Kimmer is just part of the problem

As some of you know, I have a great interest in diet and nutrition. This of course is ironic as, like most of you also know, I struggle mightily with my own weaknesses in this area. I'm not alone in this, however. If anything, I'm in the majority. I'm probably a lot like you.

Many of us are specifically looking for a way out of the endless diet loop; a way to "lose weight fast" and "keep it off". We want to lose thirty pounds in a month in order to fit into a wedding dress. We want that beach body by summer. These rationalizations miss the mark and drive far too many to do truly unhealthy things to themselves.

A few years back I was a "low carber". I ate very few carbohydrates (even the complex kind, which are necessary to good health) as well as no refined sugars. I started the LC program because my brother had been diagnosed with extremely high (read: absurd) cholesterol and "prescribed" a low carb way of life (specifically, Atkins). At the time it seemed ridiculous to me; eating all that meat and fat in order to lower numbers. Still, he did it for years and actually brought his cholesterol down*. He also said he felt good and had more energy.

Since I'm predisposed to the same conditions as Jesse, particularly high blood pressure, I decided to give his seemingly successful Way Of Eating (WOE) a go and joined him in eating that way for nearly a year.

(I am not going to go into an exhausting treatment of the low carb lifestyle. It's a controversial subject and believe me, I've seen (and been a part of) every debate. Suffice it to say I no longer personally eat that way and am exceedingly the happier for it. I find too many low carb programs** to be unhealthy and just plain bad for the body.)

During that year of low carbing I became involved in various online forums. The most popular was Low Carb Friends. I enjoyed the people there, got tips and recipes and even developed a friendship or two. All in, it was a cool community. Which brings me to my point.

If any of you were on the LCF board over the past 1 - 3 years, you may remember hearing a lot about someone named "Kimmer". (Who am I kidding? I'm sure you did.) When I was there, Kimmer (and her followers) were touting a supremely austere permutation of the low carb lifestyle, which really wasn't a permutation at all: it was straight-up starvation wrapped in a low-carb bunless burger. Minus the burger.

Kimmer claimed to have lost 198 pounds in eleven months on her "plan". Eleven months! She was also willing to share all those low carb diet secrets --- for the right price, of course. She created a website to sell those secrets, charging $60 a membership. Low carb devotees flocked. As just an example of Kimmer's plan -- quaintly called Kimkins -- people were actually told to achieve what's called SNATT, which stands for "semi-nauseous all the time". Lovely, right? And if you weren't in the state of SNATT then by God you were doing Kimkins incorrectly.

The "diet" itself called for 300 - 500 calories a day, which, hello, is starvation. Seems anybody who knows even the smallest amount about healthy eating would be able to see that, but no. Kimkins blew up with all kinds of people, especially the pro-ana communities. Within a year's time Kimmer (real name Heidi Diaz) pulled in something like 1.2 million in online sales.

Yes, 1. 2 million.

But then something else happened. People following Kimkins -- the ones who'd bought the memberships and into the program -- began losing things like .... hair. Skin luminoscity. Energy. They were becoming sick. Some would even make inquiries about these symptoms only to be told they were eating too much food.

The kicker? Former "Kimkins" devotees, smelling something foul at last, hired a private investigator to find and follow Heidi Diaz. Know what she looks like?

Wait for it...

This.

Yes, that's right. Not only is Kimmer handing out dangerous and potentially fatal "diet" advice, she is also morbidly obese (weighing in at 300+ pounds) and follows none of that advice herself. Click here for actual video surveillance of Heidi Diaz. It's precious.

It's also enough to sicken me. Don't worry about Kimmer though --- she's being sued and her name is being bandied about on myriad television programs. Any profit she made will no doubt be pissed away (if there is a God) as lawyer bills pour in. It's called karma and it couldn't have happened to a greater gal.

Stories like this make my blood boil. I can't tell you how many supplements I've tried through my life, or WsOE, all in some vain hope to achieve "optimum health". What I didn't know then, however, and which I do know now, is that health is not for sale. Health is also singular to the individual, meaning nobody is ever going to teach you the right way to be healthy (or even thin) except you. What works for you might not work for the next guy because you have unique needs. There's only one you.

And so the answer? Listen to your body.

Yes, it really is as simple as that. Listen to your body as it tells you exactly what you need to know, to do, to eat. This is roughly what intuitive eating is; it involves acknowledging your hunger and then examining it to figure out what your body is truly asking for. For example, maybe your first inclination is to eat ice cream, but the more you examine the inclination or hunger, the more you realize that what you really want is oranges. Or water. Or spinach. Or even, yeah --- ice cream. It's about ultimately eating what the body truly wants; as much as you like without pigging out. Doesn't sound so bad, right?

My point is that you don't need someone else to "teach" you how to listen to your own self. Sure, a lot of us have supremely lost our way, and that's why good and reputable books like If You're Going To Eat At The Refrigerator, Pull Up A Chair (Geneen Roth) help us to listen and re-learn. That's fine. Information never hurt anybody.

