**NOTE, post script warning: This post got a little intense.  If you easily offended or shocked maybe give this one a miss**

Confession time reader, and this is one that will shock you I am sure.

I am not perfect.

I can see the looks on your faces, the dismay in your hearts, and for this I am sorry.  But it is true.  I am far from perfect.  I very much like the idea of being perfect. Of having a body that can cope with any abuses (of course it would never have to as, being perfect, I would always eat exactly the right thing for my situation).  Of having a mind that soars above lifes problems, deftly solving the conundrums that my average insight so often stumbles over.

But I am not perfect and last night this led to a problem that, writing about now I am actualy getting quite emotional about.

I snapped.

I can see you all again dear reader, picturing gun toting rampages through oncology conventions demanding that all their resources be pointed in my direction.  Gorging drive-bys through local fast food drive-thrus.  Or at the very least a nice piece of steak.  But no, when I snapped last night, for a reason that even at the time I could not put a finger on it I went through probably 75g of raisin, 75g of gogi berries and two table spoons of honey.  This may not sound like much in the context of a society where the average American consumes around 15kg of Candy a year (putting my effort last night to shame) but for me, that is a lot of sugar in one sitting.

I will get to the motivation behind this binge in a second but first to the results.  The results of course can not be seperated from the cause, as the mind set that caused the problem also affected my sleep, but that aside the result was I did not sleep well and my leg got quite sore.  I actually to sleep quite well.  World weary and sick of everything I slipped quickly into a restles sleep after my evening coffee enema (a topic for another day).  However come 2 am things were not running so smoothly.  I woke out of a fitful sleep to the reality of a leg, very sore and demanding that if I was going to go on sugar binges that cause extra inflamation that I was damn well going to be awake to enjoy them.  I do not know that the pain in my leg was caused by the excess sugar but my sub conscious sure does.  It may not be correct in apportioning the blame in my direction but it does not need to be right to wake me up and grill me over my poor choices.  No, in the end as much as I love my sub conscious as a decision making tool, it has far too much power.

So what caused this late night session of hedonistic shortsightedness (oooooh I do like using long words together).   In short, stress, and an unhealthy relationship with food.  Let us start by exploring stress.  Twice now I have fasted, and during each fast I have felt that I have achieved gains in my general health.  The first time I came off the fast I noticed that things went backwards.  Determined not to go down that road again this time I have been very careful with my post fast diet.  Planning everything to a tee, making spreadsheets, calculating energy intake etc.  However that does not counter the fact that everybody thinks that something else is good for your health.  There are raw foodists telling me (through the internet, not directly) that eating raw food is the way to go and it doesnt matter what form that takes.  There are nutritionists telling me that my blood type means I can eat certain foods including f**king rabbit and wild meat, milk and eggs, but not others such as chick peas and lentils.  I have Chinese nutrition telling me that I should eat minimal amounts of fat and spices and that cooked food maintains digestive fire and supports deficient pancreatic chi.  I have the Gawler foundation recommending admittedly good general principles of eliminatin meat, dairy, wheat and minimizing fat but making no comment on other controversial areas such as tofu, nightshades and food combinations.  I have my oncologist telling me that I have to keep weight on or they will consider feeding me through a tube.  I have friends making suggestions about what has worked for them.  I have suggestions to watch my body and see how the food reacts with it but my body doesnt seem to want to cooperate and will often send contradictory messages.  I have nutritionists telling me I have a problem with candida.  I have nutritionists telling me I have no problem with candida.  I have nutritionists telling me I can’t eat any fruit.  I have nutritionists telling me I can eat lots of fruit.

FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fuck it all, fuck you all.  Fuck life, fuck this world.  Fuck the fact that we can’t get our act together as a society and work out what the FUCK we are meant to do with our lives.  Fuck the social norms that lead me to think that I had to know what the FUCK I was going to do with my life.  Fuck the fact that I had to perform.  Fuck the fact that everybody feels sorry for me all the time.  Fuck the friends of my parents who want to know how I am doing whenever I answer the phone.  Fuck the medical industry that has its head so far up its ass that it can’t spend even a small proportion of the money that it blows on steak dinners for GP’s to promote viagra to actully look into the affect of a good diet on cancer.

Ok…

So I am going to leave that in.  I suspect that I am a bit unbalanced at the moment.  I appologise for all the swearing.  But the one thing I promised myself I would do with this blog is tell the truth, and in the end if you are reading then it is your responsibility to cope with my mental state 😛 Hopefully the fact that we are over 1000 words in will mean a minimal number of people easily offended will still be reading.  I am almost sad.  I was on a real role back then, tears in my eyes, anger flowing onto the keyboard.  Only my poor typing skills prevented a full meltdown, which lets face it, is always fun.

But on with the show.  So I am stressed and can not make a decission.  I talk very big when it comes to making your own decisions.  But sadly walking the walk is much harder than talking the talk.  As I have mentioned I am not perfect, and as such I tend to have problems with discipline and motivation.  Especially when I don’t know what direction I should be going in.

Hence, last night at 9:30pm, to assuage my doubts about my diet direction I resorted to a short term fix and consumed a relatively large amount of sugar in a short period of time.  Fuck.  In the end the person I am most dissapointed in, and most angry at, it has to be said,

is me.

But even that is not true.  Despite it all I love myself more now than I did.  I understand how hard this is.  I must try harder to meditate more.

Man this post has got out of hand.  Poorly written, too long.  At least as far as an indication of my mental state it is amazingly good I suspect.  Confused and scared sums it up very well.  And its all out there on the internet for everybody to read, what fun.  Thank god I am not very well known.

Poor relationship to food:

Well I suspect I have covered that one in my previous rantings.  It is painfully obvious that food for me has become the source of a lot of fear and a lot of desire.  The constant deprivation without solid proof causes doubt that feeds on itself causing the diet to have become more about denial than health.  It has become a way of punishing myself in the hope that this alone will lead to improvements in my health.  All in all I am just to exhausted to care.  Maybe now is not the best time to be making decisions, but what the fuck do you do.  How long do I have to decide what to do.  I feel like a man sitting under a breaking wave thinking meditating.  Get up and run you food.  But the sand is to waterlogged, if I run I will die.  So I sit here and meditate, and think about food.  And deep down I wonder if it would not be better to just lie down and cry.

Fuck it.

I leave this post unedited.  I wish to have nothing more to do with it.  If you are shocked by what it contains, fuck you, you read it, you deal with it.