Addiction Recovery Story #23, Snowdrop: Beauty & Strength in a Baby Bulb

I’m popping up again, reporting from the green couch (eight-pound white puff dog, Sug, snoozing by my side now) to write in real time about my efforts to recover from compulsive overeating/sugar addiction. I pledged on January 31, 2121 to record what came up when I put down the food. It is March 15. Miss Sugar Addiction really and truly digs in her sharp designer heels and does not step off easily.

Tiny , mighty — and lovable — Snowdrops. Image source HERE.

But here is what it means to be a sugar addict.

It means that the fig jam and the raisins called to me. It means that when I couldn’t drift peacefully to sleep, I came downstairs and ate, alone. First a couple of slices of ham and light Swiss, then peanut butter, then, in a frenzy, almost all of the fig jam spooned from the jar and many grabs of sticky raisins.

Fifteen hours later, I am glad to see this clearly, and report on it here. I didn’t merely observe myself as with a lens above the kitchen table, dropping raisins on the floor as I stuffed them in my mouth, but I am lucid enough today to face this overeating incident/binge, remember it and crisply record it, so that maybe I can finally wrestle Miss Sugar off my back and stay sane one day at a time.

Magazine maven, craft coffee lover, legal guardian. Passionate about fashion and lipstick — though it may not look that way when I dash to the supermarket.

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