Who Else Might I Be?......SugarFree

(A Special Post for SundayScribblings)

OK Gang - I have to come clean with you. This is hard. This is painful. I would say that it is shameful but there are enough of you out there that share this situation with me that I know I am not alone.

I have an addiction - it's to the white powder. I get it from any dealer that will sell it to me....even this notorious character in the picture. I take it in it's pure form. I take it baked into brownies. If I thought snorting it would be satisfying, I would do that too.

No, I don't think that I would inject it - while I don't have any morbid fear of needles, I just don't have enough affinity for them to indulge my excess in this manner.

When I don't have any of my drug available - I will get in my car at night and go to the nearest pusher so I can get my fix. Baskin Robbins.....Dairy Queen....grocery store....it doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is that I get my jones taken care of.....now.

Even the office has it's methods of distribution - I have actually borrowed the 75 cents from a coworker when I didn't have the quarters to feed the machine so I could get my hands on that Twix bar that is luciously stored behind that glass. I don't think I would go so far as to shatter the window that seperates me from the luscious treat that can take me to the momentary nirvana that only my drug of choice can provide......but I have always been able to put my hands on those quarters so you never know.

Some peope choose crank and crystal meth as their white powder - the tell tale sign for them is that they eventually get gaunt and skinny. My drug works just the opposite.

I try to hide my addiction and the signs - I go to the gym most mornings so that I can work off the aftereffects before anyone can detect my abuse.

Where, oh where, is the local SA meeting - "I am Nutster. I am a Sugaraholic."

What else might I be? - Sugar Free.

It's 10 a.m. on this Saturday morning - I just got back from the gas station. I couldn't leave it at just filling my tank. I had to go inside while the car was fueling. I chose this gas station for a specific reason. Ah.........a coffee machine that really isn't a coffee machine. It dispenses my favorite liquid drug. I mix it with the same care that a crack addict heats the spoon that cradles his lethal concotion. I carefully fill the 20 oz cup 5/8th's full of English Toffee....I then fill to the brim with the Nestle Double Mocha. The heat....the sugar....the liquid....it floats across my lips and frees me of the shakes that I have acquired since the last ingestion of the processed powder.

No, my addiction doesn't come from exotic locales - like the poppy fields of Afghanistan or other third world country. The cane fields of Hawaii is where my drug of choice is grown.

It's 10 a.m. on Saturday morning - in 7 days, it will be 10 a.m. next Saturday morning. Will I be able to say that I have been "clean" for a week as I sit down in front of this keyboard? Sure, my willpower is high right now.....as am I. The Toffee Mocha elixir has it's hold on me. I can feel the power of the toxins coarsing through my veins.

What will happen an hour from now.....this afternoon.....this evening - oh, how I will be looking for a little desert after my evening repast. All I can say is that I shall do my best....

And, failure or not, I will report back to you on my progress - it will be one day at a time. No, I am not going to throw out my ketchup.....unless I find myself sucking on a bottle of Heinz so I can huff the particles of sugar from the processed tomato mixture. If my salad dressing has some of "the cane" in it, so be it. I only vow to make every attempt to stay clear of the dreaded confectionary and superfulous items that feed my habit.

One day at a time.......One day at a time.....One day at a time.......One day at a time.