a separation of flesh

I guess three years was a good run...

I keep saying I'm going to go back to eating meat.  But, I just can't bring myself to do it.  I have a concern that my body might have a reaction to flesh for the first time.  You know, it has been three years since I enjoyed my last piece of animal carcass and I am concerned that by re-introducing my stomach to meat, it will be like, "WTF?" and eject that stuff with a heavy dose of diarrhea real quick.  I don't know if that would actually happen and if it's worthy of such a worry but nevertheless, I'm apprehensive.  Therefore, I always say I'll wait until the weekend when I'm off from work so I can eat and take a sudden massive dump if need be without having to worry about crapping on the carpet in front of customers.

"This weekend, I'm going to do it," I say.  Yet, I never do.

I guess it's just because I haven't made peace with eating meat again.  For so long, I was steadfast in my vegetarianism, but it was easier when I was living in Savannah.  I wasn't eating so much crap and had healthier meat alternatives.  Now, things have changed.  It's much harder here.  I'm so fat and unhealthy and miserable.  Yet, I don't want to change.  Well, I do want to change but I don't want to have to eat meat to do it.  I also don't want to have to eat vegetables.  Basically, I want to have my vegan cake and eat it, too.  You know, without it making me fat.  Not gonna happen.

So, I'm going to have to make some compromises.  Try to choke down some spinach along with my salmon.  It will be tough on both fronts but I'll have to push myself out of this pudginess.  I just feel really bad about the whole situation.  I suppose you really realize how much you do (or don't) believe in something when faced with obstacles that hinder your own well-being.  Really, my vegetarianism doesn't have to be as hard as I make it.  Eat more vegetables.  Eat nuts and peanut butter for protein.  Tofu can taste like anything.  But, for me, I hate almost all vegetables and nuts and peanut butter get old after a while and so do Tofurkey sandwiches.  I'm also not crazy about tofu.  Basically, I'm bored with my diet and I'm getting tired of it.  There's hardly any vegetarian friendly choices at restaurants (unless, once again, you like salads and vegetables) and no choices at all at fast food establishments.  The black box closes in again.

If I really felt strong in my convictions I would force myself to eat leafy greens and tomatoes and carrots but the thought makes me sick.  I have tried these foods and I can't deal with them.  I know taste is an immature response to not eating healthy foods but that's my reasoning and that's just how it is.  Instead, I'll be selfish and make it easier on myself an grab a chicken sandwich from a fast food joint and shrimp at a restaurant.  It's just that, I have so many issues with food as it is.  I have an unhealthy relationship with food.  I use food as a comfort, therefore if I'm not eating food that I enjoy, there is no comfort.  And where there is no comfort, there is more agony for me to take on, something that I am not sure I could handle at this point in my life.  It's more complex than that but hopefully you get the gist of it.  It's not as simple as green food is gross.  It's about what kinds of foods are going to help me from going off the deep end.  The other alternative is to just get fat and be gross and lethargic for the rest of my life, all in the name of not supporting the slaughter of animals for human consumption.  Or, I could just eat them and be done with it.  As much as I want to be an animal advocate, when it comes to me and my weight versus animals and their suffering, I'll choose me every time.

And I guess that's the sad part about it.  How can people take me and my animal advocacy seriously when I eat the animals I want to stand up for and give a voice to?  I'll just be another hypocrite.  But, aren't we all to some degree?  It's kind of amazing and frustrating how humans operate sometimes.  Our actions are often contradictory and I think that's a part of the reason why we are so complex- or screwed up- however you want to look at it.  We think one thing, say another and end up doing something else entirely.

One of the nice things about living in the country is the privilege of seeing cows grazing in pastures on my way to and from work.  We even have some that live outside our backyard.  They are really beautiful, peaceful creatures when you watch them just hanging out and eating and lying in the sun.  It always makes me sad to see them and think that one of those calves out there running with their friends or family might one day end up being my dinner.  From playing in a pasture to pâté on my plate.  I shudder at the thought.

