There's a lot of information out there that links depression with gluten sensitivity. Now I'm not a doctor, or a scientist, though I've got some friends who have mad microscope skills, so I generally go with what Doctor Google tells me when I have health-related questions.
Doctor Google or my in-laws. It's excellent to be related to people in the medical profession when you have an emergency question at 3 in the morning.
But about gluten sensitivity, I go to my other in-laws, who actually deal with Celiac disease on a daily basis. And they've told me that gluten sensitivity causes all sorts of problems one might not think about. Like depression.
But taking gluten out of one's diet is a majorly huge pain in the butt, which is why I did it for a few weeks 2 years ago and then quit. And ever since I've been wondering if I might feel better if I weren't eating gluten.
So a couple of months ago we decided to cut gluten out of our diets again. I've been feeling good. Decently high baseline. Avoiding gluten is still a pain in the butt. And things that contain gluten are really, really yummy.
So yesterday I ate a whole two crumbs of a cake we'd gotten for everybody (except me) to celebrate Father's Day. (I'd gotten my own GF treat so don't go feeling sorry for me and my left-outness.)
And this morning Ryan, um, bumped the tire of the kids' tricycle when we were taking the kids to school. And I burst into tears. I may have yelled. I just might have gotten really really mad.
That tricycle was the symbol of a better life. I imagined the kids riding it up and down the driveway in front of our dream house. I REMEMBERED when Rori got that tricycle for her birthday. It was THE KIDS' TRICYCLE. And now it was BROKEN. And we were NEVER GOING TO GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE and life was NEVER GOING TO BE BETTER and I just might as well stop even trying because what was the point? Life was going to be hopeless forever because a tire on a tricycle got bent.
The replacement part costs $5.
I had a complete breakdown because of a $5 tricycle tire.
It took chocolate to get over it.
Two crumbs, guys. That's all it takes to go completely insane. Two freaking crumbs.
No more gluten for me.