I used to think...
people who followed fad diets like Atkins and South Beach were sheep. Now that I have been eating no sugar/low carb myself (sans the grease-laden meat products the good dead Dr. Atkins recommended), my disdain has matured into full-blown contempt.
Admittedly, I'm proud that I have endured this punishment for the past four-almost-five months, but I haven't been pleasant about it. When I catch myself going into way too much detail talking to people about what I eat (they ask), the sound of my own voice makes me want to check myself into a treatment center and take my meals intravenously.
How do people live like this? If I eat one more chicken breast, I'm going to get mad chicken disease. I can't stomach another green vegetable. Salad is my enemy. I have nightmares about being trapped like a piece of fruit suspended in sugar-free jello. I worry about what consuming a pound or more of Splenda a week is doing to my body.
I miss Three Musketeer bars. I miss Jelly Bellies (don't even suggest the sugar free version; they taste like shiny crap nuggets). And don't get me started on how much I miss a frosty-cold vodka martini.
Before I piss the universe off, let me add how grateful I am to be healthy and to have the option of getting well by changing my eating habits. Not everyone is so fortunate. I just wish I could find something I love as much as I once loved the chocolate pudding at Hominy Grill...or Maker's Mark...or coconut shrimp. Because no-sugar-added ice cream doesn't even come close.