Addicted

Seven weeks ago today, I stopped drinking coffee. For awhile anyway. At least until I don't feel so addicted to it. I tried drinking coffee without any added ingredients, but that didn't work. I tried drinking coffee with whole milk because that’s what my brother does, but that didn’t work either. And I tried simply cutting back. But none of those things worked. They didn’t work because I like the creamer more than the coffee -- not the healthy creamer or the half and half or the fat-free, sugar-free, but the plain old, nasty, white powdered creamer. The white powder that is the unhealthiest of all. The kind with all the sugar and added ingredients that make you crave it even more. And the cheaper the creamer, the better the coffee tasted to me. 

It wasn’t the coffee so much that I loved, even though the strong aroma of Starbucks House blend beans grinding was enough to wake me with enthusiasm each morning, but the taste once the unhealthy creamer was stirred in, heaping teaspoon by heaping teaspoon, really heaping Tablespoon by heaping Tablespoon.  Until the coffee was more white, than coffee.  I used to say jokingly that I liked a little coffee with my creamer.  But it wasn’t a joke. And I didn’t use just any ole’ cup either, but a bowl-size coffee mug, which I drank from, not only in the morning, but all day long. It was comforting. And I was addicted.

I’d hear people talk about someone who couldn’t stop drinking alcohol or smoking cigarettes, and they’d muse aloud why in the world that person didn’t just stop. Well, I could tell them why. Addiction. I knew. I was addicted to my coffee. And addiction is serious. It's not easy. My biological father -- from what I’ve been told -- lived an alcoholic life.  

Anyway, Ian and I are on a health kick because our oldest son told his daddy that if he didn’t lose weight the safari people would charge him double for a seat in one of the smaller aircrafts while we are in Africa. That’s all it took for Ian – a former banker of 30 years – to be more serious about his weight. And one thing led to another and that desire has become, thankfully for both of us, the desire to become healthier. Which we needed to do. Thank you, Lord Jesus, for that miracle as we hadn’t been able to do it on our own. We needed a little help from those who loved us.

After several weeks of the unpleasant symptoms of withdrawal, complete with headaches and exhaustion, I haven’t missed coffee as much as I thought I would, and by substituting green tea the need for a hot drink in a cold school has sufficed. But for weeks – despite my healthier eating habits and multivitamins and gym workouts -- I’ve felt exhausted. Mentally, not physically. When a friend asked me the other day why I hadn’t been writing in my blog for almost a month, I sat down and thought about it. And I realized what had happened. I always wrote in the mornings – 4:30 or 5:00 AM, the earlier the better for me – but for decades, I always had my coffee when I wrote. Always. The two – my writing and my coffee -- were connected beyond what I had realized. Epiphany!

Part of exhaustion is when you stop doing what you love and only do what you have to do.

And that’s what I had done. For I love to write, musing on paper and pondering my thoughts and reflecting on life, for I never know where my writing might take me. So many times it’s a discovery that I only have when I write. Rambling realizations for sure at times, sometimes an epiphany or a Eureka! moment, or sometimes just because it feels good. But I love writing without stress, not editing for someone or correcting a paper or even teaching it, which I also love to do, but simply writing for the sheer delight of it.   

Part of exhaustion is when you stop doing what you love and only do what you have to do.

No more.

So glad a friend asked me -- point blank -- what was going on.

And here we are seven weeks later, healthier and caffeine-free. Yet now, according to our son, we won’t be on those little planes after all!

Lol!