I kicked the Mountain Dew habit a few months ago, and then, in a time of duress (do you have to be under duress, or can you just experience duress?), I went on a two-week binge of all-caffeine-all-the-time. Marcy offered to send me caffeine-free from Utah in an attempt to save me from myself. (When Marcy recently abandoned her Six Months of No Sweets (except for all those exceptions), I so-thoughtfully reciprocated by offering to get her some sugar-free ice cream).
Now I am back on the wagon, and ready to share all the epiphanies I had. Speaking of epiphanies, has anyone been following the fascinating stuff about Mother Teresa’s faithful uncertainties? What I’ve read/heard so far is extremely intriguing. I don’t think it diminishes her at all to know that she wondered if God exists. That she lived so exemplarily while wondering is even better.
The first thing I realized in my own little self, after I drank four Mountain Dews in one day, the first, unchilled, begun in the parking lot of Wal-Mart, was that I didn’t like how it made me feel. I was strung out enough. And about 36 hours after the giddiness of that first ecstatic drink, it seemed profoundly mundane to open another. It was just another habit. Not special or exciting.
Made me think of affairs. Now, I can’t even imagine having to date again if something were to happen to my husband. I can’t imagine sharing the absurd intimacy and physical and emotional vulnerability of sex with anyone other than the only person I have shared that with in its entirety. But, I wondered if people who have lots of affairs experience this same awful apathy after embarking on each one. If so, how odd that one would continue. And if one did not continue because the fun wears off so quickly, how terrible to have broken vows over a day’s worth of pleasure.
I’ve now been caffeine-free again for about a week, and the headaches were much sharper for a couple days this time of weaning. An appropriate punishment, probably. Basically, and I’m sure anyone with an addictive personality or any sort of addiction will know this already, once you’ve been hooked, it’s much easier to get hooked again, and it’s as if all the good work of being not hooked has been erased. This time, I mean it: no more caffeine.
One forbidden fruit for me that only starts to dull after about a week of pretty steady consumption, and then only to slightly pale, is reading trashy novels. And then I think it only starts to not be exciting because the guilt over ignoring my kids, house, husband, etc, etc, starts to break through the glorious somnolent haze.
If only I could get addicted to some Mother Teresa-type activities.