Hi. My name is Geri Stewart and I’m a sugaraholic. I have turned myself into an addict. High fructose corn syrup, honey, fructose, raw sugar, molasses dextrose, glucose, fruit juice concentrate, malt sugar, lactose, maltose, sucrose, white refined sugar, brown sugar…you name it, I’m addicted. The defining moment came the other day when I was standing in front of the pantry desperate for something sweet. I looked inside and, thankfully, I’m not stocking anything sweet in there – short of ingesting an actual tablespoon of brown sugar. I didn’t want cookies or cake (not that I had any of those). I didn’t even want chocolate – which I had. I didn’t want ice cream – which I had. I had butter tarts in the freezer but that’s not what I was looking for either. I wanted hard core sugar. Bring on the jelly beans, the jube jubes, the hot tomales. I remembered that I had seen my son with a bag of hot tamales when he was unpacking from his vacation and I thought, maybe I should go up there and snafu a few hot tomales. Then I asked myself, has it come to this? That I am going to go sneak up to my son’s room and poke around through his stuff and eat his hot tamales? (Well I would be saving him from them in reality – mothers make those kinds of sacrifices for their kids). Think of the movie Chocolat, when the vicar is found passed out in a chocolate coma in the chocolate shop window. I’d have been discovered passed out in a drunken hot tamales stupor with a burnt tongue and red water running down my face. They say that addicts steal money from their family to buy drugs, unless – of course, they can steal the actual drugs. A sad state of affairs. I did not go up and look for the hot tomales, btw. That would have been the last frontier.
I always used to have a savory tooth. If you offered me a bag of chips or a chocolate bar, I would always go for the bag of chips. Since the – ahem – change of life, I started going for the chocolate bar. And don’t even get me started on the sugary Starbucks drinks I love so much. The other night, the same day I was looking for the hot tomales, I went back for a refill on my Venti Peach Green Tea Lemonade. Very satisfying. I have never done that. The guilt. I felt as if I had lost control and handed my health over to my pathology.
But then yesterday, during my lunch hour, I am reading one of the many health magazines I have purchased recently. I have been going through them with a fine tooth comb (aka a red pen and a yellow highlighter) and learning about everything I am doing wrong. I’ve read many articles on gut health and have red lined almost every word as I read about inflammation. My body is a raging inferno of inflammation. I know it. Then I read another article in Dr. Oz’s magazine about cutting sugar out of your life and how to do it and why you should do it. Its not like I hadn’t already read Dr. Amen’s brain health book on what sugar does to your brain and how it speeds up aging. Let me tell you, I am seeing the ravages of this addiction. But when I read Dr. Oz’s article yesterday something in me snapped. Thank you Dr. OZ. I was quitting sugar. I’ve been taking all the supplements that my naturopath has recommended. And she has strongly advised that I follow my food sensitivities results. No gluten, no dairy, no celery (yes celery), no corn (obvious but not easy, since I considered popcorn one of the food groups), no brewers yeast (no alcohol – not hard for me) and no bakers yeast (no breads or any kinds – or cinnamon buns). Kill me now. But I had a revelation yesterday – it’s the sugar that is messing with me and weighing me down (literally). Its all about the sugar.
One of the first things to go….my daily, morning sugar drink from Starbucks. I can’t even. How am I going to do this? One day at a time. I did NOT stop at Starbucks this morning. I filled up my fancy water bottle (with water) and just drove straight to work. However, I reasoned, if I’m not going to have sugar then I better have some healthy fats to keep me going. Killing two birds with one stone. Nix the sugar, add the healthy fats.
This is going to be a journey but I know I can do it. I’m in charge of me. Nobody was forcing all that sugar down my throat. It was me, willingly and unlovingly and obsessively, ingesting whatever I wanted even if I knew it was going to kill me. Who does that? Well, sadly, millions. But you’re not the boss of me. I am the boss of me. And I am going to start treating myself better. No one else is gonna do it for me. No one can. Its all up to me.
The Red Plaid Apron 