Compilation of some old writing...

I am an addict.
How does one explain the rate in which my brain decides to perpetuate the thoughts of my addiction?
How true does it have to be so you can understand the insanity of the nightly rituals surrounding the innocence of a cookie? The best part is you don’t need to understand. I don’t need to explain. You have to trust. Trust that when I say my mind is on autopilot. I can’t shut it off or make it go silent. My body needs a fix but wouldn’t it be dandy to just put it down, on the ground where my soul is left to fester. With out the sugar coursing through my veins I am left to face the world again. It’s too shocking, I’m blocking I can’t stand all the talking. I numb out. The cookie has taken disguise as a sweet little morsel but within it is lurking a shark with a dorsal fin. It’s chasing me, calling me, making a scene and my mind just balling me out. I am aching, shaking wishing I was baking but I know I need to figure out what it’s all about. Feelings come and go, I know, I’m not slow just to let you know it is not about food. Trust me it is more than you know.
Peace

I need three days give me the time to come off the sugar to help clear my mind.
Time is a gift don’t waste it they say I just need another day, an hour, to gather the power that is with in me to fight. Lip service you say, I cannot guarantee, the promise itself of serenity. How can I promise something that I cannot control, I am powerless you know. I have asked for help but they told me I was not sick, not sick enough as I am not in a ditch. But the ditch in my brain is deeper than any other. Any other person who suffers from this mother fucking mother. so would you please open your ears and your heart to what I am saying… Eating like I DO I AM slowly dying and decaying. Diabetes, stomach cancer, blindness and pain. Never mind the insanity that lives in my brain. So what does one do in a state such as this, let it go hand it over and give in to bliss. Easier said than done I just need three days to overcome the sugar leaving my body.

Without sugar I feel raw, raw like a hand being scraped across cement. My truth has been torn wide open, I am fucking exposed. I cannot hide. My chins feel weighted my cheeks are puffy from crying. I am coming down off the sugar. Like a heroine addict my body is grasping at anything a reason, an excuse anything to grasp on to the sugar I love and hate so dearly. I have detoxed before, I am in for a wild ride.

I have pointed out the elephant in the room. All truths came out. It hurt but it was good. What will be my final motivation? A slow death? Kids with the same affliction as me?  That is what is at stake. My life now as I know it. Gone. Sobering isn’t it. Huh… so that is what that statement really means.  Fuck. 

Oh, so you know my story, awesome. Maybe you should teach me a thing or two? Sorry. I don't have time for your tips and dogma. Instead of "shoulding" on someone you should sit down and listen. Listen to every last word I have to say. I think you can learn a few things from me. Once all is said, I will listen, but you cannot expect me to act. Diets, programs, pills, Lifestyle change, Canada Food Guide, Weight Watchers, Richard Simmons, Cathy Graham's fresh start, Grapefruits, cleanses, Soups, all the diet hype words. I have heard and done it all. Am I lazy? Hell no. Do I have no will power? Hell no. This is an addiction and until you can understand that go away, I don't want to hear, just put down the cookie, right?