temper tantrums, sugar-free hell, and a fresh look at an old breakup

It’s been a little over a month now since I decided to give up sugar and started working to build a sugar-free life. I know I made the right choice (in a lot of ways, I actually think I made the only choice) but so often the right choice is the hardest choice and you have to go through hell before you come out on the other side.

And so, predictably, I’m in hell right now.

There’s the physical part of it, the part where I’m literally detoxing from sugar and then re-detoxing from sugar every time I either slip up and eat it or accidentally eat it at a restaurant because, by the by, sugar is hidden in fucking EVERYTHING.

(Hi! I have a lot of resentment & anger to work through about this sugar stuff!)

Sigh. Deep breath.

Anyway, as far as the physical aspect of the process goes, I’m finding a lot of comfort in Kathleen DesMaisons book, Potatoes Not Prozac, which provides an absurdly clear breakdown of how a sugar sensitive person’s brain chemistry works and what it means for me to have lower serotonin and beta-endorphin levels than “normal” people. Learning that abstaining from sugar is so much more than just an issue of willpower has been an enormous relief, and I’m finding that with the science behind sugar sensitivity, knowledge isn’t only power for me, it’s a life raft. The book moves from the science itself to a 7-step program to heal sugar addiction (I’m currently on step 2), and if you’re at all interested in this process I 100% recommend Kathleen’s book.

On top of the physical struggle, though, there’s the mental and emotional struggle, and I’m finding this part, with its lack of 7-step programs and scientific data, to be the most hellish of all. I’m working with a sugar-addiction coach every other week, and she’s unbelievably helpful, but right now it still feels like the best I can do is to just avoid drowning in my rough riptide of seemingly impossible questions. “How do I change the way I’ve been eating for almost 27 years?” “How do I live this way without threatening other people and constantly having to explain myself?” “Will a birthday without cake and a holiday season without sugar cookies make me feel depressed and deprived?” And, most difficult of all, “WHY CAN’T MY BODY PROCESS SUGAR LIKE EVERYONE ELSE’S AND SAVE ME ALL THIS GODDAMN PAIN?!”

Like I said, there’s some decidedly unsubtle anger & resentment, not to mention a lot of tantrum throwing and self pity, but I have to trust that it’s just part of the process. Another part of the process is the not-so-occasional breakdown, the kind where I’m hysterical and dramatic and yelling that, “OHMYGOD THIS IS AWFUL AND I’M NEVER GOING TO FEEL BETTER AND MY LIFE SUCKS AND IT’S GOING TO SUCK FOREVER AND EVER AMEN.”

Anyone up for a sugar-free playdate? I’M SO MUCH FUN TO BE AROUND RIGHT NOW. But, again, I have to just keep telling myself that eventually, it’s going to get better. I mean, it has to, right??

Thinking back over my past experiences, I’ve found that the easiest way to describe how I’m feeling about giving up sugar is to compare it to a breakup, one of those curtains-drawn-wailing-sobs-positive-you’re-never-going-to-move-on-ever-again breakups where the world is dark and your every thought reads like a Joni Mitchell song. I went through a breakup like that once, seven years ago, and I’ll be the first to admit that at the time, I never thought I’d be okay again. But, as the cycle goes: things change, time passes, and we heal.

Two weeks ago, in fact, I saw my Painful Breakup Ex for the first time in years, and it was a delightful relief to find that I didn’t feel anything other than happy about it. Happy to catch up, happy to know he’s in a great relationship, just… happy. No lingering pain, no hoping for attention, nothing. Just happy. And man, if you tried to go back and tell my hot mess of a mid-breakup self that that’s how it would turn out, I never would have believed you. Because what I really needed, more than encouragement and assurances from the future, was time.

So I guess what I’m saying here (more to myself than anyone else) is that time really does heal all the things. No matter what you’re going through, if you just keep going, keep paving the path of your life with one good decision after another, things will get better. You’ll get through your breakup, your illness, your job loss, your detox. You’ll get through it. You’re already getting through it, you just can’t see that you’re a quarter of the way there or halfway there or even almost there, simply because you aren’t “there” yet. But you’ll do it, you’ll arrive, and then you’ll look back and want to hug the you you are right now and whisper, “Just keep fighting, honey.” I mean, that’s all we can do, right? Keep fighting, keep plunging ahead through all the painful shit, reminding ourselves over and over again that even if we don’t feel like we’re making progress, we are. Because that’s the thing: progress usually doesn’t feel like progress as it’s happening. True progress isn’t sexy. We can’t see how each little action and each individual day fits together to form the big picture of our recovery, but without those actions and those days, recovery would be impossible. So we keep fighting, knowing that we’ll be in hell for a while – maybe a long while – but that eventually, we’ll get to the powerful place on the other side of hell: freedom.

Posted in: hey look, i have feelings!, life after sugar, personal growth and shit