That’s how I felt last night. The hungry part should be self-explanatory considering I’m on a juice cleanse right now. Yesterday I tried so, so hard to do everything the “right” way. They said 4 oz. of the special juice 4 times per day, plus 3 snacks. The program prefers that you use their “snacks” – which I put in quotation marks because they are these big, chalky horse-pill looking things. It also allows for an apple, 6 raw, unsalted almonds or celery. I can already cross off celery because I think it is foul. Just really, really gross. I can’t even stand the smell. We had some raw almonds, but they were stale. Finally, my coach for the program said I should only eat fruit in the mornings.
So yesterday I had the juice, a wonderful Granny Smith apple in the morning and two of those gross wafers things. Plus lots and lots of water. All day. By 6:30 pm or so I was starting to feel light-headed. Did I mention that I’m also on my period? Sorry if that’s TMI, but it makes this experience oh-so-much worse. By the time my husband came home from school I was feeling very weak and tired, and we still had our dialoguing to do.
Thankfully we decided on the dialogue question the day before, which had allowed me to write my answer earlier in the day. Still, I knew it was far from my best writing. I was all over the place, struggling to find the words, and could barely think of any analogies or shared memories. I have never been more grateful that my husband really does seem to understand what I’m feeling, even if my feelings are all over the map. We managed to get through the dialoguing and even accomplish the goal of relating and connecting to one another.
I don’t hide things very well. At least not at home. That is one of the downfalls (and benefits) of being very honest. Mr. Mess could definitely tell I wasn’t feeling right at all. I let him in on the light-headed incident from earlier. He was ready to go tear them a new one – of course, they were closed. He (smartly) convinced me that having another apple would not be the end of the world or a sign of giving up on the program. I’m so glad he did!
Not too long after I was entirely worn out and ready to go to bed. I probably could have gone to sleep at 7:00 pm, but I wanted to dialogue and talk to my husband for a bit. When we got to the bedroom it was stifling. We have an older brick rancher that was build sometime in the 60s or 70s (my brain is a little fuzzy right now). We have an oil furnace and a large AC unit in the den, but there is no central air. I have had a small window unit for the bedroom since I moved in almost 10 years ago, and it belonged to the owner before me, who left it. That unit is now on its very last leg.
Usually I remember to turn it on an hour or so before we plan to go to bed. As I mentioned, my brain is not working so well on this juice-only phase. Thankfully that only lasts through today, and tomorrow I can go back to the shakes and a 400-600 calorie meal. Back to the story, though… I forgot to turn it on, so our room was very hot (it has been in the 90s and 100s for a month or so). About 30-45 minutes after we laid down our room was still just as sweltering.
I could not go to sleep. I was tossing and turning, hot, hungry and pissed off. My period was giving me cramps, my stomach was growling and I was sweating. I decided to get up and try the couch in the den where the big AC unit was. My cocker spaniel, who is sweet as can be and who I love so, so much just wouldn’t leave me alone. He was pacing and panting and being incredibly distracting. He usually just curls up on a blanket or on the couch and is quiet as can be, which should have been an indicator that something was up. Again – my brain wasn’t really functioning and I was a hot, pissy mess.
He disappeared to the living room (which coincidently is the room our front door opens into). All I could think was – I am sooo glad he left me alone. The lights from the television and various gadgets were annoying, and the noises were driving me crazy – even the ticking of the clock in the kitchen sounded unbearably loud. I sighed and resigned myself to go back to the bedroom, desperately hoping it would have cooled off at least a little bit. On the way there I stepped in dog poop.
I turned on the hall light, cursing under my breath, and saw my dog curled up on the tile in front of the door with a guilty look on his face. I couldn’t be mad. It was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention to his signals because I was so caught up in my own self-pity. I cleaned the floor and my feet, then went back to bed. The room was still baking and I was still cramping and hungry, but I managed to fall asleep anyway.
Today is a new day, and it is better already. I realized that I shouldn’t ignore my body’s signals the way I ignored my dog’s. So far today I feel pretty good. The hunger isn’t as strong, I’ve eaten my breakfast apple, and if I feel like I need one for dinner I’m going to eat it. It’s not like I’m talking about an entire chocolate cake or anything!
When I stepped on the scale this morning I had lost 8.5 pounds total. As my husband reminded me last night, this part of the diet is only temporary. I should look at that weight column as my motivation. My clothes are already starting to fit better. I can see a difference in the mirror, which I’m sure sounds weird considering it’s not really that much weight. Tomorrow I’m sure that 400-600 calorie meal will seem like the most delicious thing I have ever tasted. I can’t wait!