Tuesday I passed 30 days abstinent. For the most part, it’s been easier this time (so far). I’ve had a few random, bizarre thoughts like “I’m going to make fudge when I get home.” Sheesh! It’s 85 degrees out. Or “Teddy Grahams won’t really count as a cookie.” My most prevalent thought has been, “I don’t want to be the kind of person who can’t eat chocolate the rest of my life.”
If I say the line, I have a physical reaction – a tenseness that slides up the sides of my neck and under my ears. I can say that I’ll never drink soda ever again. I drink it so rarely now, I have no attachment. If I say I’ll never eat meat again, I feel a little sad, but I don’t feel resistance in the same way as with chocolate.
I just noticed I used the word ‘can’t’ there – not ‘chooses’ or ‘doesn’t’ or ‘won’t.’ ‘Can’t’ feels like it’s imposed from outside of me and a bit o’victim tossed in. ‘Choose’ or ‘won’t’ require ownership and decision power. It takes considerable effort to say the phrase with either of those words and a bazillion secondary feelings come roaring up and start stomping in my stomach. Now if I just ate candy, I could fill that spot.
I want to get up and start cleaning something.