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Still on the Warpath: Naiadknight's Battle Tome

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  • Merry Christmas to you and yours as well, Donna!
    I have my 6 month appt at the doc tomorrow. We'll see what the bloodwork has to say. I'm honestly curious as to whether it was sulfite inflammation keeping my cholesterol high and some of my other numbers out of whack. I might see if I can get her to do a CRP test as well, to see if I'm still pissing my body off somehow, given that I've significantly lowered my sulfite intake. I just need to see when I'm supposed to go in...
    Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
    My Latest Journal

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    • Went to the doc and saw the vampire. Weight is officially down to 114.2, by their scale (after subtracting 5 lb for clothes.) Pulse has fallen from 90-98 to 78 in the course of the past 3 months. Blood pressure was my regular 109/ 69 (factoring nerves for being at the doc, I'm rather proud of that.) Doc's saying she should have the vampire report by tomorrow and will phone me my results, at which point, I'll go in and pick up my copy (I hope) or have it mailed if not.
      Not bad for sleeping like shit last night.
      Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
      My Latest Journal

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      • Merry Christmas!
        Primal since 9/24/2010
        "Our greatest foes, and whom we must chiefly combat, are within." Miguel de Cervantes

        Created by MyFitnessPal.com - Free Weight Loss Tools
        MFP username: MDAPebbles67

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        • Thanks for the Christmas wishes, Paula!
          I posted a few goals in the New Year's Resolution thread, and finally drew up a one page compilation of what's safe to eat and what's not. I guess it's time to throw it all together.
          I rarely make true New Year's Resolutions. Those always seem like a set up for failure to me.
          That said, there are a few goals/ ideas I'm aiming for as of a couple days ago.
          1) This one is dependent on the district, but if I can get to where I'm only at the one campus, I have a goal not to drive there at all. It's all of a mile away, 15 minutes on foot, 10 on bike, depending on traffic. Also, if I need to pick up groceries after work and it's viable to carry it home, I will.
          2) Maintain the minimal sulphite paleo diet I need to do well. Not 80/ 20 by choice, either, but by forced lack of choice (eating at the in laws, etc.)
          3) Get my teaching certification.
          4) Continue my work on mental stability, anxiety, and releasing the past. It'll be a long hard slog, but it's been worth it so far. Likely won't ever "finish"this, but even a step is a step better.
          5) NOT lose anymore weight. They don't make clothes much smaller than I wear that aren't kids clothes, and I can only get my size at 5 shops in the area.
          6) Survival Fitness: It won't happen in a year, but I'd like to better reinforce the physical fitness I would need to survive a life and death situation. Outrunning something, climbing a tree, hauling myself or someone else up off a cliff, that type of thing.
          And the food list:
          SAFE
          Beef
          Chicken, rinsed
          Pork
          Chocolate
          Uncured bacon, ham, and sausage
          Lamb
          All fresh vegetables
          -EXCEPT grapes, salmon, asparagus, and uncooked garlic and onion
          -Green leafy veggies should be organic and washed
          All organic or peeled fresh fruits
          All fats
          -EXCEPT shortening, canola, cottonseed, and soybean oil
          Unbleached, unenhanced flour
          Cane sugar
          Unbleached corn tortillas and chips (check for questionable ingredients)
          Honey
          Unsulfured molasses
          cider, malt, and rice vinegars
          Stout beers
          Coconut (fresh, flour, and oil)
          Unbleached rice


          UNSAFE
          Wheat in any form
          Wine/ wine vinegars
          Sulfured molasses
          Cheese
          Cured and processed meats
          Canned anything
          Shrimp,salmon, and shellfish
          Dried fruit (unless specifically labeled sulfite free)
          Processed corn anything
          -corn starch, corn syrup, baking powder, caramel, powdered sugar, dextrose, maltodextrose, maltodextrin, dextrin, gluose, fructose, invert sugar, Mono- and di- glycerides, starch and modified food starch, xanthan/ xanthum gum, to name the biggies. If you can't see the corn, I can't have it.
          Fermented foods
          Black tea and coffee
          Soy
          Gelatin
          Vitamin added dairy
          Coloring, especially artificial and caramel
          iodized salt
          Citric acid, lemon/ lime concentrate, anything ending in -ose or -sulfite, sulfur dioxide, yeast
          Processed potatoes (potato flakes, frozen french fries... if it doesn't start with a whole potato, I can't have it.)


