Journey of a Gluten Free Life-Aftermath

After I returned home from our family reunion, I couldn't get rid of my sickness. A couple weeks went by, full of headaches and nausea and covered with fatigue and cold sweats. Due to the anger my stomach was feeling, I stuck to eating bland foods-such as toast, and saltine crackers with the occasional grilled cheese or chicken noodle soup. I was not getting any better, if anything-I was feeling worse with each new day, so the whole month of September was wasted away between my bed and the couch.
Once again, my mother suggested that I try to go off wheat. She now knew another person, besides my great aunt who had such a problem, and thought that going off of gluten would cure me.
I didn't want to do it, and I tried my darndest to prove her wrong. (when will I learn that moms are always right?)

So what did I do? I ate. a lot.

I ate a pizza. I ate a bag of cookies. I ate a box of crackers. I ate toast. I ate sandwiches. I ate everything I could think of that had wheat in it, I even specifically picked a loaf of cinnamon swirl bread that had gluten listed as the first ingredient.
 I ate until my body wanted to let it all back out. I ate until I couldn't possible image eating anything ever again. I ate until I felt my entire body give up on itself, and all I could do was curl up in a ball and let the tears flow out.

But then, then I knew.

I finally realized for myself, that the food I was eating, the foods that I loved so much; were slowly poisoning me.

and I had to stop it.

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