Have any of you – out there blogging in the universe – ever noticed how bloody difficult it is to start a post?
This clearly has nothing to do with what I’m about to delve into, but I noticed that I spent like 30 minutes trying to come up with some “catchy” intro – only to land here – admitting my utter defeat to the intro paragraph.
I lothe introductions and pleasantries. So, Happy Sunday – all the jazz. Hope it’s been a good one. Etc. Etc.
Now, let’s proceed:
DISCLAIMER: I’m covering a topic today that I’ve never seen mentioned in the eating disorder world, and I’m interested to see how you respond. Bash it, critique it, relate to it, I’m open to all feedback (except, like, hateful 1,000-character rants. Then, I’ll just stop reading and repeat over and over to myself “people will love and hate you and none of it has anything to do with you.”)
Anyway, there’s this cultural mantra we live by: “80/20 dieting.” Goes something like – you eat “clean” (i.e. arbitrary set of often mishmashed food rules) through the week, and then you can go ape-shit on the weekend and eat whatever mounds of processed crap you feel like consuming.
I’m not a fan of this system. I’m not a fan of any system – and not in the RA-RA I’m some Joan of Arc way, but because I’ve tried that mentality. Hell, I’ve tried every “clean diet” mentality – and none of it worked for long before I inevitably wound up elbows deep in sugary cereal, binge eating my brains out underneath the covers of my childhood bed. (Ohhh how I don’t miss the days of waking up in a pit of smashed cereal bits, rolling around on top of them in my sheets.)
Because today, I’m not writing about the 80/20 mentality. What I’d rather focus on is the opposite, little known phenomenon I’ll deem as “weekend anorexia.” Maybe “Satorexia?” “Sundarexia?” (I mean if doctors can call an eating disorder ‘drunkorexia’ then Sundaerexia seems like a cinch.)
It goes something like this:
Saturday, I laid in bed till close to 11:00am.
Went to Michael Franti at Red Rocks on Friday. Heaven, as that magical venue always is. As shows do, we stayed – swaying in the wind – until midnight and went to bed around 2:00am.
In turn, I slept late.