Monday, January 7, 2013

I am enslaved. I am addicted to sugar. For years, I have been hooked on sucking the sweetness from cookies or candy and spitting out the rest, allowing myself to taste what I won't let myself eat. In the process, I am ruining my teeth, ruining my stomach, putting myself at risk for diabetes, and wasting a lot of food. It's shameful, and I am embarrassed to admit it. It's such a low addiction, so socially unacceptable, this binge-eating (or binge-chewing) habit, that I'm afraid to let on to anyone what I do in private. I want to stop. It's really hard to stop. It'd be easier if I could tell someone about it, because then I'd have some external support. It'd be easier if I were a smoker, or if I were addicted to something less…caloric, like diet soda, or plucking my eyebrows. It would be easier because I wouldn't feel the humiliation that accompanies addictions involving food.

It's funny that I should be so hooked on sugar now, when for years, I eschewed it like I would an allergen, strictly avoiding dessert, passing on hot chocolate in the wintertime and only very gingerly spooning ice cream out of a cup during the summer, always regretting every bite. I can hardly go a day without enabling this bad habit now. I don't need the sugar, because I've gone on vacations or had company and been unable to satisfy the cravings for fear of an embarrassing discovery, but as soon as I am tired enough, stressed enough, alone enough—my resolve falls apart. It disintegrates into a finger-ful of cookie crumbs.

I need to stop this habit. I need to break the addiction. I need to do it because I don't want cavities and I don't want stomachaches and I don't want this extra ten pounds and I don't want diabetes and I don't want to hide and feel ashamed all the time. I also need to tell someone, anyone, so that I don't feel so alone. I wish there were a priest who could absolve the sins we commit unto ourselves. I guess I shouldn't need someone to tell me it's okay; I am 26 years old and the only person who can truly forgive me is ME. Still, there's something liberating about confession, so here it is. And now, I'm going to leave this addiction on the side of the road, and try my damnedest not to turn around.

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