Smoking

I smoked to look good, to fit in with my new friends. Of course I didn’t like it at first, but I persevered and practiced in the mirror and before long I could inhale without coughing and crying. I was eighteen.
How silly to perfect something that would make me feel so bad a few years later and be so difficult to overcome.
Malboro reds were my first purchase, I didn’t know the difference in strengths but switched to the milder version once I worked it out.
Strangers would ask me for a light or a cigarette. I didn’t like the attention. If I had a few pounds in my pocket I had to decide between cigarettes or food. I lost weight in this time. Smoking took away my appetite and controlled my swinging blood sugar levels.
There was a new bond between myself and fellow students and work colleagues. At university I fitted in with the cool rebellious kids and their roll ups. Even if I didn’t want to smoke weed, at least I wasn’t totally sheltered.
When I started work, a cigarette was an excuse to have a break from the tedium and catch up on the gossip. I made friends in the smoking room and invitations to the pub followed. Drinking vodkas increased my need for the nicotine and soon I was on 20 a day. In those days we could smoke in pubs and clubs and if you couldn't beat them you had to join them.
My motivation to stop was when a good friend of mine had a baby and I didn’t want to kiss the baby with my ciggy breath. This effort lasted 18 months but a holiday and lots of booze weakened my resolve and I was back to puffing away.
Allen Carr helped me to stop the second time, lasting eight months and the third attempt was in 2004, again reading Allen Carr’s book while crying and shaking with the desire for a puff. So far so good apart from some naughty friends getting me drunk maybe once a year and encouraging me take one of their cigs.
I don’t want to go back to that habit. I have probably saved £4000 in this time.
And I don’t smell anymore.

Diary

I find it easier to keep to my plans when I write them down and keep a diary. I am accountable and can look back and see what I have achieved. Sometimes I look back and cringe.
I’ve been keeping a diary since I was eight, and was sad to see recently when I rediscovered it that I complained of being fat in those early pages. How things don’t change!
I’d always eaten lots of sugar growing up, treats from mum, treats from gran, cakes from dad, we celebrated everything with a sugary delight.
Consuming sugar dominated me during a difficult time when I was 17.
I had started my first year at sixth form with confidence and optimism. My gcse grades were good and I was confident that I would breeze through A Levels with the same ease.
The sparkle in my eye was noticed by some malicious girls who made it their mission to extinguish the flame. I’m not just blaming them for bullying me, they were very sorry years later, and the experience taught me to stand up for myself and made me stronger ultimately. But at the time, it was very painful and isolating.
Icing sugar mixed with water or Angel Delight gave me solace. I could eat and feel the sweet love and then sleep later. I experienced highs and lows in my moods and energy levels and found it hard to wake up in the mornings. I slept for much of the day and missed alot of classes. I didn’t do very well at A Level.

Shazzie

Shazzie wrote a blog for seven years and I found it the year she finished. I read all the posts on my blackberry over a few days in bed, feeling low and looking for an answer.
My problem is my sweet tooth and an appetite not driven by hunger but a need to suppress feelings and keep a barrier between myself and life.
Eating until the sugar puts me to sleep stops me from looking for a better job, spending time with my friends, being nice to my family.
Shazzie found that when she ate raw food she was forced to face her problems, embrace new challenges, leave behind relationships that weren’t working. Life became an adventure.
Happy birthday Shazzie!

Feeling far away

Do you ever feel disconnected from everyone around you and events seem to pass you by?

I've felt like this most of my life, emotions others experience normally everyday don't make much sense to me. Laughing at a joke is almost something I have to force but tears come easily enough.

A form of autism perhaps? Or feeling down in general?

Maybe it is down to all the sugar I am compelled to eat every single day. Especially in teas and coffees.

When I worked in an office next to a vending machine I was always feeding my coins in and giving it a thump when my chocolate bar got stuck in the mechanisms.

Thankfully where I work now there is no such temptation, just the trips to the kitchen for a coffee or tea to anaesthetise myself against the relative tedium of my job.

I like my job really, I am busy, I like organising meetings and events and pulling together all the elements to make them flow without a hitch.

But in the larger scheme of things, I'm not making a difference at a practical level, I'm not helping some to improve their life, so maybe this is what I need to feel fulfilled.

The first step in emerging from my fog is to cut down on sugar.