Now free for all to read... Visiting Portland, I had birds on my mind. Especially those seen in the "Put a bird on it" sketch in the TV show Portlandia. Then I met one:
Growing up, I’d always been a pretty health-conscious individual.
But, my quest for optimum wellness went overboard when I got my hands on a trendy health tonic - celery juice. It all started innocently enough, but soon spiraled out of control.
I was first introduced to the "magic potion" by an influencer on social media who touted it as the panacea for virtually every ailment. It was said to cleanse the liver, reduce inflammation, improve digestion, and much more.
"What could go wrong?", I thought, and hopped on the bandwagon.
Morning after morning, I would push through the bitter taste, telling myself that it was worth it for the miraculous benefits. I began losing weight, my skin was clearer, and I felt more energetic than ever before. I was elated; it was working, or so it seemed.
But soon, I began to notice troubling signs. I was constantly dehydrated and irritable, I felt lightheaded, my teeth began to feel sensitive from the acidity of the juice, and, paradoxically, my digestion got worse. The obsession with celery juice had taken over my life. I was spending absurd amounts of money on celery, and I wouldn’t even consider skipping a day without the juice, despite the negative effects it was having on my health.
That’s when the intervention happened. My family and friends, who had been watching my celery fixation grow with concern, sat me down one day. They had brought along a nutritionist and a therapist to discuss my health and my mental state.
"We're worried about you," my sister started. "This obsession with celery juice isn't healthy. You're hurting yourself."
The nutritionist explained to me how the benefits of celery juice were exaggerated, how it could lead to nutrient deficiencies if relied on too heavily, and how it was no substitute for a balanced, varied diet. The therapist helped me understand that I was using celery juice as a crutch, an easy answer to the complex question of health and wellness.
The intervention was a wake-up call, but the path to recovery was far from easy. For weeks, I struggled with my cravings for the bitter juice, my brain having linked it with health and wellbeing. But, the guidance from my therapist and nutritionist, along with the unwavering support from my family and friends, helped me through it.
I started to reintroduce diverse foods into my diet, focusing on balanced, nutritious meals. I worked on my relationship with food and health, understanding that no magic potion can replace a healthy lifestyle. I even started to attend a local support group for people struggling with health fads, finding comfort and guidance in shared experiences.
Slowly but surely, I got back on my feet. I regained the weight I had lost, my teeth no longer ached, and my digestion improved. I felt better, healthier, and strangely liberated.
It’s been two years since my intervention, and I’ve never been better. I maintain a balanced diet, engage in regular exercise, and, most importantly, I’ve developed a healthier perspective towards wellness trends.
Now, I steer clear of celery juice. I’ve learned the hard way that it’s not a miracle cure, but a potent symbol of the dangers of health fads. Instead of chasing after the latest trends, I now rely on the timeless principles of balance, variety, and moderation. And, of course, the occasional indulgence, because life's too short not to enjoy your food.
As for celery juice, well, I still can't look at a celery stalk without feeling a shudder of repulsion. To me, it will always be the "devil's nectar" - a reminder of my journey from obsession to balance.
As recently as a decade ago we had a still very active blogosphere, connected via blogrolls and RSS. Specialised web forums were still mainstream and messenger apps could largely interoperate.
Centralised social media slowly ate that dream. It had plenty of positives, but it pulled more and more people away from the open web and into corporate walled gardens.
Some people kept the dream of decentralisation alive. And now you are here.