Yesterday marked my sixth week without white flour or sweeteners of any sort. I’d act triumphant except I’m still having a hard time without those crutches. When people talk about addictions, they’re usually referring to booze or drugs, maybe gambling or sex. But just because my monkeys are gentle, unavailable men and white sugar doesn’t make them any less lethal—-only less overt. Addictions by definition are corrosive.
I’d known for a while that I had to eliminate sweets and what we used to call “junk food.” The pounds were creeping on, as were wide swings in blood sugar and moods. Like with all addicts, the old doses weren’t doing the trick anymore. I’d begun chewing Bubble Yum in between fixes, and white sugar had changed my palate so drastically that I couldn’t even taste anything else. Case in point: I considered fruit a mockery of the hit I craved. Continue Reading →