Yesterday I decided to keep a diary of my addiction to sugar. I will be kicking sugar soon, and writing about the journey. I've been a sugar addict all my life. I am Type 2 diabetic and have tended to overweight all my life. This predilection runs in my family. I observe it in my nieces and nephews. They're all carb-crazed and overweight. I am too. I hide it. I hide the problem. I hide the eating. Sometimes it feels like sugar and junk food rule my life. I tell myself it's not that bad. Others tell me it's not that bad, but it is.
Carbs and sugar make me feel good. Bread, cereal, ice cream, chocolate, cakes, pies, cookies, sweet drinks all give me a kick and wrap me in their sweetness. But the good feeling only lasts as long as the stuff is in my mouth. Afterwards, I feel foggy, depressed, bloated, irritable, generally ill at ease. The next day I feel stuffed, sluggish, constipated, tired. the only things that can get me going are caffeine and more sugar.
I eat until I can't stand it anymore. Then I pour my stash down the sink or into the dumpster, with the words, "Never again." Sometimes my resolve lasts. Usually it only lasts until after lunch, when I'll grab a moon pie or bag of M and M's.
I've quit so many times. Two years ago, I was completely sugar free for 6-8 weeks. I felt great. My clothes fit better. People told me how great I looked. My mood was stable. I felt in control of my life. Why would I want to live any other way? I don't know. I'm an addict. Sugar is a stress reliever. It keeps me from having to feel pain--grief, rejection, guilt. When I'm stuffing my face, I don't feel.
This past summer, I was clean again for two months. So what happened? It's the same thing every time. I make a decision that I will have a sweet treat "just this once." This last time it was my birthday party. I love coconut cakes from Salem Kitchen. Dammit to hell, it was my birthday, and I was having a party, and I was going to have a piece of cake. After all, what kind of person doesn't eat cake at their own birthday party? Some kook on a cockamamie diet? That was well and good. But when the guests went home, I had a second piece. The next day, I didn't have any more. I didn't have any more sugar for the rest of the week. But I was white-knuckling the whole time. The damage had been done, and I knew I wasn't going to be able to stand it much longer.
I still fantasize about enjoying sweets in moderation, like a normal person. I don't think I can. I think I'm one of those people who cannot handle sugar. Neither can I handle alcohol or cigarettes. I've learned to live just fine without those things. I can learn to live without sugar as well.
I know when I start my sugar-free phases, it always seems that there will be nothing to eat. Actually, there's quite a lot, and I enjoy the foods I eat. Lean meats, fresh fruits and vegetables, nuts, cheese, eggs, bacon and cream are all wonderful foods that I enjoy. I can have those foods without overloading on them and without wreaking havoc on my system.
I've read all the books. The two most important are Sugar Blues by William Dufty and Sugar Shock by Connie Bennett. I can remember: when I was clean, I'd hear about these women who claimed to be victims of some external force compelling them to go to Starbucks every day for another Mocha Freeze. I thought, "What's the matter with them? Why don't they just stop? I did. . ." But, I get it. I'm there now. I will beat this thing.
No comments:
Post a Comment