Me and raw food have a history.
A while ago I heard how good raw food was for a person’s gut – and at the time I had gut troubles aplenty. That life seems so alien to the life I have now, in a lot of ways.
Back then I could throw together a meal a couple of times a week and all the other times I would ask people to cook me things – usually processed, frozen yuck.
I then got into raw smoothies – a lot.
I was having them before meals (back when I was a healthy appetite person) and loving it. Anything with mango or strawberry was my favourite. Raw spinach is lovely, too! ;) honest. And we all know Popeye grew muscles with spinach, so it must be good!
Then I moved to London. I actually lived with a vegetarian family who were vegan-curious and the Dad of the family (I used to refer to them as ‘My Family’ so don’t be weirded out, oh and did I mention I also worked for them?) used to make really good smoothies. Using honey. But, of course, he would make my smoothie then make smoothies for everyone else, honey excluded from mine – yes I am one of those vegans who excludes honey from their diet.
Anyway, in short, I was eating better – no more processed nonsense, for a start (well, maybe a little bit of cheeze here and there followed with some vegan Magnum style ice creams. My poor intestine probably wondered what hit it.)
Then I got a new job and with it I moved into a new place. This was HELL on Earth. I lost a bucket worth of weight and dropped about three or four dress sizes – ridiculous. I felt like a skeleton, but a very heavy and tired skeleton. I have pictures of that time frame in my life and let’s just say a few of my friends were tres worried when they saw the photos. I’d lost pounds in weeks and my waist was getting smaller and smaller.
One week I would get into a small dress size barely and the next week it would be too big. It was terrifying and not at all nice. I was happier when I weighed more; I felt more confident and ‘me.’ I know this is probably a shield as I never feel weight equals happiness – if it did then anorexics would be constantly happy once they dropped to their goal weight, but the goal posts keep shifting and the happiness moves further and further into the horizon.
I think my problem was simple. I wasn’t choosing to lose weight, I was just losing it. I would work and go to Uni all day then when the day was over around 8pm I couldn’t be bothered to breathe let alone eat. I wasn’t underweight at all but I didn’t feel healthy with the way I’d got to be the weight I was.
My problem was double pronged; I wasn’t eating enough and I didn’t have the energy to eat. Whole weekends would go past and all I’d choked down was a sandwich or a bunch of grapes. I remember one weekend I didn’t eat at all. It was killing me and I could feel it doing that. How scary!
I NEVER want to go back to times like that, they were utterly miserable. I had to retrain myself on eating again and I’d forgotten to cook, too – it came back in dribs and drabs. I took about a year to recover from that time and in that year I got pregnant. I had to MAKE myself eat, even when I would rather be sleeping. This baby couldn’t die and I was going to do everything so I didn’t feel responsible if, God forbid, something did go wrong.
It was when I was pregnant that we got back to simple cooking and I felt very healthy…then my husband got very sick indeed and we ended up eating out of packets (because I just found it so hard to put my socks in the morning let alone cook.) I felt annoyed he was sick and so depressed from all the bad mood food we were eating – lots of bread (which I am happy to avoid in general) and pasta.
We ate better and better as he got better and better, but it was a slow process and I was never sure how each phase would last so I always prepared for worst case scenario; my husband is lazy in general so his laziness was magnified. And yes, I did want to stove his head in with a brick :).
My Mum then stayed with us for a month – bliss. Food three times a day, which was great as I was breastfeeding and couldn’t get enough of food. And it was good, wholesome stuff because my Mum is cool like that.
I then started experiencing some gut troubles again – so in my panic I searched for raw food recipes. We had several dishes and I felt fantastic (gut wise) after each one. 3 years ago