Simple-Carbohydrates Anonymous

I felt a strange headache coming on midmorning this past Sunday. Strange in the sense that I didn't think a pair of Advil would clobber it this time, but it was slight; almost like an irritation behind my orbital cavities spreading from the pituitary gland. And if I leaned down, it pulsed. It felt like my frontal lobe just might spontaneously combust.

I knew it wasn't a hangover, and I had already drank my coffee....but my sutures were pounding and I would swear that they were chanting, "De-ple-tion" with each pulse. Then I remembered something - I hadn't eaten sweets in about 48 hours.

I don't have an addictive personality. I'm not an alcoholic, I don't smoke, never have I done any type of drug whatsoever, all the while heeding to I Corinthians 10:12 as well as 2 Corinthians 3:5. Seems like a winning combo....

Hi, I'm Traci. And I'm addicted to refined sugar.

My sweet tooth is powerful, haunting, and unjust. It runs a mean tyranny. It is judgmental and racist, performing vicious holocaust practices on anything boasting the names Hershey, Nestle, or Russell Stover. However, it basks in decadence: flan, creme brulee, baklava, pastalitos. It hails the names of Toblerone, Hagen Daas, Ghirardelli, and Godiva.

It hasn't been fed in the past four days.

It was all an accident, I swear. Never would I purposely neglect my sweet tooth. It all started Saturday when I didn't have time to eat until two o'clock. I had a gyro and that's all I ate that whole day, save a couple bites of churrasco and mushrooms that night. Then came the strange headache. It was then that I realized it probably isn't normal that I spoon frosting out of the can like it was a bowl of ice cream and call it dinner. That most people generally don't eat a meal of cupcakes and then follow it up with pudding for dessert.

SO, that's it. Since then, I haven't eaten any sweets, and it sucks. Try going to the gym with no energy. Try doing downward-facing dog with "De-ple-tion" racking your skull. Try walking into the kitchen at your work just to find that the sugar fairy has left bags of donuts, cookies, pastalitos and croquettas donning a sign that says, "Free." It hurts. It physically hurts.

But summer is on it's way, and my size zero's are manifesting in my drawer. Maybe once I drop some weight, I'll reward myself with a trip to the Ale House....(cough, cough) captain jack's buried treasure (cough)....