But your body will always do the work for you, if you let it. The body always seeks its way back to wellness and balance and will achieve it if you get out of your own way. Don't let scam artists like Heidi Diaz and other so called "experts" make you think you can't do this by yourself. You not only can, you should. You're the only expert that matters.

You're the only one who can heal yourself.

*as far as I know, Jesse now has a modified low-carb WOE and couples it with (what I consider to be) a bananas amount of hardcore exercise. He's certainly trim, but I worry about his health. His cholesterol goes up and down, but it is frequently high.

**not all low carb programs are created alike. One or two actually make sense, such as The Goddess Diet, which I will review in an upcoming post.

Intuit

Let's talk more about this intuitive eating business.

Not now or anything.

I'm far too busy attempting to intuit what to eat.

My mind is shrieking an entire leg of lamb but maybe what it's really saying is: asparagus and air.

Gut Spill

I'll tell you what: on paper, I certainly have all the answers.

See, it's never been about information. It's never been about knowing things and referencing them at will. What it's been about, actually, is implementing that which I already know, and this, my friends, is where I fall short.

So very short.

Why. Why? I ask myself this all the time. Why? I won't bemoan my faults. They are legion and plus most of you know them already. You know how I do so well only to go off the rails on a crazy train. How I consistently fall short. You're probably as frustrated as I am. I'm sorry for that.

My food is dictated by my emotions. If someone hurts me I either starve or I eat. Either way it's a punishment of self; a kind of affirmation of what's been externally laid upon me. It's so much uglier that way, when we do it to ourselves.

Believe me, I know.

I've had a long standing eating disorder. I like to tell people I don't "practice" this eating disorder anymore, mainly because I don't want them to worry. But urges never leave you, not really. I imagine it's the same for an alcoholic or someone who gambles compulsively. Maybe they "practice" restraint, but inwardly they always have that particular Achilles heel. They are always aware of that ever-present skulking shadow of who they could be.

Because they know what they're capable of.

Me too. For real. Me too. I was bulimic for many years. That's hard to say out loud or in print. It's a distasteful condition and I absolutely get that. Mine was different by degree, I suppose: I purged but I did not binge. It was all about austerity. About a kind of punishment, I think. And a kind of control.

I constructed a "box" filled with things I allowed myself to eat --- healthy things, good things, unrealistic things. The only problem was that the box got smaller and smaller, ceaselessly. Soon it was a dot and not a box. Soon no food actually lived within that box, only woe, only judgment. I could eat nothing. Everything I did put into my mouth was a transgression; something I felt deeply. Painfully.

Until I got rid of it.

I'm smart, I'll tell you that right now. I know a lot of you think I'm vain but in actuality I'm not. In fact I'm egregiously demure in a lot of ways, as well as unsure to a fault. However, I know I'm smart. What I'm saying is: I know how to eat. I have all the books. I've done all the research. It's not rocket science, people.

Believe it or not I'm actually passionate (and well educated) about good nutrition. It's just that this information never seems to extend to me. Just other people. I feed them, I make sure they're well. But me?

Starve, bitch.

Pay, bitch.

Why. Why. Why? Don't make me go to my father. Honestly, just don't. I don't want to. God that's dark. It's hard to even sit with, here in this room.

Don't make me go to my mother either, or the hell she went through, the price she paid for simply being alive. Or the evil she did and never acknowledged.

Don't let me go to my brother, please, because to me he is a Man Among Men. The prototype. Don't make me go to him though, to the loneliness, to all that we shared and witnessed together; two children huddled together in the dark. Don't let me go to the abandonment when he left me. Don't make me feel that.

That's why. It's why. Why! I have been to countless therapists. I've ripped open my person; I've spilled out these things to them, each one. Yet none of them have helped. I've charmed the lot of them; I've been such a good girl on that couch. Because I am a good girl, see? I am a good person. I am someone who wants to be the best for all the best reasons.

Still, I'm woefully incapable. They never saw it. They bought into the intellect. They bought into the smile. They thought it meant wellness. They thought it meant I was well!

But I've never been well.

Oh I'm sorry, folks. This will probably be down come morning, because it's all too raw and too disclosing to share. But it's also the damned truth. I like telling the truth, even when it pains me. I figure somebody out there will read it and they'll relate on some level. Maybe we'll commiserate. Maybe that's why I'm here. I wish I knew.

Ok, perhaps in actuality I have no answers, only more questions. I only know that I want to be what I believe I can be. She's such a grand person, this woman I see in my mind. I want to be just like her.

Is there some kind of way?

Keeping Track

Yesterday, hummus with cucumber and tomato on whole grain flat bread crackers. Twice. Coffee. Some water.

Today, hummus with cucumber and tomato, spinach salad with chicken, bleu cheese, oil & vinegar dressing, one glass of wine.

Vitamins both days (Reliv) with coconut oil.

...Just marking my progress, ya'alls.

