On Monday this week, I cut sugar, salt, dairy, wheat, and caffeine out of my diet. Started training for a couple races this summer, no time like the present to kick it into high gear.
I believe I am going through withdrawl.
I am very low on energy. Super crabby. Headaches like someone is flossing my brain. I've done this before, and I know this will all subside in a week or two, but it's like hell on earth at the moment.
Since my restrictions, my dreams have been more run-of-the-mill, boring, and short. I used to look forward to getting up in the morning and rehashing the fantastical situations I lived in my dreams, and analyzing what they meant.
What do they mean now? Huh. Not much.
Let's see, in one I went to Schnucks and bought ground turkey which was on special 2/$4. In another I went through the post office drive-thru to mail off my Netflix movies. See? Completely sad.
The one from the other morning was about a friend of mine who shared his movie list with me, which consisted of 1940's flicks. I'll admit that one was a bit trippy, because this guy is the ultimate closet punker (well, so he says), and I would think his movie list would be a bit more dramatic and edgy.
I do know that in the past, the closer I ate to bedtime, and the more sugar or starch it contained, the more wicked my dreams would be. Which was fun. I experiemented from time to time, and I could write a book.
In the end, I'm going to stick to my new health regime, but am sad that my alter-ego who resides in my dreamscape will have to be put to rest for awhile.
