The farmers market more than lived up to it’s expectation as a green, liberal arts, alternative safe haven, in the inner suburban grey, renowned for it’s shopping centre lifestyle and polyester-clad teen mothers. Smug with hand picked organic pride, I snacked on exotic carrots of purple and green and white, heirloom tomatoes, radishes and a medley of fancy ruffled greens dressed liberally in apple cider vinegar. A desert of the purest organic chocolate and a slice of lime in a handmade tumbler filled with the delicate effervescence of a home brewed ginger ale topped off the sun bathed afternoon perfectly.
‘If only I had nice someone to share this terrific abundance with,’ I thought, drunk with satisfaction, I was… actually drunk. I realised that it was an odd kind of, heart racingly, whirlwind of energy, misplacing steps and thinking far too quickly, kind of drunk. And I didn’t like it at all. I was loosing control like that time I ate a bag of dates and told my house mate exactly what I really thought of everything, all at once.
Palpitations, I was having palpitations! My heart was going a-thump-thump a bump-bump through my chest like it would after climbing a hill on bike, but I hadn’t left the kitchen. I was to find out that this was because I was a special kind of person. I had a sensitive new age sensitivity to salicylates. I knew that gluten could make me stoned via morphine like proteins locking into overactive opiate receptors in my special brain, but salicylates making me drunk was new.
I pondered about how I was able to become drunk and stoned off unrestricted chemicals available to those of all ages. What if everyone was like this? Constantly effected by the chemicals they ingest, and it dawned on me that they probably were. Only most people don’t know it was food and just get labeled with a behavioral disorder. The hyped up, go go go, not thinking straight, can’t focus, silly drunk feeling I’m experiencing could be ADHD. When I’m out of it, removed from consciousness, staring at walls, can’t relate to others, focusing on infinity, stoned, like I get while eating bread, that’s not far off autism. Maybe I had just had a first hand account of the link between mood and diet*.
Armed with this knowledge of how everyone can improve their lives through highly restrictive dieting, I was now going to be the most annoying friend ever.
*Another note from 2017: Yeeeaaah… It was actually ADHD making me revved up and the stoned feeling is an offshoot of that diagnosis called inattentive ADHD. Diagnosed with combined type now so I’ve stopped being so concerned about food chemicals warping my perceptions. I was susceptible to these changes in perception, felt that there were triggers and was desperate for answers. Where no doctors or teachers ever picked me for having ADHD, and largely dismissed my concerns, the alternative crowd was all too happy to acknowledge that something was wrong. This was hugely validating and it seemed that they had far more answers to my questions than anyone else at the time. Unfortunately they were mostly snake oil and vitamin sellers. The whole ordeal wasted years of my life and lead me down a lot of dimly lit misdirections before I ending up back on the right track with an official diagnosis. Believing that alternative health is a crock seems like common sense but when you’ve been living with something invisible your entire life and no one can tell you what it is, the promise of answers starts looking attractive no matter where they come from. The realisation that alternative health is for the most part bullshit when it’s also the only available ear to your problems is a hurdle to get past. Guess it’s a lot like religion in some regards. It’s something that many a chronic illness/neuro-atypical person has to face. I’m hugely grateful for new found understandings and quietly hopeful for the future.