mattypolso
New Member
- Joined
- Dec 3, 2017
- Messages
- 2
Hello everyone,
I've been lurking on this forum for a year or so whilst getting familiar with Ray Peat's ideas. Having just turned 30 as a Caucasian male, I find myself reflecting on lifestyle choices up to this moment, and the trajectory I'm on for the foreseeable future.
My parents were heavy drinkers when they were younger, and both were prone to bouts of stressful, irrational, and conspiratorial thinking. They thought they were different to everyone else, a level above, and eventually they would raise me to think the same of myself. An outsider. As though it was an achievement.
My earliest memories, as a little baby, are of meals consisting entirely of lamb chops, probably fried in vegetable oil, or entirely of pasta. I never liked milk, cheese, or eggs. I don't remember playing outside much, and as a result not very athletic. I always felt smaller and slower than the kids I was forced to play with. Although my face was symmetrical, my posture always looked a little crooked. I don't remember having any real friends. The social events I do remember had me hiding in a corner somewhere, feeling like a different species. My family now tell me that I had a violent temper as a child. And I can still remember the heaviness in my chest and the pressure in my temples as I tried to get my own way. I get this from my dad.
My weight was up and down all through my childhood. Looking back through family albums, one minute I was too thin, then chubby, then too thin, then too chubby. I never looked a nice healthy weight.
My parents, in an attempt to cover up my sickly complexion, would smother me with hairspray, moisturizer, and sometimes foundation to cover my pimples. This would later turn into aggressive acne at university, which forced me into the arms of a low-carb diet, and we had a threesome with bingedrinking. I can still remember the nauseating bite of hairspray in my nostrils and throat, and how my mum would pinch my cheeks before dropping me off at school to draw out some color.
I was extremely self-conscious throughout school and university, and never had more than 1 or 2 close friends. Having been raised to feel different, I had a hard time opening up to anyone - about my acne, poor physique, pitiful penis - and any glimmers of connection felt like they required a performance to sustain. My first two romantic relationships, at 15 and 19, left me in pieces. I felt on the verge of a heart attack at 15. I didn't lose my virginity until 20. I was so anxious about sex that my girlfriend had to force herself on me.
Around this time, it was chicken breast and wholewheat toast for dinner, or tuna, lettuce and a cup of olive oil. The doctors told me this might calm my relentless acne. It did, and it also made my hair fall out. I was balding rapidly at 20. So I turned to drinking, like everyone else. I must have been chugging 30 litres of beer a week with some spirits here and there.
As my body deteriorated, and all dietary fat went straight to my stomach, my digestion became sluggish. It took me years to find out that a fluffy yellow stool with bits of undigested food wasn't normal. Of course, this is where obsessive and conspiratorial thinking set in. People would often remark that I was vacant or miles away. And I was, delving deep into the endless abstract logic of daydreaming.
By this point I was 21 and leaving university. I was having to find elaborate ways to hide my balding head, skinny limbs, and bloated stomach. I was fortunate to be surrounded by nice people, but my sense of humor became cynical and sarcastic. I spent the next 4 years in a trance, turning my life over and over in my head, disconnected and trying to figure out how to get back on my feet and make something of myself.
The whole time I was consumed by negative thinking, eating a low-carb, high-PUFA, high-iron and high-fluid diet whilst dowsing myself in estrogen to try and disguise myself.
25 was a big turning point. After a violent row with my dad about sitting around on my ****, I started my own business. Within 2 years I was a homeowner with a beautiful girlfriend and a stable career. I have some great friends and a lot to look forward to.
But my physical and mental health still feels like my dirty secret. I still have thin hair, despite all efforts to hide it. I have a skinny-fat body, lackluster skin, and a bloated stomach. My food tolerances seem to change day by day. My erections are weak and I can't go for more than a few minutes. I can't put on muscle no matter how hard I try and any weight I do put on goes straight to my stomach and cheeks. I'm much more comfortable socially, but I still can't shake the feeling that everyone secretly dislikes me they're close to discovering that I'm just acting. My natural tendency is still to overthink everything.
I found Peat a year ago, and I've seen intermittent improvements in my health. Carbs have reentered my life in a big way, as have milk, cheese, and eggs. PUFA is no longer welcome. However, I'm still finding it hard to find any sort of consistency. Somedays I feel like falling asleep at my desk and I just can't figure out why. Sometimes I feel irrationally angry for no reason. Sometimes I just can't sleep. This is all when keeping my diet and lifestyle choices as consistent as possible.
However, I'm a patient man and I feel much better living this way.
Is there hope for me finding the sort of health I've longed for my entire life? Can I have that impressive physique? Can I have those rosie cheeks? Effortless bowel movements? That calm and quiet confidence around other people?