          There are a few things still under test, like green tea and eggs, those'll get added over time.
          Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
          My Latest Journal

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          • Also, these next couple weeks, I'm gonna give freezer cooking a whirl. I don't mean all casseroles or nukables, but do as much prep work ahead of time as I can. We're lucky that our schedule means we only eat 5 meals at home a week (no lunch, and we eat dinner with friends on Game Night and at the in- laws on Sunday Night.) I also have it rigged that Mondays are always leftover day. That means I really only need 8 meals, plus a few nukables/ quick meals. In the next week, we'll have roast chicken and salads, chicken curry, Phillies, puerco rojo. The week after that is chicken alfredo, steak and shrimp, stir fry, and jambalaya. Quick food is cooked chix tits, spag sauce, and hot dogs/ sausages. Most of those mean heating it up in some way, maybe making some rice or pasta. Others are crock pot specials. A couple will mean actually cooking it, but everything will already be chopped and measured. Making it this way means that I can stop by during lunch, pull out the bag(s) to thaw, and have everything ready to go when I get home.
            Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
            My Latest Journal

            Comment


            • There was a post in NW's journal about body image and part of her journey. It gave me the courage to share my journey and my views.
              In terms of how my body looks, I've never "looked right," according to the prevailing society. As a kid, I was a rail skinny little girl with a cape of blond hair and the whitest skin this side of albinism. I grew up where the barrio meets the ghetto, where there was a certain pride in darker skin and hair, where being skinny meant your folks were so poor you couldn't eat enough. Up until recently, I thought those social prevalences and teasing had no effect on me. Looking back, I don't think it had any outward effect, save that I wasn't happy to be skinny. I wanted more than anything to weigh more than I did. There were times that I privately asked God to send me some weight or a way to get fat. I couldn't eat enough to keep the weight on. The teasing, my parents' wallet, the style at the time, and my mother's tastes meant that I was usually wearing clothes a size or two larger than I was because they were hand me downs from a heavier cousin or so I would grow into them. That didn't help. I now looked like a skinny little rail playing dress up in her mama's clothes.
              Middle school was the peak of the teasing. I got teased for everything: being one of the smart kids at the magnet school inside the normal school, being skinny, being white, being blonde, being from Oak Cliff, being "poor,".... like I said, everything. I think that was also where my fathers' relationship with alcohol went south and some bad stuff went down at home, which didn't help. There was a six weeks where I failed math, science, and it must have been a miracle I didn't fail history.
              High school came and I was no longer anywhere near as much of an outcast. My school was a school for smart kids and science nerds from across the district. Mentally, I belonged. There were still social groups, and by and large, they still fell along larger dividing lines: The black kids, the Hispanic kids, the North Dallas white, the robotics and comp sci team (our football team), and the ragtag team I hung out with that didn't fit in any of those. I found kids who had a similar background and knew my pain. My little group of best friends were inseparable, except during class. I was still a bit of an outcast, most from lack of socialization. (How are you supposed to get socialized when no one will go near you?) I clawed my way up. I was still the weird kid with the military surplus backpack and clothes two sizes too big from the boys section, but I wasn't the only one. In the dark part of high school with anxiety, PTSD, and depression/ dysthymia, school was the bright light that kept me going many days. I didn't focus too much on my body at that point. I really don't remember much of my thoughts during high school.
