The raw vegan in me has died. I eat standard american diet fare again. I am a failure.

Okay, I know I’m not a real failure in the grand scheme of things, and I’m still eating pretty health-consciously for non-raw vegan (picked up good tips…more smoothies), but it felt pretty bad to finally, really give it up. I lasted 5 weeks. I lost 5-10 pounds of water weight and marbled muscle fat. I ate dressing made of pure fruit and no oils on my huge salads at night. I watched every bite of those Taco Bell outings go into a mouth that was not mine. And I watched Paula, Rachel, Giada, fucking Down Home with the Neelys (my FAVORITE) and all my other Food Network friends more than I ever have over the last 2 years combined. You’d think it was torture, but it was somehow savory and luscious without the guilt, these TV buffets which sprinkled savory visuals of everything I was denying myself all over my hidden, make-believe tongue. I am the queen of self-denial and control when I really try.

But then I got sick. Real sick. I am not pinning the mystery illness on being raw vegan entirely, but something miserable, week-long and debilitating happened an hour after eating a meal of cucumber, tomatoes, and mango which is still unexplained. I may have washed something inadequately, or my system may have become so accustomed to pureness that a small toxin could have set it all wonky. Too bad I’ll never know.

I was down to 110 pounds when I visited my parents last week (I am sooo homesick!!!) and got some IV fluid. And then the official downfall of at-home recovery began. Eclairs, macaroni and cheese, oyster crackers, mini muffins, milk (gasp!), and other sundry things I wouldn’t have dared let near me 2 weeks before were somehow finding their way down my throat…and my parents were so proud. But I didn’t care anymore. The allure of home and comfort food was intoxicating.

Ultimately my skin hasn’t changed for the better (I hear that kind of change can take more like 5 years), my quality of life was down, and I was tired of the fruit flies following me (they really do just start appearing). So, I guess it had to end somehow. I just never knew quite how it would. Much like many things in my life which I know will eventually change…but how? Well, we solved this mystery. Life has a funny way of intervening in ways you wouldn’t have planned, in ways that find you answers you may have been looking for all along. If throwing up 7 times in one night was how this had to happen, then so be it I guess…oh, how I missed you ravioli (and my other hot, hot food crushes, above).

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Tags: corn, failure, mashed potatoes, ravioli, raw vegan, tuna melt