Or can 30 years of PUFA, estrogen, iron overload, and mental stress cause irreparable damage to the human body?
I've been lurking on this forum for a year or so whilst getting familiar with Ray Peat's ideas. Having just turned 30 as a Caucasian male, I find myself reflecting on lifestyle choices up to this moment, and the trajectory I'm on for the foreseeable future.
My parents were heavy drinkers when they were younger, and both were prone to bouts of stressful, irrational, and conspiratorial thinking. They thought they were different to everyone else, a level above, and eventually they would raise me to think the same of myself. An outsider. As though it was an achievement.
My earliest memories, as a little baby, are of meals consisting entirely of lamb chops, probably fried in vegetable oil, or entirely of pasta. I never liked milk, cheese, or eggs. I don't remember playing outside much, and as a result not very athletic. I always felt smaller and slower than the kids I was forced to play with. Although my face was symmetrical, my posture always looked a little crooked. I don't remember having any real friends. The social events I do remember had me hiding in a corner somewhere, feeling like a different species. My family now tell me that I had a violent temper as a child. And I can still remember the heaviness in my chest and the pressure in my temples as I tried to get my own way. I get this from my dad.
My weight was up and down all through my childhood. Looking back through family albums, one minute I was too thin, then chubby, then too thin, then too chubby. I never looked a nice healthy weight.
My parents, in an attempt to cover up my sickly complexion, would smother me with hairspray, moisturizer, and sometimes foundation to cover my pimples. This would later turn into aggressive acne at university, which forced me into the arms of a low-carb diet, and we had a threesome with bingedrinking. I can still remember the nauseating bite of hairspray in my nostrils and throat, and how my mum would pinch my cheeks before dropping me off at school to draw out some color.
I was extremely self-conscious throughout school and university, and never had more than 1 or 2 close friends. Having been raised to feel different, I had a hard time opening up to anyone - about my acne, poor physique, pitiful penis - and any glimmers of connection felt like they required a performance to sustain. My first two romantic relationships, at 15 and 19, left me in pieces. I felt on the verge of a heart attack at 15. I didn't lose my virginity until 20. I was so anxious about sex that my girlfriend had to force herself on me.
Around this time, it was chicken breast and wholewheat toast for dinner, or tuna, lettuce and a cup of olive oil. The doctors told me this might calm my relentless acne. It did, and it also made my hair fall out. I was balding rapidly at 20. So I turned to drinking, like everyone else. I must have been chugging 30 litres of beer a week with some spirits here and there.
As my body deteriorated, and all dietary fat went straight to my stomach, my digestion became sluggish. It took me years to find out that a fluffy yellow stool with bits of undigested food wasn't normal. Of course, this is where obsessive and conspiratorial thinking set in. People would often remark that I was vacant or miles away. And I was, delving deep into the endless abstract logic of daydreaming.
By this point I was 21 and leaving university. I was having to find elaborate ways to hide my balding head, skinny limbs, and bloated stomach. I was fortunate to be surrounded by nice people, but my sense of humor became cynical and sarcastic. I spent the next 4 years in a trance, turning my life over and over in my head, disconnected and trying to figure out how to get back on my feet and make something of myself.
The whole time I was consumed by negative thinking, eating a low-carb, high-PUFA, high-iron and high-fluid diet whilst dowsing myself in estrogen to try and disguise myself.
25 was a big turning point. After a violent row with my dad about sitting around on my ****, I started my own business. Within 2 years I was a homeowner with a beautiful girlfriend and a stable career. I have some great friends and a lot to look forward to.
But my physical and mental health still feels like my dirty secret. I still have thin hair, despite all efforts to hide it. I have a skinny-fat body, lackluster skin, and a bloated stomach. My food tolerances seem to change day by day. My erections are weak and I can't go for more than a few minutes. I can't put on muscle no matter how hard I try and any weight I do put on goes straight to my stomach and cheeks. I'm much more comfortable socially, but I still can't shake the feeling that everyone secretly dislikes me they're close to discovering that I'm just acting. My natural tendency is still to overthink everything.
I found Peat a year ago, and I've seen intermittent improvements in my health. Carbs have reentered my life in a big way, as have milk, cheese, and eggs. PUFA is no longer welcome. However, I'm still finding it hard to find any sort of consistency. Somedays I feel like falling asleep at my desk and I just can't figure out why. Sometimes I feel irrationally angry for no reason. Sometimes I just can't sleep. This is all when keeping my diet and lifestyle choices as consistent as possible.
However, I'm a patient man and I feel much better living this way.
Is there hope for me finding the sort of health I've longed for my entire life? Can I have that impressive physique? Can I have those rosie cheeks? Effortless bowel movements? That calm and quiet confidence around other people?
Or can 30 years of PUFA, estrogen, iron overload, and mental stress cause irreparable damage to the human body?