Animals are born into agony only to die brutally just so humans can wear their skins for decoration or eat their flesh, all without a second thought to what they once were.  It all seems like such a waste of life to be put down and squashed so easily, so callously.  We take their lives for granted.  No appreciation, just gratification.  It feels like a lot of people don't take the time out to think about where their food comes from or how it came to be that way.  We see the sterilized breaded chicken bits in a bag or even the ground beef, pink and wrapped up and ready to eat with no semblance of what it once looked like and it makes it easier to swallow those hamburgers and to eat those chicken fingers.  As I've stated before, it's not that I'm even entirely opposed to killing animals for food.  I just don't like the way they go about it, causing unnecessary suffering.  I guess I just wish more people took the time out to appreciate the life that was taken so they could be comfortable.

Sometimes I feel silly even writing about these kinds of things.  Some people probably don't give eating meat a second thought and I literally go days and days thinking about it, worrying about it, debating what I should do.  I probably won't write about this much more, either.  I mean, I'm no longer a vegetarian and I've already posted about my journey several times so there's really nothing more to say and no reason to re-hash anything, unless it's to say, "Had a tuna fish sandwich today.  Hate myself.  Thanks for reading."

I'm not going to completely give up vegetarianism.  I'll try to keep my meat consumption limited.  I'm going to try to avoid beef and pork.  I don't guess there's really any reasoning for picking one animal over another except chicken and fish is a bit healthier.  Remember, I decided to start eating meat again for health reasons (but mostly because of my weight).  I want to always keep that in mind.  I didn't just flippantly decided to devour flesh again. 

As I said, things have changed.  Although I'm going back to eating meat, I feel guilty about it.  I probably always will.  After being a vegetarian for so long, it feels natural to have an aversion to meat and skip over eateries that I know don't have anything I can have and passing by various meats in the grocery store and not thinking too hard about it or missing it all that much.  Now, I can have those things.  I am no longer limited in that aspect.  It's almost liberating, although not so much for the animals.

Friday, I ordered a pizza from Mellow Mushroom, the most amazing pizza place I've ever had the pleasure of going to.  I ordered a favorite of mine from my pre-vegetarian days: the Funky Q chicken, consisting of barbecue sauce, cheddar cheese, grilled chicken and Applewood-smoked bacon.  Up until the very second I got on the phone with the lady I ordered it from, I was hesitant.  As I stated earlier, I kept saying I'd do it but I could never bring myself to venture into that territory.  As she asked me what I wanted, I blurted it out and that was that.  There was no going back or changing my order.  I was going to eat meat again after three years.

I brought it home, opened it up and took out a few slices and started eating.  I psyched myself up by just saying I was going to do it.  I wasn't going to think about it or feel guilty or hate myself.  Of course, that would come later, as it always does when I overindulge with pizza or anything other "naughty" food.  The meat part would just be a bonus bout of self-hatred for me to endure.  And I did it.  I ate a few slices and didn't think about it and I was no longer a vegetarian.

It was delicious.

I think that I'll always carry some guilt with me about this.  I'll always feel a bit conflicted.  But, I'm kind of used to it.  I feel conflicted about so many aspects of my life and guilt is something that usually comes along with that because I feel like I never make the right choices.  I'm always messing up something, feeling inadequate and useless.  So, we'll just add one more thing to the pile and hope I don't crack under the weight of it all. 

Finished off the pizza today.  Hate myself.  Thanks for reading.

black box

"How could I write about life when I'd never had a love affair or a baby or even seen anybody die?  A girl I knew had just won a prize for a short story about her adventures among the pygmies in Africa.  How could I compete with that sort of thing?"
-Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

I've realized that my life has always been limited in one way or another.  My parents limited my world by never taking me anywhere.  I limited myself socially by never going anywhere.  I sat at home and ate and got fat, which ruined my confidence.  The lack of confidence caused me to run away from people and their judgments.  I don't drink.  I don't smoke.  I don't party.  I don't eat meat.  I don't eat vegetables.  I don't swear (much).  I don't have sex (with others).  I'm from a small town, thus nowhere to go and nothing to do.  I don't have a girlfriend.  I don't have a best friend.  I only have acquaintances and they have already moved on to other locations.  I work a stifling job and am forced to interact with stifling people.  I don't socialize or metabolize.  I simply fill a slot on this earth.

