Food.

I obsess about food. I'm constantly fretting about whether my whole grain pasta is going to give me colon cancer or if that Caramel Macchiato I had last month is going to turn me into a diabetic.

I gave up red meat over a year ago in an attempt to micro-manage my diet. One too many people told me, hey, don't eat that meat, and I was like, yeah alright, let's give it a go. I think I kept with it because it felt good to have some control in my life. No matter what happened, I had given up red meat! Wow! Super job!

It wasn't hard, because I am not the biggest meat fan. The only time I've really craved red meat in the last year was when I watched Iron Man and when Robert Downey Jr. was like "I really want a cheeseburger," and I was like, "Me too, Robert Downey Jr. Me too."

I eat chicken sometimes because it's convenient, and I eat fish because I'm Alaskan. These foods notwithstanding, I am astonished at how unhealthily you can eat and still be vegetarian. I once heard someone say that it's virtually impossible to get fat on a vegetarian diet. What?? Put down those French fries. Hand over that Oreo McFlurry. I can attest that a vegetarian diet can be far unhealthier than an omnivore's. Just because you aren't eating bacon strips and burgers doesn't mean your diet is inherently healthy. It just means it's meat-free. Careful up on that pedestal, preachy vegetarian! It is a teetering pile of Cheez-Its and Oatmeal Cream Pies and Skittles.

I've impulsively bought several books that claim to have the answer to healthy eating and they all basically say the same thing: the only way for me to avoid dying a slow, bloated, obese death at the age of 45 is to eat vegan.

Well, shit.

You know what else they said? No gluten, no sugar, no alcohol, no caffeine.

I can give up meat. I can give up caffeine. I can give up artificial sweeteners. I could even give up alcohol, although after reading these books I really just wanted to toss one back.

But gluten? And dairy? Why, horrible book authors, why do you want my bread and cheese? The food staples of Western society? Is my PB&J really that deadly? Is that string cheese really going to climb down my throat and grab onto my arteries and hold a bake sale to raise funds for the Devil's traveling soccer team?

Yes, they replied.

So yesterday, I decided to go on a fruit and vegetable fast. I did one last year and I remember feeling great about it. I think I may have some seriously distorted memories.

I made it until about noon today when I just wanted to murder anyone eating anything. I just want a granola bar, I told myself. No no no, said the little health gurus in my head. That granola bar has oats and honey in it. Bad!

Then I felt guilty for even thinking about eating a granola bar. That lasted for about 30 seconds when suddenly I realized, hey, what the hell, this is so totally beyond fucked up!

I had a revelation, as those with revelations say. I was completely miserable on my deprivation diet. Sure, those authors can feed me some bullshit about how my body is getting used to being healthy and the toxins are leaving my body, but I think I just felt sick because I hadn't eaten nearly enough.

The time in my life when I felt most healthy was last semester, when my roommate and I began eating healthily and working out every day. I was still eating dairy and gluten and, on occasion, chicken and fish. I still ate "unhealthy" foods once in awhile, as a treat. But mostly I just ate smart and not too often. My energy levels and mood soared, and eventually I just didn't think about food that much. I naturally made healthy decisions because that's what I craved. I felt sick if I over-ate, so I didn't. Pretty cut and dry, whatever that means.

But this, this obsessing over avoiding specific foods is just as destructive as emotional binging. It's all about focusing my energy towards food, instead of what's really bothering me, like feeling unprepared for my upcoming trip to Argentina, or my fear that I will never be able to hold a job because office life depresses me so much, or my overwhelming terror that I am in the wrong major and it is too late and I will never be qualified to do what I really want to do, whatever that is. These are real problems that can't be solved by picking the bacon bits off my salad or switching to soy milk. And I think, after two years since I gained 20 pounds before college and began my obsession with food, I have finally realized that.

So I marched down to the vending machine and stuck a weirdo dollar coin I got in Oregon in the machine. It didn't like my James Monroe blood money, so I traded it in for quarters. And then, THEN, at last, I had my granola bar.

Indulgence never tasted so crunchy.