Functionally Addicted

Yet certainly not proud of it. But at least I own up to my addiction. You see, I have a dependency. It is sugar. Not just any sugar, either. I am a complicated addict. Like most people, I love ice cream, but it has to be butter pecan. Cookies are a straight up sore spot. And most of the time, I crave chocolate chip with pecans. Not walnuts or almonds--pecans. My response to most cakes is the same as with the no-good brother with the smooth lines, clear complexion and irresistible smile: I simply cannot say no.




I am, however, a sort of sugar-snob. There are certain things I just do not eat. Fudge? No thanks. Double chocolate (anything)? Pass. Kripsy Kreme donuts? Gag me with a spoon. And generally, I am not a big fan of candy. Guess I share Whitney's "crack is whack" attitude. M & M's with almonds (once almonds hit the scene, peanuts just seemed to taste so cheap), Hershey's Kisses, Snickers (hell yeah, they satisfy) and select breath mints are pretty much it for me.

A friend of mine has been sugar-free for over a month now. I applaud her effort (you go, girl!), but know any attempt to give up sugar is a feat my psychie is sure would kill me. In my teenage years and adulthood, I made several earnest, conscious attempts to kick the habit, but to no avail. It is sad, but I know there are others, who cannot overcome their addictions, either. Moreover, I often think of the character Fran Boyd in the HBO mini-series The Corner. The award winning six-part production chronicles the lives of several people in a drug infested Baltimore neighborhood. There is a poignant scene where Fran (flawlessly played by Khandi Alexander) is being turned away from a rehab center; they just do not have room for her. "Come back next week and there will be a bed for you," they advise. But Fran protests that they simply had to let her in; she could NOT go back. She had made her mind that this was the week she would stop. No, she just could not go back. The final shot of the episode (Fran's Blues) is a wide shot of Fran walking down the street. She is dragging her belongings in a trash bag behind her, returning to the house she lives in with other addicts. She is forced to carry the monkey on her back little while longer...

It does pain me that I cannot seem to function without sugar, so I am not a "happy adddict." This type of dependancy is a dangerous game indeed since my mother is the first generation not to have diabetes, a disease that claimed the lives of my great-grandmother, a great aunt and several cousins. Still, I fully comprehend that sugar is something I should not live with, but just cannot seem to live without. The consolation, I guess, is that I can admit I have a problem. Plus, and most importantly, I work and can support my habit; that hit of hot chocolate made with soy milk and two teaspoons of natural sugar is paid for with money I earned.

I try not to belittle or dog anyone's dependency--drugs, alcohol, sex or even shopping. No matter who we are, there is some sort of hell we endure; duplex, condo, mansion, or studio-sized. For some it is private, for others it is out in the open. All I can say about mine is that my high does not interfere with the "live and let live" motto. The sugar I crave does not cause me to break into anyone's home or hit a person over the head to get it. Noboby gets hurt.