I went vegan for a month at Ohio Northern University.
The best way to describe this experience is through the five stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance). This article concerns the fourth stage, depression.
Trying something new is fun until you start to miss the way things were.
The late stages of my veganism journey were my quarter-life crisis. Keeping up the vegan gig for three weeks was an exciting accomplishment, but looking into the future, I constantly wondered if I could keep it up forever.
Now, I know what you’re thinking: Weren’t you only supposed to be vegan for a month?
That’s true. At least, that was the assignment. But towards the end of February, I found that it’s not that simple.
The scariest truth about veganism is that it’s completely possible.
Sure, it’s a major life change. It’s difficult at times. It’s rough to do on the ONU meal plan. But I was doing it. I jumped in head first and learned how to swim. I was vegan, like actually vegan.
I was doing something that I never thought I could do. Finding that veganism was possible, even for someone like me, created one of the largest moral dilemmas of my life.
I need you to understand that being vegan is morally satisfying. There is nothing quite like the feeling of knowing your actions line up with your beliefs. My cognitive dissonance of believing that animals deserve to be treated humanely yet consuming meat and animal products despite this fact was resolved. There is a certain peace and moral harmony that comes from acting consistently with your values, and I felt this wholeheartedly.
It’s not like my month-long veganism stunt cured the world of factory farming or animal cruelty, but I slept a little better knowing that I wasn’t contributing to the problem.
It’s awfully hard to justify not doing the right thing when it is completely possible. It’s even harder to stop doing the right thing after you’ve proven that you can do it for three weeks straight.
Members of the jury, I present to you: the depression stage of veganism.
Should I revert back to living a lie, or stay vegan forever?
Talk about a rock and a hard place.
If staying vegan forever was the right thing to do, then why did it make me feel so sad?
All I could think about was my favorite tradition with my dad. For as long as I can remember, we’ve gone out on Saturday mornings to a local diner, and we both always order the same thing: biscuits and gravy with two eggs over easy on top with chocolate milk. Guess what part of that meal is vegan? None of it. I would never be able to share that meal with my dad again.
That’s not all. I would never be able to enjoy my mom’s lasagna again. Never eat my favorite Chipotle order again. Never make buffalo chicken dip for my friends again. Never have ice cream at my local parlor again. Never make our special recipe Easter cookies with my sister again.
Maybe worse, I feared how I would explain to my mamaw that I could no longer eat the chicken noodle soup she makes me every time I’m sick. How could I convince my friends that they should eat the Cinnabon Delights from Taco Bell without me and not feel guilty? How would I look my family in the eyes and tell them that I can’t eat the Thanksgiving turkey anymore?
Forever is a long, long time.
Although I’m not diagnosed with depression, and I refuse to use that term casually out of respect for those who are, I can certainly assure you that this dilemma made me really, really sad.
What an impossible decision to make.
Revert back to living a lie, or stay vegan forever?
This slowly but surely started to seem like a lose-lose situation for me. And maybe that’s just a glimpse of what depression really is.
I started to dread the end of February.
Oh, to live in that 28-day bubble again.
February was safe. February was the best of both worlds. I could act on my moral convictions. I could stand on the moral high ground. I could do what I truly believed to be right. But I could still assure my closest family and friends that I was just vegan for a month. I could assure them that we’d all be eating our favorite dishes together again soon. I could assure them that it’s not forever. Because forever is a long, long time.
In February, I could have my (vegan) cake and eat it, too.
Suddenly, I went from counting down the days of February to wishing they wouldn’t end.
On March 1st, a decision would be made.
A decision for which I had no answer. A decision that I could not ponder without a deep understanding that this was the depression stage of my veganism journey.
Yet, there was no stopping time. February 28th was on the way, and I could hear my own guillotine being raised.
Like so many things in life, I would have to make a decision and stick with it.
Acceptance was waiting for me.
Tune in to my next article to continue my veganism journey and hear about the fifth stage: acceptance.
If you want to watch my quarter-life crisis in real time, follow @sunnygoesvegan on Instagram. It won’t disappoint.