Murder is Delicious

I went to the mall the other day to pick up a pair of shoes for work.  When I walked up to the front entrance, two Salvation Army volunteers were standing in front of the doors, ringing that freaking bell like they were using a shake weight.  In my annoyance, I slipped a dollar out of my wallet and slid it in the red kettle.  The lady stopped ringing that bell long enough to hand me a coupon from Chick-fl-A.  Free chicken sandwich with the purchase of a medium Coca-Cola.  Yikes.  Lost on me.  I accepted it anyway because it was free and I didn’t feel like explaining to her that I was a vegetarian.  It was a small slap in the face, another reminder of how frustrating being a vegetarian can be sometimes, how I miss out on fun and free foods, how my willpower is slowly crumbling under the weight of dead, delectable flesh.

October marked the two-year anniversary of becoming meat free.  I can’t say it’s been a good two years.  I became a vegetarian because I am a huge animal lover and advocate so it just felt wrong to me to eat them.  It seemed pretty hypocritical to cuddle up to cats while chewing on chickens.  All animals should be respected equally, even slimy, disgusting snakes.  Plus, I’m abhorred by the absolutely terrible conditions the poor creatures are forced to endure before their demise.  They are tortured and starved and pumped full of chemicals and hormones that probably have terrible side effects on them before they are inefficiently killed.  I can’t even begin to describe how horrible it all is.  If you check out footage of slaughterhouses, you’ll see for yourself the indescribable pain, mutilation, torture, the agonizing life and death of these helpless animals.  So, two years ago I decided not to be a part of that madness.  Of course, I had no misconceptions that slaughterhouses would shut down and people would stop killing cows and impaling pigs but I knew that I wasn’t going to be a part of it.  And that made me feel good. 

At first.

Although I identify myself as a Christian, I've never been too terribly devout.  Also, I’m not into politics and basically, for the entirety of my life, I’ve never had a strong opinion about anything or stood up for any cause.  This was my chance to affiliate myself with something I deemed important.  I had something tangible to believe in.  I felt good, like I had a purpose.  Plus, I dropped about fifteen pounds within a few weeks of cutting meat out of my diet.  A bonus.  And the longer I went without meat, the easier it got.  For the first year.

Things all changed when I graduated from college and moved back home. 

Let me just say that I’m an incredibly picky eater.  I don’t like anything.  And even when I ate meat, I usually only ate chicken.  I had chicken almost daily.  So, when I didn’t have chicken anymore, I settled for chicken substitutes.  And the really funny thing is I became a vegetarian but I hate vegetables.  I loathe leafy greens and will not touch a salad.  So you may ask what exactly it is that I ate?  Nothing good.  Mostly breads, pastas, junk food.  Carbohydrates and crap.  But, I tried to limit all of that.  I mostly ate baked chips and meat substitutes and low calorie candies.  That was when I was in school and I had more options and I was more occupied.

Now, unfortunately, there aren’t nearly as many meat substitute options available in my small town.  Sure, I have the choice between a garden burger or…oh, wait, that’s it!  So, to make up for the lack of meat and meat alternatives, I supplemented my diet with a lot more junk food, more than I had in school.  That coupled with the fact that I was not in school and jobless with a lot of time on my hands led to me ballooning up in a matter of months.  I started to think meat might be more satisfying.  If I could just get a hold of a nicely grilled chicken breast, I wouldn’t be in such need of a chocolate cake.  Yet, I felt bad.  Any time I thought about returning to roasted flesh, I thought about the reasons why I became a vegetarian in the first place.  I didn’t want to lose that conviction that I clung to so firmly.   

I went to a health food store one day to inquire about a supplement that was supposed to be a good source of protein.  I was met by a hippie/bohemian lady and I asked her if the pills would be good for me since I was a vegetarian.  She said they were and then she told me she was a vegetarian for thirteen years.  My ears perked up, interested in hearing about her experiences as a non-meat eater.  I was caught off guard and a little disappointed when she said, “And I said to myself one day, ‘I’m not doing a damn thing for these animals!’”  She went back to eating meat after that.  I guess that simple revelation was all she needed to convert to carnivorism again.  She also said that a lot of meat substitutes can mess up your system and throw it off balance.  All about how they are overly processed and can disrupt your hormones.  She really made me think.  I thought If anyone would be a vegetarian or vegan, it would be that lady.  And the fact that she wasn’t almost made me feel like it was okay to eat meat again.  Plus, I ate meat substitutes almost every single day so there was no telling what kind of processed hormonal garbage that was running through me.

But if I went back to eating meat, meat is full of hormones as well.  I can either consume a bunch of soy that’s going to throw my body out of whack and give me man breasts or I can eat a bunch of meat filled with hormones that'll make me grow a second pair of testicles or something.  I’m screwed either way I go.  What about organic, hormone free meats, you ask?  That’s a great idea, in theory, but once again, there isn’t that kind of option in this small town.  There aren’t even any good meat substitutes or hormone-free meats in any surrounding towns!  I’m back to where I started.

