So long, sweets

    I almost relapsed tonight - with chocolate.
    I was whipping up a batch of brownies to bring to the office potluck tomorrow. The brownie batter was in the pan, ready for the oven. The mixing spoon wore an enticing coat of sticky, fudgy batter. Unthinkingly, I ran my index finger over the spoon and put my finger in my mouth. Before the batter made contact with my tongue I pulled away my finger and quickly rinsed it under the faucet.
    Close one.
    As of today I have gone three months and one and a half weeks without ingesting any sugar. Well, no gratuitous sugar. No cookies. No cake. No candy. No (heavy sigh) ice cream. Not so much as a sip of my sober-Deb beverage of choice, an ice cold Pepsi.
   Are you impressed? Please be impressed. I need all the positive reinforcement I can get.
   This sugar-free endeavor began by accident. It began at the grocery store, with a decision to not purchase ice cream. My partner's decision, not mine. I've never independently decided to not purchase ice cream in my life.
    I didn't go sugar free that night. Feeling virtuous about resisting the ice cream, I rewarded myself with a Milky Way Midnight. Three days later I realized that I had gone three whole days without a sugary treat. I decided to go for four. When I made a week I began practicing a turn of phrase known in modern parlance as the humblebrag.
    "So yeah, I haven't eaten any sugar for a week now."
    I rarely got the reaction I hoped for - because no one I know carries confetti in their pockets, ready for throwing when a friend does something momentous, such as forgoing Lucky Charms and Trenary Toast for seven long days.
    Mostly, people asked, "Why?", to which I honestly replied, "I dunno. It was an accident."
   Some people asked, "Do you eat fruit? Do you drink juice? There's sugar in ketchup, you know."
    I explained that I wasn't reviewing condiment labels or eschewing blueberries. I was only avoiding extra sugar. The fun kind. The sweet, sweet, delicious, soothing, comforting, satisfying kind.
    What in the hell was I thinking?
    Here's what I was - and am - thinking. I am an addict. And saying I am addicted to sugary treats is no exaggeration. My thinking about ice cream and Oreos is disturbingly similar to the way I used to think about alcohol. And removing these treats from my life has claimed my attention in a manner disturbingly similar to my long ago decision to abstain from drinking alcohol. Giving up sugar has, in fact, been as difficult - and in some ways been more difficult - than giving up drinking.
    I gave up drinking in large part because I was afraid of what happened to me when I drank. I had lost my ability to choose not to drink, and could never have a drink or two and call it enough. Fear spurred me into a recovery program, without which I could never have managed to get sober, or to remain sober for more than half my life.
    Giving up sugar doesn't feel like giving up alcohol. There's no liberating sense of relief at not having to have that all important substance. There's no recovery program for M&M bingers. There are programs for overeaters, sure, but overeating isn't my problem. My problem is, after three months and one and a half weeks, I'd sell my damn soul for a tub of Betty Crocker chocolate fudge frosting. The other night I dreamed I was eating a custard filled chocolate doughnut. It was as vivid and almost as nerve-wracking as any drinking dream I've ever had. I swear I checked under my fingernails for crumbs.
    The cravings are becoming less frequent, and they may be lessening in intensity, but honestly, I can't tell. They no longer come in goading, ceaseless waves after dinner, when my body wants, needs, demands some form of dessert. Now the cravings poke at me when I'm feeling run down at work in the late afternoons, or times when I feel too small and the world feels too big, like the day Robin Williams died.
    Now and then (meaning almost daily), I hear myself whining a woe-is-me about the lusciously frosted cupcake or a gooey slice of warm blueberry pie I can't have, and I have to remind myself: I can have it. I am choosing not to.
    My mind feels clearer. I have more energy. But that isn't what's keeping my away from the white stuff. What's keeping me clean is the fact that I can say/brag I have not eaten any sugar in three months and a week. And a half.
    Anyone have any confetti?