(psst. I'm avoiding you.)

In about 30 days, I'm supposed to quit sugar for good. When I started this plan many moons ago, this seemed feasible and I liked the idea of a period of preparation, of mourning, of coming to terms. But what this period has actually been feels more like a gorging. Without meaning to, lovely husband and I have been a bit out of control. We're eating like crap, we're off budget entirely, we're staying up late, etc. It's not pretty. And so as it gets closer and closer, I'm avoiding talking or thinking about it.

Interestingly, there are just a couple people who know about it and so they ask me about it from time to time. And it's always a good thing--never to question or push on me. Just to wonder about what it all will mean. The idea of cutting sugar out is a bit enormous to imagine. And once upon a time, I was going to use this space to determine exactly what it means to me. With 30 days until the big day, it seems I best get back on the horse.

Now, at the same time (and this isn't to say I'm trying to get out of this, but you be the judge), a recent visit with my therapist led to a fascinating revelation about a new treatment called EMDR. Apparently, this is a kind of talk therapy that involves re-connecting your brain patterns from bad to good. In a nutshell, that is. As I understand it, your brain makes connections from Day One between various events and what your reaction to that event will or should  be. So early on, you connect A to B. And then throughout your life, when you have a situation that reminds you of A, your go-to response will be B. EMDR will allegedly help you re-draw a line so that instead of going automatically to B, you can go to C--a new, alternate response that is healthier and essentially 'unhooks' you from your prior constraints. And, to boot: you do all this by talking and following some rapid hand gestures with your eyes. I guess.

As she told me about it, my first and still primary response is that it sounds too good to be true. My German work ethic says that if I just have to follow someone's hand movements, then it's gotta be bunk. But I talked to at least one person who said her dad did it 25 years ago and it changed his life. So there's that.

I go in to talk to the EMDR lady on January 12. Five short days before I try to undertake this challenge that is the rest of my life. I'll report back. Eventually. Because my German work ethic demands it. Even if I'm trying to avoid you.

Public (private) Enemy #1

Yesterday started a 2-week leave from work. I was supposed to go on a work trip for 8 days but found out that the presence of my kid/husband duo anywhere near the conference was unacceptable to the organizers. Hence, I'm just taking some time off instead. I could go into my righteous rage about the whole thing but why bother...

Especially when yesterday I ate McDonald's Sausage Biscuit & 2 hashbrowns for breakfast after I dropped off my son at school and today I ate an entire bag of donettes. They were disgusting. The biscuit yesterday, well, that was tasty and fatty and salty. Today was just gross. And yet I continued to eat them. I often have a sense that I want to punish myself for something with this kind of behavior. Maybe it's simpler than that and I'm making it complex by imagining this, but it's what I feel like. I had a stomachache and feel yet again: remorse and shame. Alas, such themes for a young life. It's not like I'm not happy with my life. I adore my life. A great job, a husband who is my equal and a son who likes to cuddle and who gives me reasons to marvel at the creation each day. We're getting out of debt, we're creating stability, hell, we just rearranged the living room and I love it. Life is not bad. But sometimes I think I have to keep hold of this particular demon or else...I might just get too happy.

I've often worried that if I start to really pray--like, actually spend some time contemplating my life and seeking God's will for my life in a more active way that is not distracted by so many things, that I just might have to change my life. And God forgive me, I haven't been willing to change yet. I don't even know what it is I think I'd be giving up. Or maybe I do know. Maybe I'd have to give up laziness and self-pity and the shame/remorse spiral and really live. And I don't know if I can convince myself to just do it.

Having a kid helps. It makes me want to do better so he can do even better than we do. I've one-upped my mother in this sense--self-awareness and plumbing the depths of my soul. I understand the patterns and behaviors of my family of origin, I can tap that when in difficult situations and generally get myself out. I have been in therapy for a decade on and off and I've grown and grown in my strength of self and peace. But I still haven't let go of this one demon. This one demon...well, I don't know what it would be to live without him. And until now, I haven't dared explore what it might be without him.

Brain...freeze?

