Brioche…I Mean Withdrawal

For the last four days, I’ve limited my sugar consumption to ≤ 24 grams per day, which is the recommended daily allowance for women.  That is significantly less than what I usually consume. I keep telling myself that a low-sugar diet is better for my mental acumen, my physical health and my creative process.   But I’ve been dreaming about French-toast style brioche with extra maple syrup.   

I cannot eat brioche this weekend.  Addicts never adhere to boundaries.  They spiral out of control.  If I eat brioche this weekend, it’ll be cookies next weekend and pie the week after that and pizza the week after that then it’ll become cookies, pie and pizza in one week.

Fuck boundaries!  Fuck health!  Withdrawal sucks!

~ Hours Later ~

Dear God,

Thank you for my health.  Although I would give my left tit for some brioche right now, please know that it’s just the sugar addiction talking.  Thank you for my liver, kidneys and gall bladder, which detoxed all the shit I have consumed throughout my years of hedonism. 

Amen