A few weeks ago I made a somewhat severe dietary change.  There were reasons for it. Many many reasons.  Health.  Energy.  Vanity.  Age.  The fact that half my fucking clothes don’t fit.

I’ve been dragging for ages.  Not sleeping.  No energy.  Grumpy.  Yes, you heard me.  I’ve been grumpy.

So I needed a change, and to do that I needed a strict set of guidelines, otherwise… well let’s face it, even if we tell ourselves it’s an every once in a while treat, if you buy that bag of cheese puffs and that 12-pack of coke… they’re going to get consumed.  As is the bread.  Bagels.  Pizza.  Hash-browns.  Casserole.  Tacos…

I could have gone crazy and cut every bad thing in my diet out.  I could chew on twigs and berries morning, noon, and night and call it good  Except that wouldn’t be good, people.

That wouldn’t be good at all.

Food is this huge part of human condition.  We eat to stay alive.  We eat to be comforted.  We eat to be social.  We eat to indulge.  We eat food because it tastes awesome.  But sometimes the comforting, social, indulgent, awesome aspects of food get in the way of staying alive, or at least our health.  Both physical and mental.

And it was with all that in mind, and the hope that I could fit back into my favorite jeans, that I decided to change the way I eat.

Again.

And instead of eating only twigs and berries I thought I would go with something a little more sustainable, something my doctor had encouraged me to try years ago when  a blood sugar test that came back too high (it turned out to be a blip).  Cut out all those yummy, delicious, amazingly pointless processed carbs and sugars.

Try it for a few months. I told myself.  What can it hurt? I asked myself.  After a week something wonderful happened.  It kind of snuck up on me.  No I’m not talking about a mom pal asking me if I’d lost weight because she thought my ass looked great…

I’m talking about sleep.  Sleeping.  Snoozing.  Resting.  Dreaming.  And waking up refreshed with enough energy to make it through my crazy day without a nap.  Without yawning every few minutes.  Without being grumpy and hostile and so tired I just wanted to fall apart.

I never expected changing my diet to help me sleep.  So what, I told myself, it could be anything.  And then yesterday while hanging out with my brother I decided I needed ice cream.  Chocolate ice cream to be exact.  And there we were next the the Ben & Jerry’s and I found myself sucking down a glorious super duper chocolatey milk shake.  Oh. My. Fuck.  It was good.  For a few minutes.  While I was eating it.

And then I was hyper.  And then I was grumpy.  And then I wasn’t hungry for my delicious dinner.  And then I was tired, but I still had stuff to do.  And then when I finally got in bed to lay down I couldn’t fall asleep.  For the first time in weeks.  So I just lay there with my mind turning over and over again and again being awake for far too long.  And when I finally did fall asleep?  I woke up a couple of hours later.  And a couple of hours after that.  And after that it was just time to drag my groggy ass out of bed.

So… lesson learned?  Maybe.  I’m not entirely sure it was that milk shake… but given how much I’ve enjoyed my couple of weeks of blissful, productive, amazing sleep… I don’t think I’m willing to risk it at the moment.

So the diet change continues, just don’t mess with my booze…