Lyme Inflammation Diet - Day 1

People have vices.  Some drink.  Some hit.  Some pocket dial or text while flying down the highway.  My vice?  Bread and sugar.  And both of my vices are forbidden on the Lyme Inflammation Diet (LID).

I love Dr. S and his desire to make his patients well.  But his LID is my downfall.  Give me kefir and antibiotics and I could survive this.  Take away bread and sugar and I fail.  Consistently.  And it drives me nuts.

I went to Trader Joe's yesterday to gear up to eat this diet.  And I bought raw almonds, bok choy (?!), asparagus, pomegranate juice and blueberry juice.  I was actually excited about eating because it would mean getting rid of the bloat.  Which now has semi left my stomach area to settle unsightly around my ankles and lower half of my legs.  I even prepared my breakfast and lunch and snacks, so hopeful.  I had eggs for breakfast, pomegranate juice with my multi-vitamin, sauteed asparagus with mushrooms and onions, celery with almond and flaxseed butter.  All neatly packed in my lunch bag.

I had a meeting at work and they ordered in lunch and invited me to order too.  I should have said no, but even the salad I ordered was LID-approved for phase 1.  It had arugula, artichokes and onions with balsamic vinegar.  But they had bread at the table that everyone raved about.  It was like white pizza.  I opened one closest to me, like an idiot, and it's bready, cheesy goodness smelled divine.  And without thinking, I bit into it.  It tasted so warm and delicious...

Damn.

I lasted 12 hours.  Twelve hours!

And my ankles grew after I ate my bread.

I hate this disease, but I hate my lack of willpower even more.  How is it I can push myself to go to work, exercise, heck, even go to church when I'm feeling low and in pain, but when it comes to bread, I sink?  It's an addiction, I'm telling you.  It has no rhyme or reason.  I complain about the bloat, I complain about the pain, there's a solution and my body sabotages it at every turn.  It's sickening!  Even as I type, I have a craving for a burger that's unreal and burgers aren't allowed until the end of phase 4.  Another month and a half from now.  And ice cream.  Oh, it's siren song always lulls me to my inflamed demise and today, it lures loudly and seductively.  I can hold out bread and sugar free, for 3 days.  It's been my maximum of dedicated willpower.  By day 4, I can't hold out.  I've tried taking it one day at a time.  And in my mind, if it's one day and this were to be my last day, I want to be happy and eat my bread and ice cream.  If I try to make it past day 4, my attitude is the poster child of PMS, without the PMS.  I'm moody and grouchy and ready to kill someone for a piece of bread or sugar.  My husband recognizes my rabid state and gives me what I want, but it isn't what I need.  I would pay someone (almost) to shadow me and smack my hand Catholic nun-style to stop the offending food entering my mouth.

The day isn't over.  Diet pundits and cheerleaders say a slip up doesn't ruin the whole day.  They aren't there when I'm driving past a Cold Stone Creamery or Elevation Burger and I happen to find myself in front of the counter ordering.  I have eliminated fast food.  I've eliminated fried food.  I've eliminated candy bars and fire balls.  I heard that super strong probiotics fixes the desire to eat bread and sugar.  And the Body Ecology people emailed me and said to order this super probiotic to help.  I'm ordering it today.  I can't do this to myself.  And the ankle bloat is as uncute as the belly bloat.