A long time ago, I stopped eating sugar for a whole month. This was because I was told I was hypoglycemic and needed to regulate my blood sugar. At first it was pure torment, but after the first hellish week or two I started to feel good. At the end of the month, I felt better than I ever had in my life. I had tons of energy, I woke up refreshed, I had amazing mental clarity. I felt so good that one day, I went to a bakery with my girlfriend and recklessly ate a delicious confection. The sugar hit suddenly, as if I’d shot up into a vein. (Not that I've ever shot up into a vein. What do I know?) Colors were brighter, all my senses were heightened. And it was all downhill from there. I haven't been able to fully cut out sugar again.
But I must. I’ve been eating sugar like there’s no tomorrow. In the office where I work, it’s everywhere! Halloween candy, cookies, brownies, birthday cakes with buttercream icing that (prepare yourself: full disclosure) becomes even more decadent after 15 seconds in the microwave. I’ve been eating so much sugar that I feel ill. Yet I can’t stop. I look at that KitKat and know that I will feel yucky after I eat it, but I eat it anyway. This must be how it feels to be addicted to alcohol or crack or cigarettes. That rush of simultaneous pleasure and disgust.
I remember when it was all pleasure: inhaling the intoxicating smell of a pillowcase bulging with Halloween plunder. Dumping it on my bedroom floor and organizing it by category, preparing for complicated barter negotiations with my sister and brothers: Smarties, DumDums, Tootsie Pops, SweetTarts, Bit-O-Honey, Necco wafers, M&Ms, Jolly Ranchers, Laffy Taffy, Lemonheads, Baby Ruth, Butterfinger, 3 Musketeers, Mike & Ike, Red Hots, Dubble Bubble, Pixy Stix, waxy vampire teeth, candy necklaces, candy corn. Oh, candy corn!
It’s wack to contemplate going cold-turkey on sugar a week before Halloween.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
My thing used to be Coke and cigarettes. If I got on a tear, working, it amplified. Ex used to say "I know you're writing...your house is filled with empty Coke cans and butts." Lovely.
I still let myself have both...moderately. Otherwise, well, they both make me feel like shit. And I've found that if I make them a reward, they're all the sweeter. Smoking three cigarettes in a week makes them an almost erotic experience. And a regular Coke after having Orangina?Well, it's a serious drug.
As for Halloween, man, those mini Snickers just RULE.
By the way, I make a Red Devil/Red Velvet cake that would make you weep. From scratch. There's even buttermilk in it.
Post a Comment