Again.

The cycle repeats, like a piston in a car engine commercial. A revolution-movement, pumping the metal on repeat, the intensity depending on the demand that must be met by the driver’s needs. I am not a mechanic, my crude understanding of engines is maxed out in this description, however I do know food and I somewhat understand behaviors, just enough to assist people in seeing their own patterns, intent on gaining an understanding and coping more efficiently the next time. No, I am not a doctor either, for that, to me, would be a waste. Rather, I am a person who has survived, for the time being, their own tumultuous patters of “disordered” eating. The quotes are necessary because the patters are no longer based on my opinions but rather clinical guidelines for which I meet. 

This doesn’t matter though, for unlike the piston which is forced in and out, never deviating, I have a choice to interject, interfere with my path of trajectory, no longer succumbing to the same thing on repeat. Similar to the piston however, I do have a path that when passive, I slip into, easily at first, only to find a hard consequence and another unrelenting behavior added to the mix. Currently, it is strictness in food, a relentless specificity where the tightening of behaviors becomes more strict, more demanding, more engrossing.  I had discovered that fish throughout the day seemed to improve my mental health and so, I did what I do best, and went all in. At one point, I was eating 3-4 cans of sardines a day as well as taking 3-4 1000mg fish oils. This behaviors is not “poor,” or “bad,” for if you argue, I have enough of the knowledge to counter, justify, in reality, defend. Now, I have recognized the behaviors, if only due to reengaging an unhealthy thought process. I admit the difficulty in eating other foods, for which I feel fish is superior to, however it is the behavior that was presented as the problem here, not the food. I messed around and became lean and started seeing parts of abdominal muscles I had not seen in a while, so I felt rewarded, justified. 

Wrong. 

Where I went wrong was not the justifying, not eating the fish, even excessively, but in the obsession,  going all-or-nothing, reengaging my worst parts of behavior where I do one thing excessively, thus disrupting a fine balance of the body, and more destructively, my mind. I now have to incorporate other foods and deal with the stress of that disruption. I have beaten myself up over a break in routine even when I DO know better. I know that I need other foods, The nutritional knowledge, I know I need to be more open and acceptable to new and inviting experiences, the mental health component. Despite recognizing the behaviors, change has to be implemented, here, now. 

Unlike the piston I am not a metal lubricated by a full-synthetic oil, for which I just replaced in my own vehicle, but a human with emotions, choices, consequences, and best of all, the ability to see things differently. Nobody judges me like I think they do. Nobody probably even cares. That is all so relieving to a boy that at one time thought everyone did, making choices about everyone else in life because he thought they thought of him. What I can do now is continue to explore my own fascination with food and mood and eat something out of the blue, which to this strict routine means a simple extra handful of nuts, unmeasured, uncounted for, and unexpected. I lied, I expected to have an extra handful before I started writing this, I was just too inspired to get the words out first. 

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