Psh, I Got This

This fast has been the easiest yet.  I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. 

Usually I’m incredibly aware of the food around me, but this time I’ve had zero interest.  Yesterday we had an office potluck, and for once I felt no need to fill up a plate.  It was easy to sluff off the event -- it’s funny how quickly the old lies to avoid eating come back. 

There has been no hunger, the chills have been almost completely managed through light exercise, and I have almost no nausea (something I fight with constantly).  Unfortunately, there has been no fasting high.  My limbs feel heavy and weak.  Even though I’m down six pounds -- lost over the last week, not just yesterday -- I don’t feel any lighter or more in control.  Worst of all, my brain is stumbling along at half pace.  There is no clarity.  I wonder how long I’ll have to avoid eating before the positive effects start kicking in.

It should be noted that I don’t have a lot of experience with fasting.  Not eating does not come naturally to me because I love food.  I love buying it, I love cooking it and I love eating it.  While I’ve gone through periods of restricting -- sometimes eating less than 500 calories a day for months on end, broken up by a binge here and there -- cutting out food altogether was something I stumbled upon accidentally. 

My first fast, not surprisingly, involved a boy.  He was my first love.  When he broke my heart (i.e. dumped my sorry ass), I fell into a deep (read: angsty teenage) depression.  Eating became a chore.  I tried tempting myself with favorite foods, but everything fell to ash on my tongue.  Eventually I just stopped trying.  I went nearly two months with little to no nourishment.  Through the veil of sadness, I experience a new mental state.  I felt powerful, strong, better. 

I lost 25 pounds.

Looking back, this experience was probably the beginning of the end for me.