              College was where the bottom fell out several times. I wasn't a sorostitute. I was an engineering student. I was flatter than flat until junior year. I still wore clothes two sizes too large. My freshman year, I met the ex that really helped raise my self esteem. With his encouragement, I started wearing clothes that actually fit. He was the one that showed me I was pretty enough to hang out with off campus. His mom loved me and was confident, yet as rail thin and pale as I was. I now had impetus to love myself and quit calling myself "freak." I was on my way to a healthy body image. Then depression took over again. And again. And again. Then said ex changed schools and majors to one across the state, so we pretty much were just fuck buddies. Then I dumped him for the painful ex.
              Painful Ex seemed to delight in tearing down all I had carefully built up. He seemed to take joy in ripping me apart and making me "need" him. That was not a pleasant time in my life. Everything I had fought so hard for in my self esteem and body image went out the window. I went back to men's clothes two sizes too large. Depression and anxiety were major players during that time. I almost switched schools to be with him because I "needed" to be with him. It took a very dear friend to rip my heart out, show me the damage Painful Ex had done, and duct tape it back into place. Said friend may have lived halfway across the state, but he was and still is a very dear friend. I switched back to my old school and swore off guys for a while.
              Fast forward through my first years with Geek and my senior year and a half. I still couldn't believe that someone so handsome and so... not broken could love the worthless piece of shit I called myself. I kept waiting for the bottom to fall out. With his encouragement, I slowly started seeing myself through his eyes, as someone who could have been a model and decided on engineering instead. I started wearing clothes that fit again. With his encouragement, I bought the first coat I ever had that FIT me. I started seeing myself as worthy of love, if not loveable (yes, there's a difference.)
              At our wedding, I wore a dress that hid my flaws by hiding me. Long sleeves, long dress, higher neckline and all with only two seams. I still love that dress, but looking back, it was not a celebration of my body, but rather a compromise between what I would have looked good in and the burlap sack I thought I belonged in.
              After college, I had put on a good 10-15 lb. By my wedding day, I was 2 lb away from medically overweight. I now saw myself as FAT. My self esteem and body image took a huge hit. When I looked in the mirror, all I saw was a Neanderthal Venus, and not in a good way. In a span of a year, I had gone from too skinny to too fat. What was wrong with me?!
              Fast forward several years of paleo and primal. If you want the thoughts on who I was at any given time, check my journals. I finally found my allergy. My weight plummeted. I was still unhappy with my body. I was still too skinny, with too fat bits that were all in the wrong places. Then I wandered back into Al- Anon. There was something an attendee said that really rang a bell: "How can you love someone else before you love yourself?" That hit a little too close to home, so I ducked it. It took Mentor calling me a "gorgeous and smart young lady that refuses to see it" to crack that seal. It took a meeting on love vs. maintenance vs. self preservation to break it the rest of the way. And it took a rededication of self ceremony for me release the rest of that negative body image.
              I still don't see myself as the goddess Geek must see. I don't see myself as the toothpick or fat slob I once saw either. I see what the mirror reflects: a gorgeous young woman with a couple of areas that aren't quite perfect. I'm fine with that. I will never be perfect, because that "perfect" yardstick will keep moving. Perfect is an illusion. Gorgeous is here to stay.
              Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
              My Latest Journal

