When my doctor told me three months ago he thought I might be dairy-intolerant, I reacted the way drug addicts react when you try to take away their drug of dependence. It was that reaction that made me think ~ in the beautiful part of my brain that is reasonable and wants always to see what's really there rather than what I want to be there ~ that perhaps he had a point.
I really struggled for a few days with his suggestion that I quit, but because I have been battling health issues for many years, I *finally* decided to take him up on the challenge. While having no idea how on earth I was going to do it.
I've had people suggesting I need to cut out dairy to see if I feel better for years. But I haven't been able to do it until now.
Quitting milk was easy. I always felt creepily weird about drinking milk anyway. But cream and cheese were another story.
It's been about three months since I've cut out dairy. But I decided from the start that if I wanted to have some, that I would. And I have, from time to time. I think it's part of the learning curve. And I think now that my body has finally got a break from this substance that it is now beginning to be able to show me just how much it doesn't like it.
Still, even after how bad I felt today, and the mounting evidence, I'm still not entirely convinced. I sit here observing myself being not entirely convinced and it reminds me of the addictive feeling I had with smoking cigarettes, or weed, or eating sugar, or eating wheat, or all of the other million and one things that are required of a person living nowadays who must face up to the fact that this thing here, seems like it's good for them, but it's not.
It takes people a long time to really understand the force of their addictions, does it not?
I've been rather partial to chocolate eclairs over the years. And over the past three months I've indulged twice. And twice I noticed about four hours afterwards my head would begin clogging up, both in my brain and in my sinuses.
Last night I had a hankering for potatoes dauphinoise. Yum. And so I had them. Pigged out on cheese and milk. Had some Twisties to top it off, while watching the Tour de France.
Is it a coincidence that all day today I have felt fatigued, brainfogged, confused, and achey? And anxious, feeling unable to cope? And depressed, like I wished I was dead? That last bit sounds melodramatic, only it's not. Only melodramatic if you have not experienced it yourself. I have struggled all day to stay focussed. I have weeped over inconsequential tasks that were monumental.
No cheese is worth this. Not even the deliciously cheesy and wonderful Mersey Valley that went on last night's potatoes.
Is it a coincidence that now, about 27 hours after I ate those potatoes I am beginning to feel all of these symptoms start slowly lifting, like a shroud? Symptoms that when they are there feel permanently stuck on, as if they are my skin?
I wonder how many people have suicided from dairy intolerance. That would be funny if there weren't so many fucking people in the world whose immune systems are folding their hands across their chests and saying, "Nup. I've had enough of these toxins and from now on, I'm ramping up the symptoms because you. Are. Dumb. And. Aren't. Listening. You dumbass."
I think finally I am really starting to see with my own eyes, and feel with my own body, what it has been most likely trying to tell me for years. It really does not want to eat dairy.
Chocolate eclairs look pretty difficult to make. But maybe I might give these ones a whirl - gluten-free and I think I will fill the centre with whipped coconut cream. That way I could have my eclair and my sinuses too.
I would like for the synapses in my brain to form a little more quickly - the synapse that starts with a picture of some dairy products on one end, that bypasses my taste buds and goes straight to a picture at the other end of the synapse that is a visual reminder of how hellish I felt today. It's taking a while. Sometimes these things do. Especially when you're a slow learner like me ;)