My One Addiction

I am an addict. It hurts to admit it.

Sugar Candy BowlsMy grandmother was a chemical dependency counselor – an addiction social worker. She went to AA and Al-Anon meetings. My grandfather was a recovering alcoholic. I don’t remember him when he was drinking. He (thankfully) was sober by the time I remember him. He even went back to school and became an addictions counselor himself.

Growing up, I was very aware of my family’s predisposition to addiction. And if any astrological sign is likely to be an addict, it’s mine – Pisces the escapist.

Because of how I was raised, I’m not a smoker. I’ve never done drugs. (Well, almost never. I did have that one special cookie…) I never acquired a taste for alcohol. I can take or leave caffeine. And yet, I’ve still managed to become addicted. To sugar.

I’ve managed to give it up, briefly. During my Whole30, I went a little over a month without it. And at times in the past, I’ve cut it down significantly.

The last couple of months, though, I’ve been binging. Each day, I tell myself I’ll cut back. Or stop. And each day, I have some. Sometimes more than others.

I know how bad it is for me. It’s terrible for my liver. It packs on the pounds. There’s a history of diabetes in my family.

I know how bad I feel when I eat it. It makes me feel gross. I don’t sleep as well. I feel lethargic and tired.

And I still can’t stop myself. I tell myself that as addictions go, it’s not that bad. It could be a lot worse. And it could. That doesn’t make it good.

Telling myself I’m going to quit obviously hasn’t worked for me. So I’m telling you. All of you. I’m probably not going to quit. I AM going to cut back. Tomorrow. 😉

Blessings,

Mary

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