The Face of Withdrawal
The pipes are clogged, and I’m not talking about the plumbing in my house. I’ve been eating my way through life for the last month, and now I’m paying the price. Garbage in, garbage out, isn’t that how it’s supposed to work. Instead, my body takes the garbage in, and then sits on it. I feel horrible, and let’s not even talk about the scale.
Two nights ago, after gorging my way through the election returns, I made a decision: I’m going cold turkey. No junk. Nothing processed. Fruits and veggies only.
Yesterday was my first day, and it was hell. By two pm I wanted nothing more than to bury my head in a bowl of butter. Then I wanted to eat a bag of Doritos and wash it down with a quart of chocolate milk. I’m talking about serious withdrawal.
Today is Day Two, and I’m actually fantasizing about garlic bread. Or any bread really. I don’t plan to do this forever—just long enough to get my system clear. Then I will prohibit Craig from stocking the fridge with contraband (I happened upon his cookie stash earlier; he’s a bad, bad man).
Two nights ago, after gorging my way through the election returns, I made a decision: I’m going cold turkey. No junk. Nothing processed. Fruits and veggies only.
Yesterday was my first day, and it was hell. By two pm I wanted nothing more than to bury my head in a bowl of butter. Then I wanted to eat a bag of Doritos and wash it down with a quart of chocolate milk. I’m talking about serious withdrawal.
Today is Day Two, and I’m actually fantasizing about garlic bread. Or any bread really. I don’t plan to do this forever—just long enough to get my system clear. Then I will prohibit Craig from stocking the fridge with contraband (I happened upon his cookie stash earlier; he’s a bad, bad man).
3 comments:
Good luck! I feel 'your pain' girl!
Good luck! Think about how good you will fell when it's over!
You are my hero... I don't think I'd survive!
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