There was a time in my life where I was what some would call a vegetarian. I did not eat any red meat or pork. The chicken was a very rare sight on my plate, but I did eat fish. At the time I was living in the midwest and the big thing there was fish. Every Friday there was a fish fry somewhere…
Anyway, my journey to my beef-free life began after watching a documentary about the beef industry. They showed me a little too much, including how the cows died etc, and it was really traumatizing to me. I mean, seriously. I cried like a big idiot.. and then my husband came home and I declared that I was no longer going to eat anything that caused harm to an animal.
Cows Are My Friends
I lived the life fairly well all while still cooking beef and such for my husband. I never tried to force my beliefs down his throat and I am sure he really appreciated that. Every now and then he’d have a burger and I would ask for a bite, and then regret it and vow to never do it again.
I had made a promise to myself that I would not become one of those frantic vegetarians who threw myself on the ground when I discovered that I might have eaten some beans cooked in bacon grease.1 In fact, I took pleasure in laughing at those types of people whenever I saw them on TV having fits over it.
Cows Are Yummy
Fast forward three years. It was late December and my DH’s company was going to have its annual Christmas party at Brett Favre’s Steakhouse. I was very excited about it because well, I thought maybe I could meet Brett Favre.2 They had sent us some forms to fill out in regards to what we wanted to eat. I could pick from chicken, shrimp or steak. They were offering us some top quality prime rib so I said what the hell, I’ll get that.
My DH was quite worried about my choice and up until they brought us the food kept asking me if I was sure about my decision. I kept telling him I was fine… I would be fine. Just fine. Really fine.
The prime rib was delicious. Oh my god. Every bite was like some yummy goodness that words can’t even describe. Everyone made jokes about it3 and checked on me frequently to make sure that I wasn’t going to regret my choice. I really thought everyone had gone insane, because remember, I was never going to be one of those crazy people.
After we all done we exchanged hugs and headed out, chatting and laughing as we got into our cars.
Sane Girl Go Boom
As we were driving down the highway headed towards home, I was still laughing and chatting with my DH… and then it happened. I suddenly, without rhyme or reason, burst into tears. I became some frantic mess of nerves. Naturally my DH was wondering what the hell was my problem and I wasn’t revealing too much about the exact cause of my breakdown.
And then out of no where, I began screaming, “I murdered
the
cows!!! I
murdered the cows!!!!!
It’s my
fault they are
now dead!! “I murdered the cows!!! I murdered the cows!!!!! It’s my fault they are now dead!! Holy fuck, I am a MURDERER!!!!!”
Because my DH was a smart man, he figured he should not be driving down an interstate with his wife acting like a deranged lunatic so he pulled over to the shoulder. He calmed me down as best as he could4 and then drive us home.
I got home and threw up over and over and over. I wanted no parts of that poor cow left in me. And then to punish myself, I fasted for three days.
After I fasted, I sat down to eat a nice salad when it dawned on me that I had finally gone over the deep end. I had broken the one promise I had made to myself, and that wasn’t going to work for me.
I’ve been eating meat ever since.
