by Danah Khalil
Keep overeating like this and you will gain weight.
I told you, look at how bloated your stomach is.
You disgust me.
I thought you liked your body.
Why are you still eating to add on the pounds?
Just because something is considered “health food” doesn’t mean it won’t make you fat!
Even when I confidently admire myself in the gym mirror, or devour a large bowl of rice, Ed always has something to say. And although I am not happy admitting this, perhaps what he is suggesting is actually fair. I have been eating a ridiculous amount lately…. No snacks or junk food, of course, but still a ridiculous amount. I’m constantly feeling bloated after each meal, but I can’t stop myself. Ed is right; my self-control has diminished greatly over time. I wonder if this is actually positive or negative.
July 18, 2014
I have finally completed my first original yoga home practice to perform daily, and I am beyond excited. With this, I will gain more strength, flexibility, and balance. I will ensure that I sweat every day. I will focus more on my breathing. I will end each routine with beneficial meditation. I will be a genuine yogi exactly like the ones I marvel at on my computer screen.
Yes, you will be beautiful and lovely and fit.
All yogis have amazing bodies, and now, you will too.
July 19, 2014
I am so frustrated right now because the damn recipe did not turn out like the image on Instagram even though I used the exact same ingredients and measurements like fuck I hate my life so much right now what am I supposed to do with this shit it is falling apart I could just dump it all in the blender or bake it instead of eating it raw or maybe tomorrow I will just wing it ha ha yeah right no wait I really don’t want to eat this for breakfast tomorrow morning it looks bad I am so disappointed maybe I should just give it to my sister I hope she wants it because I hate to waste food okay so then which recipe should I make now instead?
August 3, 2014
There is no better way to wish my sister a happy birthday than by making her favorite raw, vegan dessert! Sometimes I really don’t mind recipe-sharing with her, although I can get terribly annoyed, watching her attempt to whip up superfood delights like I do. But considering it is her birthday, I have decided to give it a go. For once, I placed things in the food processor without measuring, and I did not care what – or exactly how much – went in. My goal was to make it as indulgent as possible. After all, my sister is quite picky, and in her eyes, the more chocolate and peanut butter the better.
The final product looked so positively delicious that I couldn’t resist snapping a quick picture before she saw it. As for tasting it myself, well, that was a different story.
There is no way I would have ever let you have a bite of that loaded crap.
Loaded crap? It is completely healthy and nutritious!
Sure, the ingredients were fine, but you didn’t even measure!
It is for your sister and family, and them ONLY.
You have your picture.
Pretend you tasted it.
Go work out.
But I don’t want to work out right now. I want to see my family’s reaction when they bite into the delicious cake….
No, you want them to turn it around on you and offer you a piece.
Selfish pig.
I think I am far from selfish, considering all the time and effort I put into this dessert.
Oh, please.
This was all for you anyway; any excuse to be in the kitchen.
August 12, 2014
I think I may be afraid of running on my own again. I honestly used to enjoy running. My weekly jogs were time away from all the craziness at home – and in my head – because they were always so refreshing and satisfying.
Ah, yes, the sweat; the calorie burning; the fat shedding.
I can remember it so clearly now.
Then why haven’t I run once yet this entire summer? Every time I lace up, I back out and ride my bike instead. Why? Has running become too difficult for me all of a sudden? Has my cardio fitness really gone to shit? Is it because my fat stomach always feels too damn bloated to move? Or do I dread it because I want to avoid the constant competition with myself?
Whatever the reason, it bothers me, because the longer I allow myself to avoid running, the harder it will be to start again.
I used to be such a healthy, happy cross-country runner – I really did. Now I’m just a washout who is afraid to even go on a harmless jog.
Okay, that is not entirely true, because practically every day last week when I was on holiday in Barcelona, I went for a run. But there it felt entirely different. It is far, far easier to run when you don’t have a destination or time frame in mind, or when the gorgeous views and ideal weather are always on your side. I guess I hoped that, upon my return home, I would be inspired to begin running regularly again. Alas, I wasn’t.
I don’t even want to think about that trip.
Yes, you ran every day, but you did NO strength training.
Nor did you do your daily yoga flow.
Do you realize how loaded all of those dishes of paella were?
I hope you understand the severity of your actions and the mistakes we must correct.
Oh, fuck off, Ed. I enjoyed the food in Spain, and all of the runs and the walks were more than enough exercise…right?
Fuck.
No.
No.
NO!
Ed is right again.
No wonder stretching was tougher when I returned home. I probably lost all of my hard-earned flexibility!
And no wonder my home and gym workouts were more exhausting. All of my strength must have disappeared during that one week away!
Now I am going to have to work extra hard for the remainder of the summer to get it all back.
