Addicted

by | Oct 16, 2018 | Steeltown Rambler

When I was a young rascal, runny nosed and dirty from playing out in the back street, I’d run into the kitchen and lunge for the bottom drawer. My gran usually kept it stocked with sweets: sometimes softmints,  sometimes chocolates,  other times fudges. Grabbing a handful of whatever was going, I’d head to the fridge and guzzle a mouthful (yes, from the bottle) of whatever fizzy pop was available. It was often a one litre bottle of Barr’s (of returnable bottle fame) Lemonade or Cola or American Cream Soda.

It amounted to a refuelling stop. A quick hit for high energy kids as out we’d go back out totally unaware of our growing dependence on sugar. The supply, like us, seemed inexhaustible and it marked a happy period in our lives. An innocent time where we didn’t know better and our lovely gran was with us daily, the pop and sweets an indelible link to her.

But of course childhood doesn’t last forever and neither do the people who guide us through it. My gran’s legacy was one of love but also one of dependence. I have found that at various junctures, when life has been tough I have sought comfort in the high sugary food and drink that were so prevalent in our childhood. One drink in particular has become emblematic of my problem, an addiction that has already done lasting damage to my body. That drink is Pepsi.

I don’t know when it became so specific to Pepsi and don’t misunderstand me, I have used other fizzy drinks for the same purpose when it has been unobtainable for whatever reason. But I’d seek it out, like a crutch to help when I felt uneasy, depressed or just plain tired. Without really appreciating it, I’d made adjustments to feed my addiction, finding shops that sold it on my way home then building it into routines. I’d drink it watching films, working on my laptop, with lunch, after a long walk or during it. I’d drink it at lunchtime at school, I’d drink it after sport, after a night out. It was embedded deep within my psyche. And still is.

Do you know how bad it is for you people would say? Yes. Do you know how much sugar is in a can? Yes. Did I want to stop drinking it? Yes. Could I? No. I’ve read that sugar is a more powerful addiction than heroin. Since I’ve not taken any heroin I wouldn’t know. I can say giving up alcohol has taken no effort at all. I am not completely dry, I will have a few drinks now and again (usually tagged on to the end of a walk to help ease the stiffness in the legs) but should someone say you could never drink alcohol again, I’d be a bit miffed nothing more. If someone told me I couldn’t drink Pepsi again, I’d freak out.

Now I know, it’s not doing me any good. I am genuinely horrified by how much of it has gone into my body and the fear of it giving me cancer is probably what is driving me to quit it now. It has ruined my teeth (I am getting a filling tomorrow as it happens) through acid erosion. My insides have often hurt after consuming too much and it has given me headaches when I’ve tried to relax the grip it has on me. It’s sugarless cousin Pepsi Max has been the go to on the many occasions I’ve attempted to ween myself off it though I’ve come to the conclusion that if it’s better it is only marginally so.

I’ve had hypnosis and self imposed droughts through lent (I’ve given up for  six weeks for God!) but I always find my way back to the blue sign, the comforting chich of the bottle opening and the head rush that comes from that first hit. Like many other things, I’ve accepted it will be a lifelong struggle. Until I stop seeing it as a crutch and a reward I will continue to struggle. Until the taste ceases to transport me back to those happy times as the runny nose boy kicking a football about under the watchful eye of his gran, I will continue to struggle.

Moderation has always been tough for me but that is what I’m seeking. I must not be hard on myself if I fall off the wagon because that will only lead to further stumbles. I know my addiction to the black stuff was borne out of love, a desire to give. But these days most parents and grandparents are wise to the dangers of sugar. Indeed the sugar tax acknowledges the scale of the problem and the most effective deterrent may well be an economic one.

Thankfully with  trip to Mount Everest coming up, my intake is likely to go down, I hope this acts as a spur to more sugar free days ahead.

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“The Walker” by Kieron Young
Available now on Amazon.