my coke addiction
I went cold turkey four days ago. No coke at all. None, zip, zilch, zero....even nada!! The withdrawal has been better than I thought, but the headaches are killing me. I wake up in the middle with terrible migraines. Its a feeling similar to waking up after a night of binge drinking. Every ounce of moisture sucked from your body. Your head screaming at you for indulging in youthful tendencies.
The headaches, along with the aches and pains, have subsided. Now its just a matter of habit. Every time I open the refrigerator I reach for a diet coke. Just yesterday I had the cold can in the palm of my hand, the pop top popped and the delightful carbonation cheering me on. It wasn't until I heard the cheering that I realized what I was about to do....fall off the diet coke wagon.
Diet coke and visiting my mother by far the two biggest challenges I've encountered to far. I'm sitting at my mother's kitchen table as I write this, remembering the anxiety that I felt last night driving up here. Wondering what was for dinner, wondering if she would push another plate of pasta (it's always pasta) while telling me that I needed to lose a few pounds. I did fairly well...only one serving...one Italian serving.... but the calories added up....one cup of penne alone is 300 calories. I can't imagine the calorie and fat count on my mother's homemade meat sauce. A gravy that is made from the grease made by pounds of fried pork, meatballs, pepperoni and sausage. It can't be good for you. But dear god it is one of my favorite things in this world.
I only have to make it through on more meal. She is making breakfast now, it looks like sausage and eggs. Of course then there is pancakes and toast and potatoes and coffee and juice and fruit and pastries. No, I'm not exaggerating. We've seen this many times before. It is the staple of our Italian household and the desire to cook and entertain is dialed up. Arthur is upstairs still asleep. My mother loves to cook for him. She loves to cook for the men. I suspect it's what women do. Cook; cook for men, especially those visiting from out of town. This is her one tool to show off her household. I'm not putting her down mind you. I love to do the same. I cook regularly (ok somewhat regularly), but when we have guests I love to pull out all the stops!! I only complain because visits to her house and the subsequent hospitality adds inches to my waistline.
My only hope for successfully making it through the meal is that she downsizes the meal because we have to leave early. The purpose of our visit is to drop off Daisy (she is staying the week my mom and the rest of the gang for the week) and then we are off to Atlantic City for a little R&R. Of course then I have to come back and pick up the dog...I wonder what is for dinner?
The headaches, along with the aches and pains, have subsided. Now its just a matter of habit. Every time I open the refrigerator I reach for a diet coke. Just yesterday I had the cold can in the palm of my hand, the pop top popped and the delightful carbonation cheering me on. It wasn't until I heard the cheering that I realized what I was about to do....fall off the diet coke wagon.
Diet coke and visiting my mother by far the two biggest challenges I've encountered to far. I'm sitting at my mother's kitchen table as I write this, remembering the anxiety that I felt last night driving up here. Wondering what was for dinner, wondering if she would push another plate of pasta (it's always pasta) while telling me that I needed to lose a few pounds. I did fairly well...only one serving...one Italian serving.... but the calories added up....one cup of penne alone is 300 calories. I can't imagine the calorie and fat count on my mother's homemade meat sauce. A gravy that is made from the grease made by pounds of fried pork, meatballs, pepperoni and sausage. It can't be good for you. But dear god it is one of my favorite things in this world.
I only have to make it through on more meal. She is making breakfast now, it looks like sausage and eggs. Of course then there is pancakes and toast and potatoes and coffee and juice and fruit and pastries. No, I'm not exaggerating. We've seen this many times before. It is the staple of our Italian household and the desire to cook and entertain is dialed up. Arthur is upstairs still asleep. My mother loves to cook for him. She loves to cook for the men. I suspect it's what women do. Cook; cook for men, especially those visiting from out of town. This is her one tool to show off her household. I'm not putting her down mind you. I love to do the same. I cook regularly (ok somewhat regularly), but when we have guests I love to pull out all the stops!! I only complain because visits to her house and the subsequent hospitality adds inches to my waistline.
My only hope for successfully making it through the meal is that she downsizes the meal because we have to leave early. The purpose of our visit is to drop off Daisy (she is staying the week my mom and the rest of the gang for the week) and then we are off to Atlantic City for a little R&R. Of course then I have to come back and pick up the dog...I wonder what is for dinner?
I'm forcing myself not to drink Coke for 3 months... One month to go!
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Ok, I have to confess that I fell of the wagon!! I can't say for sure if it was a comfort tool for everything that is going on or that it is just so easy to fall back into old habits. I suppose that one is just as bad as the other and that we are all prone to both. The eternal question is how to break bad habits and build good ones? How to conquer addiction? How to have self control? Blah, I can hardly limit myself to one or two sodas a day.... ummmm....maybe the key is not to limit my coke, but to concentrate on increasing my water.... I'll keep you up to date.
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This is her one tool to show off her household. I'm not putting her down mind you. I love to do the same. I cook regularly (ok somewhat regularly), but when we have guests I love to pull out all the stops!! I only complain because visits to her house and the subsequent hospitality adds inches to my waistline.
zero4file
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