              Comment


              • Originally posted by naiadknight View Post
                There was a post in NW's journal about body image and part of her journey. It gave me the courage to share my journey and my views.
                In terms of how my body looks, I've never "looked right," according to the prevailing society. As a kid, I was a rail skinny little girl with a cape of blond hair and the whitest skin this side of albinism. I grew up where the barrio meets the ghetto, where there was a certain pride in darker skin and hair, where being skinny meant your folks were so poor you couldn't eat enough. Up until recently, I thought those social prevalences and teasing had no effect on me. Looking back, I don't think it had any outward effect, save that I wasn't happy to be skinny. I wanted more than anything to weigh more than I did. There were times that I privately asked God to send me some weight or a way to get fat. I couldn't eat enough to keep the weight on. The teasing, my parents' wallet, the style at the time, and my mother's tastes meant that I was usually wearing clothes a size or two larger than I was because they were hand me downs from a heavier cousin or so I would grow into them. That didn't help. I now looked like a skinny little rail playing dress up in her mama's clothes.
                Middle school was the peak of the teasing. I got teased for everything: being one of the smart kids at the magnet school inside the normal school, being skinny, being white, being blonde, being from Oak Cliff, being "poor,".... like I said, everything. I think that was also where my fathers' relationship with alcohol went south and some bad stuff went down at home, which didn't help. There was a six weeks where I failed math, science, and it must have been a miracle I didn't fail history.
                High school came and I was no longer anywhere near as much of an outcast. My school was a school for smart kids and science nerds from across the district. Mentally, I belonged. There were still social groups, and by and large, they still fell along larger dividing lines: The black kids, the Hispanic kids, the North Dallas white, the robotics and comp sci team (our football team), and the ragtag team I hung out with that didn't fit in any of those. I found kids who had a similar background and knew my pain. My little group of best friends were inseparable, except during class. I was still a bit of an outcast, most from lack of socialization. (How are you supposed to get socialized when no one will go near you?) I clawed my way up. I was still the weird kid with the military surplus backpack and clothes two sizes too big from the boys section, but I wasn't the only one. In the dark part of high school with anxiety, PTSD, and depression/ dysthymia, school was the bright light that kept me going many days. I didn't focus too much on my body at that point. I really don't remember much of my thoughts during high school.
                College was where the bottom fell out several times. I wasn't a sorostitute. I was an engineering student. I was flatter than flat until junior year. I still wore clothes two sizes too large. My freshman year, I met the ex that really helped raise my self esteem. With his encouragement, I started wearing clothes that actually fit. He was the one that showed me I was pretty enough to hang out with off campus. His mom loved me and was confident, yet as rail thin and pale as I was. I now had impetus to love myself and quit calling myself "freak." I was on my way to a healthy body image. Then depression took over again. And again. And again. Then said ex changed schools and majors to one across the state, so we pretty much were just fuck buddies. Then I dumped him for the painful ex.
                Painful Ex seemed to delight in tearing down all I had carefully built up. He seemed to take joy in ripping me apart and making me "need" him. That was not a pleasant time in my life. Everything I had fought so hard for in my self esteem and body image went out the window. I went back to men's clothes two sizes too large. Depression and anxiety were major players during that time. I almost switched schools to be with him because I "needed" to be with him. It took a very dear friend to rip my heart out, show me the damage Painful Ex had done, and duct tape it back into place. Said friend may have lived halfway across the state, but he was and still is a very dear friend. I switched back to my old school and swore off guys for a while.
                Fast forward through my first years with Geek and my senior year and a half. I still couldn't believe that someone so handsome and so... not broken could love the worthless piece of shit I called myself. I kept waiting for the bottom to fall out. With his encouragement, I slowly started seeing myself through his eyes, as someone who could have been a model and decided on engineering instead. I started wearing clothes that fit again. With his encouragement, I bought the first coat I ever had that FIT me. I started seeing myself as worthy of love, if not loveable (yes, there's a difference.)
                At our wedding, I wore a dress that hid my flaws by hiding me. Long sleeves, long dress, higher neckline and all with only two seams. I still love that dress, but looking back, it was not a celebration of my body, but rather a compromise between what I would have looked good in and the burlap sack I thought I belonged in.
                After college, I had put on a good 10-15 lb. By my wedding day, I was 2 lb away from medically overweight. I now saw myself as FAT. My self esteem and body image took a huge hit. When I looked in the mirror, all I saw was a Neanderthal Venus, and not in a good way. In a span of a year, I had gone from too skinny to too fat. What was wrong with me?!
                Fast forward several years of paleo and primal. If you want the thoughts on who I was at any given time, check my journals. I finally found my allergy. My weight plummeted. I was still unhappy with my body. I was still too skinny, with too fat bits that were all in the wrong places. Then I wandered back into Al- Anon. There was something an attendee said that really rang a bell: "How can you love someone else before you love yourself?" That hit a little too close to home, so I ducked it. It took Mentor calling me a "gorgeous and smart young lady that refuses to see it" to crack that seal. It took a meeting on love vs. maintenance vs. self preservation to break it the rest of the way. And it took a rededication of self ceremony for me release the rest of that negative body image.
                I still don't see myself as the goddess Geek must see. I don't see myself as the toothpick or fat slob I once saw either. I see what the mirror reflects: a gorgeous young woman with a couple of areas that aren't quite perfect. I'm fine with that. I will never be perfect, because that "perfect" yardstick will keep moving. Perfect is an illusion. Gorgeous is here to stay.
                Perfection is an illusion and way overrated. I am glad you that you are in such a good place now.

                Comment


                • Yay Gorgeous

                  Something I didn't cover was my own issues on weight in high school. I was well underweight for the first couple of years, and still under the normal BMI by the time I graduated. I don't think I ever was really at risk for anorexia, but there were times when food felt like a control. That played into my history with self-injury too. I prayed that my body would change, I tried to bargain with whatever might be listening. I now see that as the helplessness of depression, that feeling that way was not how it should have been. I am still angry that nobody realized anything was wrong and that when my parents did intervene, it wasn't enough. I am not sure if they think they did well by me now, but I guess that doesn't really matter. I can only hope to do better with my own kids someday.