Og say food good

When eating is a chore, you know there's a bigger problem

I think part of the problem here is that eating has begun to feel a bit like a chore, at least when I am home. "Oh dear, now I have to go and get the blender out, and the juice, and the fruit, and the coconut oil. Oh, now I have to mix it all up and then I have to drink it."

I put it off indefinitely because I'd rather be doing something else. Then what happens? I find myself at 5pm either faint or really hungry. When you're faint you'll shove anything in your mouth to make it go away; same goes when you're hungry.

Today I was in the middle of watching my taped The Bachelor: After The Rose (priorities, ppl) and I knew I had to eat. I was ravenous. I also knew I'd "started over", which in my case means, well, eating. And eating well. But it was such a good Bachelor! I couldn't believe what I was seeing! I didn't want to leave!

But I'd started over.

Sometimes I think I like being hungry. Or I like denying myself in some way; it's like control. Maybe it's an outward expression of something going on inside of me, something ambiguous I cannot define and which I'm only now beginning to perceive. I don't know. I have wrestled with eating disorders in the past; it would not surprise me if there was a distorted emotional component charging this whole thing.

In any case, I ultimately made a spinach salad with seeds and some chicken breast. I ate it all. I felt better instantly, and in a lot of ways.

And then I finished After The Rose.

My God, did you people see that?

Starting Over

I haven't been taking care of myself.

It wasn't that long ago (early summer?) that my body began telling me things I should and should not eat, and I listened. I grew my own tomatoes, my own herbs, my own cucumbers. I ate homemade hummus and crowned it with my very own harvest. I drank water and stopped drinking coffee because it literally made me sick. As did all alcohols. I ate spinach every day, as well as a variety of seeds and nuts, and cut out all meat (not on principle, but because my body literally phased those things out).

I was...healthy. I actually felt good.

Oh how the Crystals have fallen. Ever since my first surgery I have, for the most part, forgotten to eat. It's not driven by some misbegotten need to be thin, but rather a complete disregard for self, as well as an inappropriate focus on things of less importance. In other words, Crystal became secondary. Why feed and nurture my own body? Everything seemed wrong in my life, so why not my nutrition, too?

I didn't care.

On the train home the other day I had an intuitive flash, such as some of you know I do. It was of a fruit smoothie, believe it or not, with coconut oil in it. Benign, I'm sure you're thinking: maybe she was just hungry. But I wasn't. And it wasn't the visual that was important, but the feeling in my na'au (as we say in Hawaii), or spiritual gut, that was most relevant. And also frightening.

It was a warning.

I must get this back on track. My health is precarious because I have now made it so, along with the myriad procedures, etc., I have suffered in the last half year or so. Now I must undertake a nutritional intervention on myself. I have to go all-in again, becoming completely proactive, because if I don't, grim things may very well trickle down the pike in my direction. I do not want this.

You may think this is superstition but it's not. See, our bodies talk to us all the time. They tell us we need water, or minerals, or iron, etc. It's just that we don't listen, and in my case, I purposely stopped listening. Now look at me: my jeans all sag, my face is pale and there's no glow on my cheeks, at least compared to what used to be.

And so, today, I start again.

Three days I'd rather not live over, thanks.

I knew it was coming.

I knew at some point I'd be put in a situation where I would have to eat the kinds of food I used to eat, that being meat, mayonnaise, french fries, etc. I had put it off for a long time. When going out I'd eat very little, or just bread, always making sure to eat beforehand or after. It's been nearly three months that I've been a vegetarian. Not because of some rabid perspective about it, but because it feels better to me and I genuinely like it. Also, should the case arise and I want to eat meat, I will definitely eat meat. It's just that the case hasn't really arisen ... until this weekend.

I was out all weekend, at bars with friends, at bars listening to bands, and then one final hoorah at home with guests in celebration. The first night out I had a "veggie sandwich" which consisted of gross white bread buns, sauteed mushrooms with mozzarella and some fried peppers. I had to eat it because I also had a cosmopolitan (first time I'd had hard liquor in as long as I've been a vegetarian) (Wait! I forgot about those two sidecars!). I was sick all night. I felt awful the next day, too, and that's when I went to see a band I know play. I had too much to drink and fell down in the parking lot, cutting my knee. I didn't even drink that much! I also had french fries, I think, and the next day paid for it dearly. My body was screaming no! no! to all the food and alcohol I'd consumed. I woke up feeling guilty and broken.

And then yesterday at the in-home party, we barbecued "hawaiian style" chicken (which btw, is fabulous) and ate it with mac salad (Hawaii staple) and white rice. I didn't eat a lot and in fact had been drinking filtered water with lemon all day (this cleans the liver). Still, as soon as I ate it I got sick and I mean sick.

Know what I learned? It's just not worth it to go back. Know what else I learned? That's the kind of jazz I was eating and drinking all the time before, and look what it does to the body! Look how the body rejects it!

I will always allow for the occasional dietary deviation -- but never again will I do it three days in a row. It will take me all week to feel strong and whole again.