So, I have had wonderful backlash from my last post (and it’s certainly not the first post I’ve ever gotten backlash from, haha). It’s okay, I don’t write to make anyone happy. I’ve never been accused of being “nice,” that’s for sure!
But I can also take a step back and say yes, my “health” thoughts are a bit extreme (possibly). Especially to anyone who hasn’t researched much about health, it’s even more irrational and ridiculous.
I am not trying to say, at all, that people who are not as paranoid about their health – the food they put into their bodies, the chemicals in their soaps or couches, etc., etc., - do not care about themselves, their children, etc.
Basically, I’m saying I am this crazy paranoid due to my absolute fear (it may be rational, it may not be) of dying and leaving my children all alone. And dying from something I directly could have prevented like I bought the cancer couch or I ate the whole bag of type 2 diabetes cookies or whatever. That scare the bejeezus out of me.
So just because someone eats Oreos (I do!) or buys their kid a happy meal, it does not mean they don’t care. Maybe they don’t know better. Maybe they do know better but they are on a time crunch (been there), or they are sick of hearing their kids whine (done that), or they just know that eating it occasionally probably isn’t going to do a ton of damage in the long run (that, too!). Or maybe they legitimately don’t believe there is anything wrong with it. Or maybe they can’t afford to buy all in season organic produce and free range chicken and grass-fed beef, etc., etc (I can’t).
I get it. I really do. If I’m being honest, if I couldn’t feel the “bad” foods I eat (I get nausea, headaches, and moodiness) I probably wouldn’t care half as much as I do. I could rationalize to myself that it doesn’t make a difference if H gets her period at 8 or 14. It doesn’t matter if B gets diagnosed with food-induced ADD (there are meds for that!). It doesn’t matter if I have a few extra rolls to love, my husbands will love me in any shape and size. It doesn’t matter if I die at 80 completely healthy or with cancer. Either way I’m dead.
But that’s the kicker for me. That fear of dying. The idea of leaving my children all alone terrifies me. The possibility of dying at 35 from cancer or complication to type 2 diabetes or heart disease freaks me the hell out. Sure, those things could happen no matter how healthy I am. No matter if I only eat certified USDA organic, non-processed foods or nothing but McDonalds. It could happen whether I sleep on a regular mattress or an organic one. Etc., etc.
The possibility, however, of dying at a young age from something directly linked to what I’ve put into my body, on my body, or in my house, scares me. So yes, I’m paranoid.
I graduated with approximately 170 students from high school (though this includes all 3 high schools I attended, the other 2 were smaller). Before I graduated high school one good friend of mine lost his father one morning to a heart attack. Another friend lost her mother to brain cancer three weeks after she was diagnosed. Another lost her mother to complications from type 2 diabetes. And three other kids lost their mothers to heart disease. All before we ever turned 18. Count them. That’s six parents. Five of them moms. Those odds don’t make we want to take my chances. Not that I’ve ever been a gambling woman anyway.
Honestly, though. I wish I didn’t feel the foods. I wish sometimes that I wasn’t even equipped with the knowledge I am. It’d be easier. It’d be a helluva lot cheaper. It’d save me a lot of time and energy.
But it is what it is, I suppose. I don’t figure I will ever not be afraid of dying young and leaving my babes until they’re well grown. Maybe then I won’t be as crazy. Or maybe by then everyone else will be as crazy as me. ;-) We’ll see.
So I don’t mean to rude or insensitive. I don’t mean to imply that every time you hand your child a cookie you’re trying to kill them or you’re a monster or you just don’t care. I know you do. I know you care. I know you care about your health. I know you care about the health of your babes. Just as much as I do. I really, truly know that.
And I’m not judging you. I’m judging myself. I’m judging my paranoia and my fears.
I have very few fears in life. But dying young is one of them. And it’s as legit as they come.
And because I’m afraid, very afraid, I am also very cautious in the only ways I know how. And because it is very natural to cast our fears and insecurities on to other people, I’m casting them onto you. So as to rationalize my fears a bit. So as to better understand them.
So I am deeply sorry if I come off as insensitive. That is not my motive or goal. I respect each and every person out there. And I love that we are all so different. And I know we all have our different crazies. Mine is dying young and I cope with that through health paranoia. Or legitimate health fears. It’s up to us each to decide.
Anyway, happy tidings and have a glass of wine and curse my name a few times. You’ll feel better and be all that much happier!
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