So I think about staying a vegetarian but I hate vegetables.  And I still drink milk and eat eggs and wear leather and that is just as bad as eating meat ‘cause the animals are still tortured and killed for diary and eggs and leather.  So, really, what am I accomplishing?  Not much of anything.  But I have to wonder if I’m just going through a phase of doubt or if I really want to go back to eating meat.  Frankly, I don’t feel better about myself and I don’t feel like I have a clean conscious like I thought I would.  I just feel like I haven’t made any great strides with my diet or my morals.  In fact, I’m almost embarrassed when people ask me why I don’t eat meat.  I’m worried they’ll automatically think I’m one of those PETA people but it’s not like that at all.  I don’t care if other people eat meat.  And I know me not eating meat probably won’t make any difference in the world but it was just a personal decision I made to try to make myself feel better about a situation that I thought was horrid. 

I just don’t know.  I know once I have that first taste of meat, I would have undone two entire years of any kind of progress toward a goal that I thought I was making.  Would I even enjoy it anymore knowing what I know?  Even when I was eating meat, I was picky about the kind of meat I would eat.  I don’t like the skin on chicken and the fat on beef always made me queasy.  What if I order a steak and once it’s plated and put in front of me, I just see a diseased piece of dead flesh?  Or what if I taste ambrosia?  I’m sitting here freaking out about going back to eating meat after only two years.  I couldn’t imagine making that decision after thirteen years like that lady.  I think after that long, I’d just see it through.  It just feels like way too much time to dedicate to something to just give it up so easily.

I hate to say this but as much as I love animals and as much as I tried to do good, there comes a time when I guess you have to put yourself first and if your health is being compromised, maybe you should throw in the towel.  I don’t want to have man boobs and I do want to be able to have more options when it comes to food.  I suppose the only option is to try to go organic and buy hormone-free meats but that would have to be after I’ve moved away to a place that offered such.  And that’s definitely not here.  I feel very limited and very screwed.  I want to do the right thing, to be healthy and happy and feel good about standing up for a cause but at this point all I feel is tired and busty.  I don’t want to eat a bunch of hormones and chemicals, no matter whether I’m eating meat or meat substitutes.  I want to do what’s best for my body but I still keep thinking about those poor animals and I want to try to make some kind of stand against their terrible treatment but I just feel defeated.  I’m not making any difference and I’m not making any progress but I also can’t see myself going back after so long going without.

I said I’d make a decision by Thanksgiving.  If I was going to stay meat-free, I’d purchase a tofurkey and call it a day but I I was gonna go back to meat, I’d go back to being a carnivore in style, with some delicious turkey and ham.  Yet, I was still apprehensive and when Thanksgiving arrived, I didn’t eat any meat.  That doesn’t mean I decided to stay a vegetarian.  It just meant I still hadn’t made a decision.  I was never worried about eating when over at my grandmother’s house because there was usually some sort of bread I could munch on but this year there was nothing.  No cornbread.  No macaroni and cheese.  Nothing to put on my plate to give the illusion that I was eating.  I ended up having some banana pudding.  My sister, Shannon, looked at my plate in disgust and asked me why I wasn’t eating anything else.  I told her I couldn’t have any of the turkey.

“You can have turkey!” she declared with a tilt of disapproval in her voice.

Meat eaters just don’t understand.

I didn’t argue with her but that’s the kind of attitude I get all the time when I refuse Mom’s cooked meats or when I tell people I’m a vegetarian.  I don’t understand why people have such a block against not consuming meat.  It’s like I’m explaining Calculus in a different language to these people and it’s frustrating and I’m just tired of having to justify my decision.  Yeah, I hate to say it but people are another one of the reasons I’m thinking about jumping onto the ol’ bacon bandwagon.  Yet, I can’t get over the fact that I worked on being a vegetarian for two years and if I go back now it’ll feel like two years wasted, although I suppose it wouldn’t be a waste.  It would have been a good effort.  Perhaps I can be proud of myself for at least sticking it out this long.  I don’t want to be selfish but I don’t want my health to be compromised, either.  As important as I think those cows and chickens are, I have to admit I care more about myself than I care about them.  And that goes with my whole newly embittered attitude.  As careless as I’m becoming with myself and with people, I suppose animals are the next in line to face my apathetic wrath.  I also think about the few vegetarian acquaintances I’ve made and to go back to eating meat would make me feel like I was betraying them.  I’m worried they might not like me anymore, might call me a traitor.  Of course, if they only befriended me or only liked me just because I didn’t suck on sausage, then what kind of acquaintances were they in the first place?  But I have so few contacts nowadays that I try to hold on to the ones I have, no matter how crappy they might be. 

I’m at a loss.  Meat is murder but…I have to admit, murder is delicious.