The Ax Murderer’s Diet: Result Just Weird and Kind of Creepy
The Ax Murderer’s Diet: Result Just Weird and Kind of Creepy
Oh, come on, like you aren’t willing to try anything? You’ve tried other ridiculous diets, right?
We spend our nickels and dimes on things that we hope to perfect us. The myriad of products I have in my bathroom is a crime against my designer pocketbook with this super cute embroidered Volkswagen bug on the front.
Alas… I am vain.
Yes, I like pretty, shiny things.
I love lipstick, perfume, diamonds, pearls, blushes, liners, highlighters, soaps, lotions, shadows, exfoliators, rehydrators, line diminishors, enhancers, minimizers, and all things aromatic, lovely or those that give the hope of any aspect of the aforementioned.
I am easily distracted.
And sure, I live a fast paced distractible life. One minute I am writing a book, the next I am changing poopy pants, the next I am fixing a financial debacle for a college-baby, then I am desperately trying to get a child’s head unstuck from the link-n-log canister, and the next I am making a meatloaf.
I have little time to myself, and when I do, I usually want what I want when I want it.
I don’t know that I am selfish or just spread thin. But when and if I ever have a moment for a coherent thought I think of my folly.
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Rarely, wait… never, have I plopped into my chair and thought to myself, “Wow. Everything about my life is freaking fantastic.”
No, I plop into my chair and think about how tight my pants are, how fleshy my upper arm is, or how jiggly I am. I lament the scraps of PB&J I finished off the vandal’s, our 5 and 3-year-old sons, plates because that was all I had time for… that and 11 cups of coffee and a teething biscuit the baby dropped down the front of my blouse.
Finder’s keepers.
So in the moments, I have all to myself this is the mental anguish I pursue.
It’s more habitual than ritual and more ritual than spiritual, yet… I add a spiritual aspect to it – just because eternal damnation is an excellent way to make myself feel every bit of 60+ pounds overweight.
I revel in the ick.
Then I dig around in my bra for another teething biscuit.
And you may have already heard about my naturally thin husband, Justin. He can eat whatever he wants whenever he wants and his pant size never changes.
I fully suspect that he is a serial killer or sociopath, as he is famous in the small town 10 minutes from our ranch for his morning breakfast routine of… one, plain cake donut.
I try not to dwell on this but it is fascinating to me.
Who does this strange thing? This donut shop is probably only making the one donut, Justin’s donut. I can’t fathom a rush on plain cake donuts. But they know Justin will meander in about 7:20 and order that single, dry, flavorless pastry.
Why?
The display is filled with ooey, gooey, deliciously glazed HOT donuts. They are little masterpieces of yeast, flour, lard, and sugar. These delicacies are all the things right with this crazy mixed up world.
And I cannot have them.
I cannot go near them.
I cannot be trusted within 25 feet of the premises.
Once I asked Justin to eat one while I watched. And he looked at me like I WAS CRAZY and said, “Ew no, they make me feel bad.”
I don’t know, he seemed normal when I pledged my life to him.
But I can reasonably deduct that he is either clinically insane or he is apart from the law of do not taste.
That law is not for him.
He doesn’t need it.
He doesn’t think about it.
Similarly, I don’t think of killing someone.
Stay with me.
I never worry I am going to kill someone. That law is not for me. It isn’t an issue for me. I have people I dislike, but I never ever worry that I will stab, poison, chop to bits, hang, mutilate, or shank a fellow human being.
I did kill a guinea pig once.
The weight of his little lifeless body in my hands sent me to the bushes to vomit. It was an accident, one my kids won’t let me ever forget.
And apart from the law sin is dead, so there is the hyper-grace concern that having been told I can murder and Jesus will still love me, I may go postal and kill someone. However, my spirit cannot fathom. My heart is not in the business of killing. The spirit that dwells in me, who loved us while we were still murders and gluttons, loves us unto His death… and just as He has no desire to kill anyone, neither do I.
Furthermore, free from the law of “do not…” what do I want?
Without the harsh condemnation, I had grown accustomed to, free from the slavery of THOU SHALL NOT… what shall I choose?
In a Grace filled existence, the question is no longer what is permissible… but what is beneficial.
The donuts from our little hometown are not off limits, I can have them, and in reality they are only thirty-cents… so I can have a lot of them.
But like Justin, there is an aspect of what it means to eat one or a dozen of these yeasty pastries.
Heartburn.
Weight gain.
Lethargy.
The feeling a potato is lodged in my esophagus.
And the cream filling… self-loathing.
These things are of no benefit to me. The spirit who dwells in me and wants all good for me has no craving for this indulgence that is of no benefit.
And in His wisdom, I grow in mine and of this, I am certain, no matter the law… there is never a reasonable excuse for a plain cake donut.
