Tag Archives: carbohydrates

Tips on How to Survive the Apocalypse

zombie, apocalypise, apocalypse diet, survival, end of the world, diet, food

Surviving the zombie apocalypse means having food in storage. From: http://eleusinianmysteriesofreading.blogspot.ca

After surviving three months of the Apocalypse Diet, where I bought no food and lived off of what was in my place, I have learned a few things. In the event of an apocalypse (choose your poison), whether earthquake, alien invasion, uber contagious supervirus, zombies or a gadzillion insects attacking, how long would you survive? Looking at the necessities before battling the foe, that would be the basic creature comforts: a safe place to sleep, food and water.

It’s always good to have either frozen or sealed jugs of sterile water stored, which will keep indefinitely. In Vancouver, we sometimes get “boil water” advisories when the water table is high or there’s been an issue (rare) with the water system. You’ll want a few other items such as easily accessible flashlights, lighters and candles. You might have tools on your list but food is going to matter most. If the power cut out, then whatever you had in your freezer would have to be eaten first, starting with the meats as they thawed. Extra ice would help, or a cool place outside such as a ground cellar. Probably learning how to pickle items would help or how to salt meats if you had a full-on freezer with too many items rotting.

One thing that was absolutely essential in having fresh vegetables throughout my experiment was a low humidity fridge. It removes so much moisture that foods dry out as opposed to mulching down. I once had grapes turn to raisins over three months in my fridge (yes, another experiment). The secret is to leave as many out of the bags as possible or leave them loosely bagged. Items with high water content such as lettuce, spinach, zucchini will rot first, no matter what. Root vegetables will last longest. Apples will last longer than berries.

And of course, it’s important to have a lot of carbohydrates stored: potatoes, yams, rice, quinoa, pasta, flour, barley, beans, etc. I had all of these items and still hadn’t quite run out after three months. I learned some interesting things about eating patterns while eating for the apocalypse. I did eat less. I stretched out my vegetables and proteins by upping the carb content. Carbs fill you up. This explains diets of people who are poor. They’re often undernourished and eat too many fats and carbs, the easiest and cheapest way to feel full. I’ve heard people arrogantly say before that a person who is “fat” should just “lose weight.” It’s not always that easy without knowing the backgrounds, such as physical, mental or environmental disorders.  I consider poverty an environmental disorder.

I also rediscovered some foods; that barley is actually tasty and bulgar wheat isn’t bad, that potato flour can’t be substituted for

apocalypse, zombies, end of the world, survival, food, eating,

May the apocalypse be nothing more than a nightmare. From deviantart.com, artist: arcipello

rice or wheat flour in baking, that coconut milk, peanut butter and soy sauce make a quick and easy Thai curry. I am a food concocter at the best of times, throwing in this and that, so some dishes I never commented on as they’re my normal range of mad scientist fare. An adaptable mind will help as supplies run out.

As well, I found the archaic beasts that had lived in my cupboards for far too long: the raisins (gone to the neighbor), really dead prunes, a host of dried fruit I don’t eat, sauerkraut that will outlive cockroaches. I used up a lot of little bits of this and that but still have the fruit from liqueurs I made about ten years ago. I need to make muffins of this or throw it out. If the apocalypse happened in a month or two I’m sure I could survive another three months as I’ve restocked quickly. Buying in bulk is often cheaper. If it’s the growing season it won’t be as bad for fresh food, even if my freezer is relatively empty. Here’s to surviving the apocalypse.

Advertisements

5 Comments

Filed under Culture, entertainment, food, horror

Eating Disorders and the Forbidden Food

I grew up with an eating disorder. It’s not that I wanted to be a super skinny creature after seeing too many anorexic models and movie stars. I didn’t want to layer myself in cushions of fat to keep the world at bay. Really, to this day, I don’t know what my reasoning was but I know I had no control.

The background is that my father sexually abused my older sister and me. That leaves a lifetime of scars. I don’t have statistics before me but I know in the past that I’ve read that something like 80% of people who were sexually abused have eating disorders. Cause and effect.