It's the world that grabs me by its mechanical hand and puts me in the shower, puts me in my job, puts me in the seat of my chair, puts me in front of people and forces me to open my mouth and speak.  I don't go willingly.  My will is in my bed.  It's in a good book.  It's in sleep and food and the small part of my brain unaffected by cynicism and disease.  It wriggles its way into the tucked away part that can still fathom hope and what happiness might feel like one day.

I am limited.  My life situation limited me.  My parents/friends/enemies limited me.  I limited myself.   I'm trapped in my own black box and everyone has had a hand in constructing it.  And it's devastating as a writer and as a person to feel so enclosed.

I've joked that I should fall in love and break someone's heart or have my heart broken just to have a story to write.  I say that I should get drunk just to see what it feels like or do something naughty to feel the thrill of breaking rules, engage in behavior that forces the blood to rush faster, the heart to beat faster, the surge of excitement and adrenaline.  I should travel and meet and kiss people and give and take and be a real person.  Or at least emulate a real person.  I'd like to think the benefits would be two-fold:  I'd have personal experience and material for stories.

The great obstacle is actually obtaining that experience.  I've developed a Stockholm Syndrome of sorts from being locked inside this black box.  It's suffocating and soothing all at the same time because I don't know any different.  I know that I don't like it but I also know that I have a fear of what else is out there.  I'm terrified of the outside world.  I'm terrified of the experience because I might not like what I find outside my uncomfortably comfortable box.  I'm terrified that I might not be good enough for the world, that I might not be good enough for the people of the world.  I peer through the cracks of the black box but the world outside is too bright and daunting so I shrink back into the blackness.

I've heard some say "write what you know" and while I am ambivalent toward that sentiment (I've heard pros and cons of writing from knowledge versus having fun and making it up as you go) I can't even follow that advice because I don't know much of anything.  I know about food.  I know about...hm...sleeping.  I know about being lazy and watching television.  And unless I can turn the topic of sloth into a success in both life and the written word, I don't think I'll get very far.

Ah, it's that good old fear, driving me further into the corner of my black box, insisting I stay where I'm miserable yet familiar with the feeling of darkness and hopelessness.  How is it possible to overcome this fear?  How can you take a stand against something that feels as natural as the flesh that wraps around your bones?  How is it possible to shake off a force that has been your only source of constant presence (albeit unwanted) for nearly your entire life?  That is the great question.  I fear the insurmountable answer.

dismantle

I didn't even realize how long I was gone...

I have been numbing myself with sleep and food and television and books.  I have some huge problems in my life and I have simply ignored them in favor of garbage.  Food garbage, television garbage and sleep steeped in bizarre, unsettling dreams.

I hate my job more and more and people more and more and myself more and more.  I honestly don't know how much longer I can do this.

I am trying to tell you that I am horrible and I don't think I've fully convinced anyone.

But, you don't really know me.  You know what you read and you get my side of the story but there is so much rage and hatred inside of me that you would probably puke if you only knew half the truth.

So, from this point on I will dismantle the good guy image I have built up for myself for the majority of my life.  That's not me anymore.  I don't think it was ever me at all.  I am falling away from myself and discovering something darker.

Nothing makes sense anymore:  God and gluttony.  Food and family.  Sex and death.  Flesh and flowers.  Love.  I will take these topics and pick them apart until I am satisfied that I have sufficiently resolved my hesitation and confusion with them and I will hopefully find some semblance of peace with my conclusions.  Or I'll only find more madness.

Either way, I'll be working toward something, which is more than I can say for myself lately.