Spring Cleaning

I've opened up a chapter of AA, in case you've been wondering where I've been. The chapter is called Vegan Cupcakes Anonymous, VCA. I wasn't ready, before, to document hitting rock bottom though I do share in my meetings. I'm 27 days sober. There are a million reasons why a person turns to cupcakes, all varying in small ways, the underlying themes running deep and similarly: A form of escape. Feeling like one is on an emotional slippery slope. A cry for help. They are delicious. Cupcakes brought me instant comfort. I thought other bakers were my friends. And I won't lie, I used cupcakes to make a little side cash. When my non-vegan friends praised me for making them "healthy" treats -- when they said they could down 40 of them (who can't?) without guilt, I knew something was innately wrong with offering mass amounts of cupcakes to the masses and to myself. Before, I couldn't see what it was doing to me. Who ever does. I had strayed from the truth -- shielded myself from it -- under the excuse that the goods are vegan. Vegan processed foods are the prescription drugs of the food world; a wolf in sheep's clothing, and vegans ride the razor's edge of abusing them.

I've also started a tiny off-shoot of VCA called Soy Creamer Anonymous. I'm the only member so not so anonymous. I'm 8 days sober, which means I've had no coffee in 8 days because the only reason I drank coffee was to enjoy the glorious soy creamer.

Eight days ago I went high raw which means, 75-80% raw eatin'; back to good ol' fruits and vegetables, nuts, seeds. No coffee with soy creamer. No cupcakes. I can't say I feel fantastic yet, but intuition tells me to plod along. The detox has been fairly mild but interesting. There hasn't been maddening physical cravings. It has been more of an emotional detox, one of detachment from addiction where I used to hang my comfort hat. I've had a case of the Blahs. I don't even want a stupid cup of coffee. I don't even want dumb cupcakes. That makes me mad. I was really angry the first four days. Angry because food is fun, shitty food especially, and why couldn't I have any more fun? But my joints have been aching more in the last few months and my stomach has been upset and my skin looks a little rough and my belly is the softest it has ever been because my body is changing. All of this is less fun than highly processed soy shit and a dozen (fill in vegan sweets here). Way less fun. When my mood is washed clear, I know this is mostly about sprinting to face 40, not grumbling and whining and dreading. I've decided to welcome it, but I can't see doing that all clogged with evaporated cane sugar and nasty-ass palm oil.

I've just this second decided to open one more chapter called Talking About Turning 40 Anonymous. I'll try not to relaspe. I'll take it one day at a time. I'm 10 minutes sober.

This is all a work in progress. I've been brave. And I've been kind to myself because No Coffee is huge. I'm not sure I'll never have coffee again. I just think I won't ever have it every day again. Eating mainly raw isn't as hard as I thought though it takes concentration. It's easy when I concentrate and prepare. And it's easy to lose concentration at this point in my raw game.