Self-Deprecation (test)

German poet, Charles Bukowski once wrote, “Find what you love and let it kill you”. Loving something to such an extent as this has always been easy for me. Ever since I was very young I’ve had an extremely obsessive personality. I’ve always loved a lot of things, but I didn’t just love them- I loved them large. So large, in fact, that these things seemed to overtake my life. Take Care Bears for example. When I was about five or six, these small, colorful bears weren’t just more stuffed animals to add to my very large collection. They were my entire life. Everything I owned had to be Care Bear related. Care Bear pencils, Care Bear pillows, Care Bear pajamas, Care Bear blankets, etc. Every time I noticed something Care Bear related in a store I would bother and pester my mother until she caved and let me buy it. I would also, regrettably, cause a horrible scene involving screaming, pathetically begging, and crying if she refused my pleas. My bedroom at my grandmother’s house was not even close to complete without my Care Bear comforter set. I was never able to hold a conversation with anyone without making unnecessary comments about those bears. As I grew older, my obsessions grew older with me. I soon ditched the Care Bear phase and moved on to whatever caught my attention at the time. Whether it was animals, certain colors, movies, foods, TV shows, or bands, something was always on my obsessive radar.

            When I was fourteen, I made the choice to alter my dietary habits by picking up vegetarianism. I had pondered my decision for quite some time before making the switch. I spent many moments alone with my thoughts weighing out the pros and cons of a meat-free lifestyle. I kept thinking about all the animals I could spare by not eating meat. Like cows. I love cows. I mean, just look at them. They’re so innocent and helpless. They just stand in fields day in and day out grazing to their hearts content. Killing something so sweet and harmless seemed merciless in my opinion. I also couldn’t stop thinking about pigs. Have you ever seen Charlotte’s Web? Every time I ate pork or ham the only thing that came to mind was that pig, Wilbur. I just couldn't eat little Wilbur’s anymore. Going vegetarian would clear my conscience regarding cute farm animals like cows and pigs.

            However, one con in particular stuck out in my mind. Going meat-less would mean I would have to remove chicken from my diet. And I love chicken. Like really love chicken. The thought of parting with it seemed torturous to me. If this sounds really stupid to you, just think of your favorite food in the entire world and imagine never being able to eat it again. Ever. Are you imagining it? Well, that’s how I felt.

            But, nonetheless, I made my decision to go vegetarian. The switch seemed easy at first until I went out to eat with my family. I can’t remember the restaurant at the moment since the only thing burned into my memory was this: we were seated at a table in a quiet corner of the restaurant. Seated nearby was a kind looking middle aged couple that just got their food delivered to their table. Usually, I’m not one for people watching, but today was different. The woman at that table had ordered a huge plate of chicken parmesan (the man had ordered something completely irrelevant to me). When I saw it, my heart snapped and it felt like someone had thrown a chicken sized brick at my chest. Here I was, vegetarian, sitting directly across from some random omnivorous stranger eating my favorite food in the entire universe. It was unbearable. Call me rude for staring, but I could not stop. A small part of my soul withered away with every bite she took. It was almost like she knew. She knew I had given up meat and she knew I wanted her chicken parm more than I wanted air in my lungs.

            The entire rest of the night was torture as I ate my salad, trying to forget about the chicken eating episode I just witnessed. When I returned home, all I could think about was chicken and how I’d probably never taste it again, seeing to that I kept my vegetarian habits up. Chicken had overtaken my thoughts.

            To make a long story short, and to spare you of any more pathetic details, I quit vegetarianism as one might expect. It took two years of will power and self-control until I caved. My infatuation was too much. I still don’t eat beef or pork, but being able to eat my first chicken nugget since I was fourteen this summer was life changing.