ignis, glacies et pertinacia

Posts Tagged ‘flitful’

Get your oats, or your goat’s yoghurt, or your g/f bread…

In Department of Nutrition, Department of Psychology, Food diary on January 10, 2010 at 9:19 pm

One of the ways that my maxims and priorities shift is with food. Managing to eat no sugar, no yeast, no gluten or dairy products, no fruit, no starchy vegetables, no fermented products, etc. etc. even, on some accounts, no grains, is, as you can well imagine, phenomenally difficult. What makes it worse is that there are, as I have indicated, so many different conceptions of the diet.

One type of diet which certainly benefits me is the candida diet. There are many forms of this. Some recommend that no fruit whatever be consumed with the diet since even fruit sugars help the candida parasite to thrive. Others recommend fresh juices and smoothies. Some say there may be no gluten. Others recommend whole wheat flour. Some say that honey can be consistent with the diet, it being a shorter chain sugar.

Then there is the gluten free, casein free diet for those with autism and other neurodevelopmental disorders. This also benefits me. But of course, because the gluten and casein are avoided due to the fact that they break down into neurotoxins/opiates it is, in most conceptions of this diet, unnecessary to avoid sugars etc. One consequence of this is that whenever my mind has shifted towards this diet and I have allowed myself these sugary mass-produced gluten and dairy-free products that exclusively fill the free-from shelves, I have become very angry very quickly, my head full of intrusive daydreams and abstract anger.

Then there is the tricky problem of alcohol. There is a slight difference in the severity of the effects of beer and wine, which really knock me about for a couple of weeks, and spirits, which don’t affect me quite so badly, or in quite the same way. This small difference often becomes exaggerated in my mind, and also falls prey to the shift of priorities in my mind that keeping in touch with friends who may struggle with me when I’m not drinking, my social skills needing a little helping hand, is more important than excluding all substances which may aggravate a problem with candida, a maxim which most often alternates with the ‘weighty’ conception of life (on Milan Kundera’s polarity, discussed above) and of Candida in which it is necessary to be almost inhumanly disciplined for a period of a few months to wipe out the problem for good.

Most recently, a reading of a piece by Erica White on the Institute for Optimum Nutrition website sent her conception of the Candida diet racing up in the maxim stakes, replacing, to a degree, the one that has been foregrounded for a couple of months, that of the Gut & Psychology diet of Natasha Campbell-McBride. This led to my buying oatcakes on going out to buy water, and then, going further, to pop into Sainsbury’s, buying both gluten free porridge and rolled oats with soya milk.

On this conception, it would be better to eat a little gluten but be consistent with the diet by introducing a few ingredients that may be a little less bland than the usual fare, than to struggle so hard to exclude everything, but break every now and again and feed the candida by doing so, as I did, almost inevitably, over Christmas. Read the rest of this entry »

The long dark weekend of the soul

In Autism Research Unit, Progress Review, Unforgiving Minutes, Work Diary, Writing Diary on September 26, 2009 at 11:44 pm
What is it about weekends that I am doomed always to spend them in a state of high anxiety, flitting from one thing to another, unhappy in each of these pursuits?

Today is, or certainly could have been, a case in point. I got up a little late having gone to see a film last night (on my own, perhaps emboldenened by stuff asperger people like‘s #24 Dating Themselves, something I have commented on at the bottom of the post) watching Newsnight Review and then kicking around posting nonsense on The Booker Shortlist and letching over typewriters on E-Bay.

Everest Model 90

Everest Model 90

This is what happens when I have nothing to do with myself. Well, I’ve stocked up my E-bay watch list, and put in a few wanted ads here and there. Indeed, When I did, finally, get up this morning after getting to bed so late, and when I settled down onto the computer to write a few UoG posts, hoping indeed that this might become a sustaining routine for me over the next few weekends, Dad came back and told me he had been down the car boot sale looking for typewriters. Well, for typewriters and fishing rods for himself and a couple of other things, but basically, he wouldn’t be there if it weren’t for the fact I have been obsessed with typewriters since one of my several new, plasticky portables broke on me when I was working up in the summerhouse about a month ago. Since then my routine has been punctured, and I’ve been working on my aesthetically, sonically beautiful Imperial Model 50 upstairs with and without earplugs to block out the noises of my mum and dad (quietly) going about their business.

Back when I first quit work and took to writing full time – supported by my ever-understand (ok, recently ever-understanding) parents, I was going up to the summerhouse every day to write. That short 30 second walk, and the ritual, often enough, of tucking myself into my sleeping bag was really important, and kept me going. I was up there often enough, from nine in the morning until ten at night. Ok, with sometimes long breaks in between. But I kept going. Read the rest of this entry »