                  Sorry for spilling in here
                  Depression Lies

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                  • There was only a brief period in my life where I used food as a control, and I was on these boards when it happened. That is still the reason I point blank refuse to do any of the really proscribed modifications that others do well: sugar detox, whole whatever, very specific allowable daily measurements, etc. I tend to go way to far with those, edging into orthorexia territory.
                    I have no history of self injury. When I was younger, I was afraid of the punishment I would get if I get caught or they saw the scars. My way out in high school and college was to "be strong" until I broke down sobbing over something minute. Even then, I rarely did so anywhere except in private. I have a very vivid memory (in both high school and college) of fleeing to a bathroom stall (pass be damned) when the tears appeared.
                    For quite a while I blamed my folks for my issues. They could have caught it, had they only looked. I wasn't diagnosed until midway through college, and I'm reasonably certain I had depression from middle school and that one six weeks forward. Looking back, I think they were more concerned with the ones that had outward problems, like my mother's depression and Cassie's ADHD/ behavioral issues. My quiet battle stayed under their radar because they had other issues. My father has since told me he suspected my battle, but my mother waved it off, saying I was just stressed. My mother never suspected it, but that doesn't surprise me. I used to blame myself for not seeking help, but I later found out that one my my signs was isolation and withdrawal.
                    There are a couple songs that have become my anthems, ones I wish had existed in college and high school.


                    Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                    My Latest Journal

                    Comment


                    • Hey there. Wow these are extraordinary posts for me to drop in on. I've seen your thoughtful and insightful posts on others threads that I've been reading and finally got to stop by your own journey. I always think the first and most recent pages are a good place to start, and wow, what an introduction that gave me.

                      just wanted to say hello and wish you a wonderful 2014

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                      • Hiya, AT. I think you give me too much credit, but thank you anyways. Happy 2014 to you as well.
                        I think a buddy of ours infected us with the gunk going around. Feels only like a cold so far.
                        Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                        My Latest Journal

                        Comment


                        • Finally got my bloodwork results back. Cholesterol is lower, but still "high." Other factors in the results point to inflammation. Chronic inflammation can jack up LDL and total cholesterol, and jack with other results. I think this is still sulfites wreaking havoc on my system. I wonder how long it'll take to remove 28 years of inflammation...
                          ETA: Google and studies indicate I'll start seeing true long term results in four weeks without inflammation provokers.
                          Last edited by naiadknight; 12-31-2013, 10:19 PM.
                          Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                          My Latest Journal

                          Comment


                          • Happy New Year, MDA! May your 2014 be all you need it to be and may you make all your goals!
                            I've met half of one of mine: I have half my periods graded for the six weeks. Sometime in the next five days, I need to do 3 more. I'll probably do at least one tomorrow while Geek and his Dad replace windows, hopefully more. I still need to plan my teaching schedule...
                            Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                            My Latest Journal

                            Comment


                            • My father in law called at 0930 this morning to do the windows. Mind you, he wasn't supposed to come over until noon. I also have gone back to my natural nocturnal state, meaning I got all of 2 hours of sleep last night.
                              Do you have any fraking idea how hard it is to avoid bread and tortillas when all you want is something warm with butter and jelly on 2 hours of sleep? The only thing that saved my primal ass was seeing sulfited stuff on the ingredients in the GF bread and corn torts. I made do with egg and bacon fluff and salsa.
                              What's egg and bacon fluff, you ask? A cross between an omelette and crustless quiche, cooked on the stovetop. Grab a 6" skillet. Chop up 2 strips of bacon and cook in the skillet until just this side of crispy. Meanwhile, whisk 3 eggs with some pepper. Once the bacon's ready, add the egg. Walk away until the edges are solid. Now, start lifting the sides of the fluff and letting more egg crawl under it to cook. Once you have the majority of it done, flip the entire mass and cook for 30s. Flip it onto a plate. Salsa optional.
                              Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                              My Latest Journal

                              Comment


                              • Lifting the egg mass to get more egg underneath is how my dad taught me to cook omelettes. I fold it in half when the whole thing is almost entirely cooked, just so there's enough goo to seal it and finish the cooking by flipping it a couple times.
                                Depression Lies

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