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Health Food Junkie
| Open Poetry #46 |
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Health Food Junkie |
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Mistletoe Angel 
since 2000-12-17
Posts 32816Portland, Oregon |
(I was inspired to re-post this over-the-top epic that pokes fun at myself and my diagnosis of Orthorexia Nervosa (a fixation on eating minimally to non-processed foods and avoiding all processed foods) today........after reading this latest article from the Guardian that suggests that anyone who chooses to eat healthy foods regularly is "mentally diseased". I believe, when ones heart is conscious, ones choice can only be pure, and my health has been excellent lately as I remain an orthoretic each day. But just for giggles, here's an example of a hypothetical case of Orthorexia Nervosa gone out of control!  )* Health Food Junkie By: Lisping Hibiscus 6/24/07 Back where I came from, they called me Mister Natural, but lately my lifestyle has tailspun out of control, since I’ve plead zero tolerance to syrups and trans-fats, and I’ve stopped drinking cow’s milk since I heard of Posilac. The turning point began in the spring of 2005, when I read in Nature an article that caught my eye, that FDA panels that write each drug’s usage guidelines, had someone linked to drug companies three-fourths of the time. That really got me thinking of where all my food comes from, So I said, “Yo Trader Joe’s, bye Winn-Dixie and Tom Thumb!” I emptied out my cupboards and said, “Everything must go, from these Taquitos and Fritos, to those glazed donut holes.” I rinsed some of my vegetables and fired up my wok, and then thought aloud, “Listen up, Andrew von Eschenbach, when it comes to nutrition, I will be my own top dog, now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll treat myself to some saag baag!” So each weekend I go to the Portland Farmers Market, to purchase locally-grown vegetables and hulled millet, I purchase shiitakes from Misty Mountain Mushrooms, and Tahiti Traders hand-squeezes a mean Nori juice. Rick Steffen Farm is where I buy my broccoli and bok choy, some ranchers must think when picking hazelnuts I’m Rob Roy, the way I march across the whole Willamette countryside, with my hair dyed red and duty gleaming in my eyes. The summer squash is always ripe at Pitkin Winterrowd’s, its savor sets me floating on some magellanic cloud, the D’anjou pears have quite a golden glow at Gala Springs, and serve the most piquant, raw Walla Walla onion rings. I head to Kaleng Produce for my fix on persimmons, (Bet’cha you were expecting me to say “Richard Simmons”) and who could forget Springwater Farm’s fresh rutabagas, packed with so much folate you’ll master each game of Jenga. Even religion always had a place at suppertime, breaking my bread with whole grain Genesis 1:29®, topping off the feast of the tabernacles with brown rice, and English muffins brought forth by Ezekiel 4:9®. Everything finally seemed to be in perfect order, lowering my risk of every digestive disorder, my blood pressure was 114 over 65, and I had more vigor than a Tanzanian beehive. Then one day at Wild Oats I entered a rash phase, when they had a 2 for 1 deal of Show Me The Whey, at first I didn’t trust dietary food supplements, but I was impressed by the advertisement’s silk screen print. Yet I stroked my chin, thinking to myself, “Do I dare?”, then I felt someone tap my shoulder, saying, “Why stop there?”, I turned around and with awe squealed, “Holy Tamagotchi, it’s the Flimsy, Whimsy Kimchi Twins, Kyung-hee & Kyoung-mi!” “That’s right!” said Kyoung-mi, “we’re not like Snap, Crackle and Pop, or that Toucan Sam that follows his nose to your chops, forget those diabetic despots, we are the real deal, we even fight avian flu, most once thought that surreal!” “You’re right!” I responded, “I don’t know, guys….I guess….I just, am not sure where to turn to now, don’t know who I can trust!” then I saw approaching a priest most congenial, why, it was the son of Buzi himself: Ezekiel. He exclaimed, “The fathers keep on eating their sour grapes, and keep setting the children’s teeth on edge with their disdain, have you not understood one single thing I’ve tried to say, now go, and take unto thee my grains and Show Me The Whey.” Then he paced to the next aisle to purchase some dog food, I thought, “Well, if Ezekiel said it, it must be true!” “Indubitably,” said Kyung-hee, “sure as Napa cabbage, fermented and soaked with vitamins and lactic acid!” So I started reading some David Wolfe and Euell Gibbons, seeking the fruitarian’s prestigious blue ribbon, and I proclaimed, “As Norman H. Walker is my witness, I’ll lead a saintly life of raw food and intense fitness!” Since my Frosted Flakes have been flavored with GMO’s, I enjoy a steaming bowl of Kashi’s buckwheat groats, Lord knows I don’t want to eat that StarLink transgenic maize, so I share my last laugh with a handful of medjool dates. Instead of sugar, I stir tea with agave nectar, and I frequently chat on-line with the health food rectors, the only ice cream I eat is La Loo’s black mission fig, and my favorite dessert’s cranberry jubilee trail mix. I drink aloe vera juice and Zhera’s Gypsy tea, and keep my liver healthy bathing in milk thistle seed, I disinfect my scabs with swabs of Uva ursi leaves, and feast on calendula flowers for immunity. My produce is grown less than ten miles from my plate, I buy all my provisions from Alter Eco Fair Trade, my rooibos tea comes solely from the Bokkeveld plateau, in Northern Cape, South Africa, where it natively grows. My commune colleagues now say I’ve developed a new musk, must be from consuming so much kelp and psyllium husk, my act’s underwent pseudospiritual connotations, each day feels as holy as an Easter congregation. But when I slip up I feel an urge to seek penitence, making my diet stricter and capping myself a dunce, priding myself over kitchen spirituality, but friends had now accused me of irrationality. They said, “We need to talk, you’re looking quite anorexic, treating calorie constraint as something homiletic, please note we think highly of you, we’re quite sympathetic, but we’re worried you treat eating pure as some aesthetic. And I said, “No, I won’t wave the white flag to Monsanto, I’d rather listen to Air Supply in Esperanto, I won’t suck up to the drollery of the FDA, who arm-wrangle with pharmaceutical peddlers each day!” And my friends said, “Hey, buddy, we share your concerns as well, balance is the key to life, so on that note we impel, that you head on down to Food Front and get some wholesome snacks, like banana chips, Zen Party mix, Sol Pops and pecans. You see, not only do they make their food organically, their food also contains all the nutrients that you need, we are your friends and know deep down you’re no health food junkie, we believe “Mr. Natural” is your true destiny!” So I bought some of Luna & Larry's Coconut Bliss, revisiting a taste I felt no guilt indulging in, so now you won’t have to say, “Good Lord, have pity on me!” cuz I’ve found balance in my diet, let’s hear it for me! "If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other" Mother Teresa |
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| © Copyright 2010 Nadia Lockheart - All Rights Reserved | |||
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The Sky is Imagination Junior Member
since 2010-07-09
Posts 25OK, US |
Pretty funny! I agree that eating healthy can only be good for you. It's amusing (and kinda mindblowing) to see that someone could think that eating healthy foods often, or always, is bad for you. |
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latearrival Member Ascendant
since 2003-03-21
Posts 5499Florida |
Have to come back so I can read this at one sitting.Love your posts so I know I will enjoy this.latearrival |
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