August 14, 2014
I feel bad for wasting my time taking pictures of my breakfast every day, but honestly, I adore capturing that perfect image of my heavenly food. I probably spend about thirty minutes every morning adjusting the lighting, setting up the décor, creating the ideal backdrop, and finding the best angle for the picture.
But I don’t care.
I really don’t.
It is just so exciting to see the final images, and while some certainly turn out better than others, I am extremely proud of each and every one. I edit my favorites and arrange them into a collage every month. I label them and drag them into the MY FOOD folder on my desktop. Whether or not I will ever use them in an online blog is still a mystery to me, but this is a new hobby I don’t think I could ever drop.
August 16, 2014
“What!? You really don’t like any sauces?”
“You don’t put ketchup or mayo on your burger?”
“Wait, you don’t even like hamburgers!?”
“And you, like, never eat junk food?”
“Not even cookies?”
“No chips?”
“Jesus, what do you eat every day?”
“Salad and fruit sound boring to me.”
“What the heck is a smoothie bowl??”
“How about french fries?”
“Okay, you must like pizza!”
“What is your favorite food?”
“So you would rather eat bananas than bacon?”
“Tofu instead of chicken wings?”
“You are so weird.”
My eating habits are a source of entertainment for the campers at my volunteer placement. At first, I didn’t mind the attention; it was kind of enjoyable sharing what I love to eat with younger kids who are still stuck in their McDonald’s phase. But eventually, I began to feel like a social science experiment. They continued to poke and prod, and soon enough, even fellow counselors joined in the “fun.”
But I wasn’t lying about any of it; I have simply developed a love for health foods over junk food. It’s a shame that the campers cannot see how beneficial this lifestyle is. All they see is a weird girl eating pasta without sauce. At least that’s better than seeing a girl with an eating disorder.
August 21, 2014
Ed was constantly screaming in my ear tonight in the gym weight room, as I allowed my inexperience and insecurity to dictate the duration of my workout.
“It isn’t my fault that people I know from school are here! I don’t want to look foolish! Some of the exercises are embarrassing!” I argued, but Ed couldn’t have cared less.
Get your lazy ass back on the machines.
No one will give a shit about what you look like now.
They will only see how amazing and beautiful and strong you become.
August 30, 2014
The smell of the eggs and bacon cooking on the portable grill both disgusted and intrigued me. I couldn’t even remember the last time I ate anything remotely similar for my favorite meal of the day.
My friends’ smiles as they happily ate their cholesterol-filled breakfasts actually caused me to feel envious about how easily they allow themselves to eat such greasy, unhealthy food. I was pretty okay watching them pig out – until someone brought out several different loaves of bread.
My mouth salivated.
My stomach growled.
I tried to convince Ed to let me have a slice or two. After all, it was past 11:00 a.m. Technically it could be considered my lunch. And this way, I wouldn’t have to eat the nasty hamburgers and hotdogs that my friends had planned for later on in the afternoon.… This really was the better way to go.
Good point.
You may have two.
I began to reach for the “English-style Raisin” variety when Ed suddenly snapped, causing me to quickly withdraw my hand.
Are you high?
Do you realize how much sugar and salt is in that type?
But it looks the most delicious…. Come on, Ed, this is my only intake until dinner!
Why should I care?
Go for the multigrain, idiot.
I did as I was told.
I ate two slices in about two seconds.
I reached for two more.
Ed was screaming beyond belief.
The sound was ear-splitting.
But I was hungry.
And my friends were waiting
to see how much I would eat.
I didn’t have any other option.
I ate two more slices with a smile.
WHO THE FUCK EATS FOUR SLICES OF TOAST!?
WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!?
IF YOU THINK YOU ARE GOING TO SPEND THE WHOLE WEEKEND HERE, YOU BETTER THINK AGAIN, DUMB BITCH.
AFTER THIS FUCKING STUNT, YOU WILL GO HOME EARLY TO WORK OUT.
YOU WILL BARELY TOUCH YOUR DINNER.
YOU FUCKING FAT-ASS.
YOU DISGUST ME.
Frankly, I am disgusted with myself.
September 1, 2014
Weed makes my fingertips and toes go numb. Weed makes time go by quickly, while making my feet move so damn slowly. Weed makes my head go ’round and ’round in circles. Weed makes me see flashing lights on the field. Weed makes my mouth go dry; dry like the Sahara Desert. Weed makes everything that much more hilarious. Weed forces me to laugh and laugh and laugh forever and ever.
Weed is good. Weed is calorie-free. Yes, I have been doing my research since the moment I giggled my way home. And get this: in the long run, weed even helps people lose weight, so it must be good for you!!! Sure, the munchies exist, but Ed would never let me snack.
Yeah. Weed is nice. Everyone should have some weed. Okay, I am going to sleep now. Good night.
September 12, 2014
Self-control:
It’s something I had so much of before.
