So I ate some cheesecake.
Yep, an unashamed rebellion against my self-imposed sugar ban. And what was i rebelling against? My feelings.
I had a long weekend away for a family members birthday and there was drinking constantly and cake everywhere. I spent the weekend feeling fairly stable, fielding questions about the non drinking and comments on my general abstemiousness. Slowly and slowly it wore me away. I ignored my tools and felt annoyed at myself, them and my alcoholism.
I was packed off with a huge slab of cheesecake that I intended to give to my flatmate when I got home. He loves cake and it seemed the natural thing to do. And yet the knowledge it was there on the drive home was driving me crazy.
When I got home to discover he was out, I paced around deciding what to do, and then the addict voice struck. I ate it.
Now eating sugar in itself isn’t the end of the world, even given my now broken pledge to stop for Lent. What scared me was the place that that action came from. Sometimes my “wolfie” drinking voice felt separate from my brain and that was my experience in that moment. And of course as soon as I had started I wanted more.
In intend to get back on the sugar-free wagon as it was suiting me; when things were going well, I was finding it easier to cut it out 100% than to try and have a constant dialogue with myself about what I wouldn’t eat- removing the choice of sugar, just like 100% abstinence from alcohol, suited me well. And the white stuff does me no favours which is why I wanted to stop in the first place.
And yet I’m back at square 1 because I couldn’t cope with ze feelings. I’m starting to feel like a 2 year old. Am I really that emotionally immature? Or am I being too harsh, forgetting that recovery is a long process and in sobriety I am but an infant?
I don’t know, but as ever, I wanted to ‘fess up on this blog, write it all out of my system and ask for help and advice. All views and guidance welcome.
Love, FFF x