Part Two of "My beautiful so-called eating disorder"
(12/18/2014) It started when I moved to New York during what has since been deemed the dirtiest and most crime-ridden decade of the century. I loved it anyway, but I couldn't quite get used to the fact that every surface one touched was sticky: subway straps, elevator buttons, pay phones, doorknobs, even faucets in the restrooms. Having grown up in a home where everything was disinfected CONSTANTLY with Lysol and Clorox, this was hard to tolerate. My feelings of joy at being in this grand city were punctuated by shudders of revulsion (and this was long before various TV investigations informed us that practically every surface around us is covered with fecal matter and seminal fluid).
I launched my career of pill-taking innocently enough, ingesting a Vitamin C tablet several times a day to ward off the germs. Then I read that zinc boosts immunity and is good for your skin, so I added that. Then I read that Vitamin E maintained heart health, so I thought "why not?"
And thus it began.
