My Mind And Body Are In Cahoots

I stuff myself with pizza and then gorge on anxiety. 

Each slice is a downward step. Why? Well, it is not a body issue. I know it will not be a regular occurrence. I am confident that it will not have such a knock-on effect that I never work out again and decide to only eat pizza. The pizza is a release. It is the soles of your shoes finally ripping off. New pair of shoes, firmer grip, rinse and repeat. Everyone needs that pressure lifted, especially when you live, eat and or exercise strictly. How often do you see that a classy, sophisticated person with considerable power needs to be dominated sexually? Humiliated, treated like scum. They must relinquish control, and if they get an orgasm in the meantime, then even better.

It feels biological. Well, biology mixed with my mental health. See, I associate stomach issues with my anxiety and vice versa. I burp when I'm anxious, and when I have stomach issues, I become anxious. When I am anxious, I feel jittery, and I am jittery when I drink too much coffee. It is almost funny when you feel it coming. When the burping starts, you half-smile to yourself, "Oap, am I anxious? Oh, wait a second. YES, in fact, I am anxious! yass." Bad food does this to me. I know there is some talk on not labelling any foods as 'bad', but I don't subscribe to that shit. Some foods are bad for you; they are bad. By all means, eat them now and then because we do bad things now and then.

 The partnership food and my mind hold appear frustrating. So utterly limited, devoid of freedom. For me, the stakes seem too high. Unhealthy food choices seem to fuck me more than others, or I am pretty weak-minded. Come to mention it, I am very weak-minded. It doesn't take much for my dominos to start toppling over, resulting in me ordering a Dominos continuing the ever-present, reversible cycle. I eliminate food. If for whatever reason, I feel anxious one day and I happen to have had a piece of food I do not usually have, that food doesn't exist to me anymore. I am spiteful towards it; wholemeal rice is the latest addition to the long list of food I have decided gives me anxiety. I am a nut job. Now, let me tell you why I love my cunt mind. 

I believe in punishment. I think that when I leave my bike chained up with my keys still in it, that my bike should be stolen, and I should not get it back. (An example very close to my heart.) When I lose my wallet, no one should pick it up and take it to a police station. When I have a flat inspection, and my room is a fucking hurricane, no one should help me clean. Strangely, I feel this way despite absolutely despising convention. However, this is a convention I have completely made up; I am following my orders. If I eat a chocolate waffle and then feel shite, good. Fucking good. If this is the way it is, then I will embrace it and let me tell you this, why try and change it? Why strengthen my mind to be more welcoming to poison? My body freaks out when I eat dirt, but that is because it is used to such a clean diet. I am shoving gas into an electric car, and I am grateful it breaks down. This is important, so I must repeat myself- Bad food makes me feel shite because my body is so used to good food. I get it; unhealthy food doesn't make everyone feel terrible. If you eat clean 99% of the time, though, it will. I'll tell you a story…..a fictional story. 

So, let us imagine there is a man who works for Tesco. He does the bakery, and every morning he sees a freshly defrosted (maybe an oxymoron) brownie staring at him. You best believe he eats that brownie every single morning. He eats the brownie and occasionally puts out the croissants; the smell is too overwhelming. He shoves the croissant down his throat before his boss can see him chew. They place the bakery near the store's front door, so the smell provides a cloud of temptation to all incoming customers, yet here is this employee receiving some friendly fire. Fast forward one year, and this man has decided to go on a diet for the first time in his life. You should have seen the tits on these brownies. The man was on his knees, holding down a semi for the first week or so, but soon enough, the diet took over. The brownie disappeared like Marty McFly in his family photo. The bakery smell even subsided, only returning the day after the first dirty, dirty cheat meal. His dormant former self waggling its finger- it lives. 

Alright, fuck it. This was not the plan, but OK; I guess I'll need to finally tackle 'diet culture' and all the hate that it gets. First of all, I agree with the majority of the complaints. I'll throw in gym culture as well. So, the UNSUSTAINABLE diets and the UNSUSTAINABLE 5% body-fat kings. As I mentioned earlier, I am all for the villainization of food. Yano that Limmy sketch where he decides one day to be a right bad bastard? Trips people up, stand on the back of their shoes? That is fiiiiiiiiiiiiine. Be a right bad bastard, have that big fuck off pizza pizza pizza. But know, you are a right bad bastard. Laugh about it, and then the next day, try and not be a right bad bastard - resist the reemerging brownie. (WHEN EDITING THIS, THINK OF PARAGRAPH TOPIC HEADERS ETC, DON'T BE SO ALL OVER THE PLACE. WHAT IS THE POINT OF THE BLOG?) I don't need to see photos of guys or girls showing their bloated stomachs after a meal to make me feel better; I know my body is trimmer in the morning than post-meal. But, if you need that education, then fair play. Because that is the issue, education. Uneducated on why crash course diets do not work, uneducated on why people look so good in photos- editing, lighting, angles, and of course steroids. This is corny, but it is true; diet culture is harmful because you shouldn't be on many diets in your life. You should have one successful one and have a maintenance phase. If you choose to then bulk or go on another fat loss diet, then cool, but the LIFESTYLE CHANGE (the corny part) is important. Any cunt can starve themselves for a month, get abs, and then put on two stones. However, the hatred of diet culture is often flawed. The response to diets that are way too restrictive and only last three or four weeks is not to completely dismiss diets. The diets you hate are diets that do not work. They do not build bodies or minds capable of sustaining progress because they are too hard. I'll sum up because I am rambling big time. 

I enjoy the fact my mental health and my diet are so connected and dependent on one another. I like how my body looks; I'm still shocked that I have abs considering I genuinely thought abs were a genetic disposition. I also like it when my mental health is not a problem. What helps the most is that I am a robot with food, with zero appreciation for taste except takeaways. And even then, the most you'll get out of me is "aye, it was nice."

So granted, I am a bit of a weirdo, but I think the results are advantageous.