For me, it was a bit of a different style. I wouldn’t starve myself, but I would binge, but never throw up. I was missing that second half of the bulimic equation. Mostly, from such an unbalanced diet, I would get diarrhea and purge that way. Anorexics and bulimics might take Ex-lax or stick their fingers down their throats to vomit. Mine was more natural. I tried the throwing up thing once and couldn’t do it.

No one ever binges on lettuce or carrots. It’s sweets and carbohydrates; junk food and fatty foods. I was put on a diet by the doctor when I was about 12 (my eating disorder began around the same time). I remember nothing of what I was supposed to eat, except sneaking down to the freezer in the basement and pilfering cookies. When I was in my late teens/early twenties, I would buy candies from various stores. Like an alcoholic, I would try to not hit the same store twice in case they started to recognize and judge me. I never had any change in my purse because I used every spare cent for sugary crap.

Once I was going off to dance class. (I was living with my boyfriend but I hid my sweet secret from him too.) I had a bag of smarties (or something similar). I threw it in the dumpster when I left for the class but when I came home, I dug it out, ashamed but unable to stop myself. No one knew I had this eating disorder. It was a dark secret, a terrible stigma. When I moved to Vancouver it continued, in my home, when alone. I ate normally in front of people.

I tried diets several times. But my pattern of not eating much and then binging on a full bag of cookies, a box of chocolates, a carton of ice cream, continued. Diets worked to a degree, until one year. I tried Weight Watchers and gained in the first week. I hated myself. I weighed 175 lbs, more than I’d ever weighed, I was single but all my friends weren’t, and I’d fallen in love (accidentally) with a man who couldn’t love me. I nearly became an alcoholic, recognizing that abyss only when I was hanging over it by a thread.

Finally desperate enough, I went to my doctor and said, “Some of my friends think I have an eating disorder.” She said, “Which friends?” I said, “Well, me.” Then she asked if I’d been sexually abused and I burst out crying, while at the same time I sat there and watched myself cry, feeling odd and disassociated with my reaction. She sent me to a psychiatrist who specialized in eating disorders. He asked me if I’d been sexually abused and I had the same disassociated reaction. At the end of that first session he said my eating disorder had nothing to do with being sexually abused. ??WTF? Then he put me on various meds like Prozac and Fenfluramine, and then Fluvoxamine when the first didn’t work. He promised that I would lose weight. I never did.

The counselling of course was nil and I’d go to his evening sessions with all the skinny anorexic models and me. At least I hadn’t known someone who died from their disorder, like they did. One thing I had never felt when eating was full. That mechanism had malfunctioned and I would only feel full when I’d binged so I never stopped eating soon enough. The medications, which made me somewhat zombie like to my friends, did not aid in losing weight, but did in fact seem to bring in that mechanism of feeling full. A year later, frustrated with the lack of progress with this doctor and with the unending pills, I just quit both. What I found was that I could now eat and feel full. Something had changed.

A year or so later my doctor asked me how I was doing, did I still binge? And I said, yes I did. She asked me what I considered a binge and I said eating two or more chocolate bars in a day. She told me everyone does that once in a while. What I then realized was that it had never mattered how much I ate but how I felt when I ate: I hated myself for having no control and then I would be was out of control.

I sometimes still get that feeling and it scares me when it happens. I unfortunately still have a sweet tooth, but I eat way healthier, and don’t have to eat all of something. If I’m depressed I tend toward hiding under chocolate. I have to watch that. I might have suffered less and had fewer sensitivities to foods now had someone given me the right help early enough, had my father not scarred my psyche, had I not been ashamed.

I was talking once with friends and the subject of comfort foods came up. I couldn’t name one, because for me, there had never been comfort in food. Just trauma, guilt and self-hatred. These days, I can take comfort in a few foods, like Lipton’s chicken noodle soup, but I never feel I can let my vigilance down because that eating disorder is still just around a corner.

6 Comments

Filed under Culture, environment, family, health care