It’s something I lack entirely now.
I eat the size of a regular portion from the dish on the stovetop before ever spooning any onto my plate. I don’t eat until I am full. I eat until I am on the verge of puking.
I will never eat this much again, I think to myself after every meal. I must regain my self-control.
Yet, the very next day, I repeat the same mistake.
With junk food, self-control is not even an issue. But it is with my three main meals – especially dinner – when I overeat, worry, and hate myself even more.
September 19, 2014
I am such a fucking loser I will never make a volleyball team again my game has gone to hell I am a bundle of nerves on the court I cannot pass for shit I am too damn nervous and untalented honestly I will be really fucking lucky if I even make the first cut at any tryout why do I do this to myself tryout season stresses me out so much I literally had to go home from school today because I felt sick I was hyperventilating and crying in the washroom I could barely breathe I could barely eat what the fuck is happening to me maybe if I was actually good at a single fucking sport I would not have to worry like this every September fuck my life at this point I just want to quit volleyball too because I am the worst athlete ever I really just want to cry.
September 22, 2014
This morning I stared into the full-length mirror, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, I was not analyzing or pinching my body. It was my face I was focused on as I realized just how goddamn ugly I really am. My nostrils are too small, my plain brown eyes are boring, my sideburns are dark and growing, and, worst of all, my once-perfect complexion has now turned to shit.
I practically have craters on my fucking face; pimples the size of cherry tomatoes, scars from popping that resemble potholes in the goddamn road, and the redness of a fucking strawberry field.
Why am I suddenly breaking out like this? I even asked my mother for advice. Her reply literally caused steam to come out of my ears and my face to heat up like a kettle.
“You are eating too much fat, Danah,” she said coolly. “Don’t you realize how loaded your breakfasts are? Far too much nut butter and granola. Lay off it, all right?”
I can never fucking win with this woman, can I? First, I eat too little, and now, too much!? I don’t think I’ve ever been so frustrated with her before.
I wanted to slug her in the face.
Why didn’t you?
Oh! I know why…
Perhaps because she is RIGHT, you idiot.
Fatty foods cause pimples just like they cause muffin tops.
No. I won’t forfeit my marvelous, massive breakfasts. They are the reason I even get out of bed in the mornings.
Breakfast and the fact that you have to work out, you lazy pig.
Okay, fine, that too. Nevertheless, I refuse to be taken down by my own damn mother, who, at this point, seems to have completely taken Ed’s side, leaving me alone and helpless as I desperately try to find an escape.
Who would have thought that it would be Mom who would drag me, kicking and screaming, back into the hole?
October 3, 2014
Normally, you will rarely find me procrastinating about schoolwork, but recently, I have been using the kitchen, the Internet, and the gym as reasons to be away from the books. So far this school year, I have really not been impressed with myself. My grades are still outstanding, but my work ethic and new studying patterns are a worry; I can’t keep finishing up assignments and notes at 1:00 or 2:00 a.m. all week when I should have done them earlier instead of working out, eating, preparing food, or searching through vegan health blogs.
I really hope I can turn this school year around before these bad habits stick. After all, everyone says that grade 11 is when marks truly begin to matter, and while making top grades has never been a big issue for me, I need to ensure that everything goes my way this year so that I can be considered for early acce
ptance.
Whoa.
Am I really discussing university right now – something that seems so far off? Well, maybe it is a good idea, because the last thing I want is for the school year to completely pass me by, leaving me clueless about exactly what I want to study or exactly where I want to go.
I was planning on staying in the city to study because it’s easier financially, and there is less of a transition to make. But what school is my top choice and what program I am interested in? I have no idea.
Social sciences and humanities have always been my greatest interests, so naturally, I have been considering law for years now. But after conducting some recent research, I realize that there are so many other options for me. I could go into journalism, politics, therapy, social work, education, international development. The possibilities are endless. All I have to do is rediscover the impressive discipline and work ethic I once had.
October 10, 2014
I hate it when I hear people talking about fitness and health food like fuck off none of you know anything you are all idiots that is my turf anyway seriously get the fuck out.
October 15, 2014
The scale at the gym stood staring me in the face…. It was so intriguing; so inviting; so harmless.
Step on it.
Please, just do it.
Now is the time; you must know.
You have not weighed yourself in so long.
Don’t you want to make sure you haven’t lost any weight?
You see, even I can be harmless sometimes;
I care about your health.
My curiosity – and Ed’s nagging – got the best of me as I strolled on over to the shiny, silver scale and took off my shoes. I raised my foot in the air to finally step on when suddenly, two young tweens in bikinis appeared at my side, clearly waiting to weigh themselves.
“Oh, uh, g-g-go ahead.” I stammered.
I stepped aside and watched as the first girl read her weight.
“Aw man, I gained a pound!” she shrieked.