I have a headache. I ate 1/2 a pint of Ben & Jerry's Stephen Colbert ice cream and my head hurts. It's not unusual anymore. It happens whenever I eat sugar in any great amount. The fact that we've had a bag of candy corn in the office kitchen has not been helpful. A handful of those cost me 3 ibuprofen. Full confession: I preceded the stupid ice cream with stupid 3 tacos from Taco Bell. At 9pm at night. Sigh. Impressive to find myself so filled with shame and regret AGAIN. Every time, every time, every time. I suppose this is the nature of addiction of any kind, but I am intelligent, self-aware, in therapy, for love's sake. Doing it again and again...how does one create the discipline within oneself to avoid it day after day after day?

Gauntlet.

Having thrown down this here proverbial gauntlet in a completely private forum that I have so far only mentioned in passing to my husband, I find myself thinking more about all the sugars to combat.

Leaving "sweets" behind is one thing. I can imagine doing that. It'd be kind of sad. Especially because my kid is little and it will feel like I'm taking something away from him by not enjoying little treats with him along the way. But isn't that A CROCK I'm telling myself! Wow, I can contort things just that fast...hence a need for accountability. My kid doesn't need me to eat his popscicle to know I love him.

But food conveys messages. Especially in our family. Our son is still a bit of a picky eater creeping up on 2 years old and so sometimes meal times are a challenge. So when he eats something that one of us has made, we're both over the moon. Not just because he's ingested something besides chicken nuggets and bananas, but because He Likes My Food.

But yes, so sweets, I can fathom parting with sweets. But the rest...oh, you evil temptresses, I know you want me as much as I want you.

I had 3 cocktails on Friday night--more than I've had in ages. And they were delicious. And they were STRONG. It was fun and my inhibition was down and I was with a good friend and...am I giving up that occasional alcoholic splurge? My job is one that doesn't allow for the 'letting of hair down' in too many settings. One could argue (and I still am, with myself) that it was a poor choice to have those 3 delightful cocktails on Friday. The setting was perhaps not as appropriate as others. But goodness, it felt FUN. I drank pink drinks with a middle-age gay man and I haven't done that in YEARS. Doing that...well, it feels like me in a way that much of my life doesn't relate to anymore.

Maybe that's part of this blogging too. To have a forum in which I talk about all the mes I have been so I can figure out which person I'm about to become.

Leaving Sugar Behind...

I will be 35 years old on January 17, 2012. On that day, I will leave sugar behind.

When I was pregnant during 2009, I dabbled in blood sugar issues. I never got the gestational diabetes diagnosis, but toward the end I had to test my blood sugar 4 times a day, not eat sugar, etc. I often dreamt of birthing my baby and simultaneously eating a glazed doughnut.

Now, the good part is that during that last month or two of my pregnancy, all I ate was vegetables and protein. Since I was pursuing natural childbirth, the protein was right on par with the program. Consequently, I lost 20 lbs while I was pregnant. Don't worry--I started out overweight, so I was in a position that it was actually healthy for me to lose weight during pregnancy as opposed to smaller mamas who need to pack some weight on to take care of their little womb-dwellers.

So I came out ahead. I was a size 24 going into pregnancy and came out a size 18. It was awesome. And when my midwife said I'd burn 1000 calories a day breast-feeding, I considered it carte blanche to eat however and whenever I wanted. Sigh. My son will be 2 in a couple weeks and I back to a size 22. Blerg.

And unfortunately, word on the street (or you know, not so much the street, but in Ye Olde Doctor's Office) is that once you have the gestational diabetes, you're pretty at risk for Type 2 Diabetes. Double blerg.

I don't want diabetes. As I hear it, it sucks. And since this whole 'it can be controlled through good diet' thing seems to be the case, I know that I just need to live a diabetic diet for the rest of my life. I need to let go of the foods that have comforted me, embraced me, sickened me, shamed me. I need to let go of the things that cannot possibly do me any good and live. Not only for me, but for my child to learn about it too. This is NOT a diet. This is me. Sugar Free Me. I'm leaving sugar behind in 96 days.

Since I want to document this journey for some perverse reason, and because I want to feel accountable to more than just myself, I have taken to the blog world. I roll my eyes at myself for 'joining up', but hey--perfectly dignified people do this, right?

96 days.