I had heard stories about the brutal jolt that is the first few days of the Whole30 so I eased one eye open at a time. I didn’t feel too bad.
I had some eggs and fruit for breakfast and ran out the door. Then I ran back inside the house and locked myself in the bathroom, not to emerge until my lunch meetings.
I was a little concerned that when I went out I wouldn’t be able to eat something compliant. Before I left the house I spent a few minutes making sure the menu offered something I could modify into an approved recipe. I ended up ordering an amazing Cobb salad with no dairy or tortilla strips, and had a basic balsamic and olive oil dressing on the side. It was actually pretty easy.
The hard part was trying not to stare at the most juicy, incredible, burgers and fries and gravy and ketchup like a complete creep. Oh man. All the glistening meat and angelic, fluffy, cloud-like buns…
“She’s staring at it again. Like leaning in and staring. She’s breathing on me. Kat. You don’t want this.” said my very supportive friends in their best supportive voices, looking to me like giant talking burgers.
I was feeling achey and cranky by dinner, and started barking at people randomly which I’m assuming is completely normal. I wasn’t hungry in the least. I just wanted to stuff my kid’s leftover PB&J crust in my mouth like it was some rare delicacy.
I caught myself thinking “…it’s ok. It’s only a month. And then you can go back to eating the way you used to.”
Really? Then what’s the point of this, Genius?
I fell into a deep, troubled sleep.
I woke up in the middle of the night with my stomach sounding like some kind of loud humidifier. It was sloshing around nonstop and kept gurgling menacingly. I felt awful. I wanted nothing more than a bowl of rice or something to ease my intense nausea. I didn’t have a chance however because I barely made it to the bathroom.
This can’t be normal, I thought— the fatigue, the violently overactive digestive system, the complete rejection of all the healthy stuff I’d been putting in there and the intense cravings for sugar and pasta.
I lay on a towel on the bathroom floor for almost 3 hours waiting for my body to catch up with the evacuation plan.
I finally made it back to bed, shaking, cold sweating, and a couple hours later I tentatively swallowed bites of banana. The only other food I put into my body today was a few plain, boiled potatoes.
Tomorrow is another day, though, and I am already feeling so much better. Still—what the hell is in our food that we actually have severe detox symptoms when we don’t eat it for a few days?!
I realize now that there is no way I can go back. I don’t know what that means exactly, but I do know that I’m not going through this again.