1 Corinthians 10:23 Everything is permissible, but not everything is beneficial.
May your floors be sticky and your calling ordained. Love Jami
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AND a new favorite: MY HUSBAND IS ON A DIET AND I CAN’T DEAL
Years ago, when I was loosing weight on Weight Watchers, I understood that I could have whatever I want to eat but I mourned for what I really couldn’t eat. I really can’t have lots of doughnuts because my body’s “law” requires that I eat better than that. The law of my body says only one or two cocktails on Friday nights and no gluten, no shrimp, crab, or lobster ever, and no caffeine after 4 PM. I mourn these laws sometimes still because I do love cocktails, bread, shrimp, crab, and lobster, and chocolate and high test coffee and tea. I know that if I take these, the Lord will still love me, and I know that if I am over my goal weight, the Lord does love me. Sometimes, I don’t love myself for being overweight, even when I am not having what my body’s laws says I can’t. I am with you.
❤
Thank You Again for sharing so honestly. The law
Is such a hard master. Sometimes it feels comfortable
To bear the weight of its condemnation until it continues to grow steadily in its burden. And the weariness ensues What a much sweeter perspective to understand that it is really a question of what is beneficial and we have freedom to choose. ❤
Indeed!
Years ago, when I was loosing weight on Weight Watchers, I understood that I could have whatever I want to eat but I mourned for what I really couldn’t eat. I really can’t have lots of doughnuts because my body’s “law” requires that I eat better than that. The law of my body says only one or two cocktails on Friday nights and no gluten, no shrimp, crab, or lobster ever, and no caffeine after 4 PM. I mourn these laws sometimes still because I do love cocktails, bread, shrimp, crab, and lobster, and chocolate and high test coffee and tea. I know that if I take these, the Lord will still love me, and I know that if I am over my goal weight, the Lord does love me. Sometimes, I don’t love myself for being overweight, even when I am not having what my body’s laws says I can’t. I am with you.
The constant awareness of only eating what is beneficial is exhausting. When do I get to coast? Sometimes I’m too tired to think about it all.
I feel you sister. I was really sick last night and I just wanted sweets. Praying for you and asking God to show you how to coast.
I so completely look forward to you posts! Love, love, love the way you write and what you write. I’m delighted I found your blog! 🙂
Dana
Thank you Dana! I’m glad too!!!
I so completely look forward to you posts! Love, love, love the way you write and what you write. I’m delighted I found your blog! 🙂
Dana
Thank you Dana! I’m glad too!!!
The “finder’s keepers” had me bust out laughing in the coffee shop I’ve holed up to write! 🙂 Now, I so get the I have no desire to kill, and wish I had that same “no desire” for donuts and ooey gooey. and I get that your husband has the “no desire” for more than one plain donut and no more than 2 oreos. I’m sure you’ve asked him, so I’ve got to ask: beyond the thought that the ooey gooey doesn’t make him feel good, are there any other rational thoughts in his mind when it comes time to eat one plain donut and only two oreos??? Inquiring minds…
He says, “that’s all I want.”
Wow. I’m impressed.
I honestly thought for years that the reason I was wired to not be able to get enough was because I was the youngest of a large family. But after observing for years, I truly believe people come wired differently. The Bible says “Bread eaten in secret is sweet”
Why is that? Are we born sneaky? My prayer is “Help me to recognize a suffecient amount.”
Is it bad that this post has given me a sudden craving for a cream-filled donut?
No. It makes perfect sense.
You are one of the few people who make me actually LAUGH OUT LOUD. It’s refreshing to know that there is someone out there who is as crazy as I am, yet still somewhat functional. Thank you for your time and your wisdom………
#somewhatfunctional
Hi Jami! I have to tell you, I fasted sweets for three weeks in January and didn’t cheat once. When it is for God, I am better somehow. Anyway, the last week has been an unbridled hog-fest of carbs and sugar. And guess what? I am achy all in my joints (knees, back) and cloudy in the mind. So I am back OFF sweets as of today, allowing for maybe a small dessert per week (if that). I am realizing that I FEEL so much better without the sugar, but I LIKE THE TASTE and the RUSH so much. I had to decide that I don’t want to ache and hurt. My hand has been forced. I will probably mess up, but overall, I know I can’t continue to feel like crud because I am a sugar addict. I know this struggle you describe. I have a hard time having ONE of anything. Not sure there’s a moral to this story, but I feel you. And donuts. I feel them so much. 🙂
❤
Justin and Steve are alike in that quality- my brother can eat a bear, and I think he has and not gained an ounce.. Why didn’t I get that gene? I am thinking Justin got his dad’s genes as well as my dear brother…. I was blessed with my mother’s. Why is that? Isn’t it nice that we are blessed with our earthly parents qualities (some good and some bad) but we are also always blessed with our Almighty’s awesome grace?
Thank you for continuously reminding me of that.
Love you always.
Love you back…
I am SO GLAD that I found your blog (via the They Say podcast). Your writing is really speaking to me, it’s exactly what I need to hear right now..
As for Justin, you suspect he is a serial killer or a sociopath…I think he might be one of those robots from Westworld. 🙂 It makes perfect sense.
I think you’re right!
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