramatic as that sounds, it still doesn’t come close to the truth. The truth is much more painful. The truth is much more deep. To live with that emptiness inside hour after hour, day after day, year after year is a torment I wouldn’t wish on anyone. It wears you down, and when you think you can’t take another minute of it, it’s still there and you still take it because it’s there and there’s nothing you can do about it except keep trying to beat it. Some days you win. Some days you lose. But every day, every moment is a struggle.
A drug addict can go through detox and then stay away from drugs. An alcoholic doesn’t have to go to the bar or buy that bottle. A food addict cannot escape. Food is everywhere. There are no social gatherings that don’t have it. Unlike all the other things people find themselves addicted to, food is the only one there is no escape from. We need it to survive. This makes it the hardest addiction of all.
I’ve gotten a taste (if you’ll excuse the phrase) of what it’s like and it fucking sucks. But now that I’ve had the experience, my eyes and my heart are open. And for that I am eternally thankful.
