I was listening to a subliminal CD on extreme motivation, and just kind of laying there in bed because I wasnt feeling well. This is a time I take for myself to meditate or fall asleep, whatever my body wants to do. Otherwise I would just vegetate in front of the TV, mindlessly passing the day, waiting for inspiration or energy to hit me. Sometimes the Cd will stimulate me to such a degree that I can not lay there. I must get up and do something. Other times the tone takes on a more meditative, soul searching mode, that is if I dont fall asleep. Today I started wandering. Strange seemingly unrelated subjects started popping into my mind, with no rhyme or reason. I remember wanting to be told where Natalie Holloway was. I got pink round plastic snake thing. Hmm. OK. Then suddenly I wanted to know why I was addicted to sugar. I started hearing, seeing the old baseball star Babe Ruth. What on earth could that mean and how is that the answer to my question? Shocked, I realized that I had a very personal connection to Babe Ruth, or should I say Baby Ruth, the candy bar.
When I was anywhere from a toddler to 5 years old. My dad would take care of me when my mom worked. He dragged me along on his strange wanderings and faux work errands. We would be away from the house from morning to late at night. I longed to be home and have a normal childhood, play with my friends, my toys, in other words, do what I wanted to do. But I was forced to sit there, usually in the car for a hellish length of time on end. Those were the first times I remembered having extreme anxiety. I still have nightmares to this day about those times at least twice a month, leaving me very depressed upon wakening.
The only bright spot in my day was a Baby Ruth bar that dad would buy both of us to eat for the whole day. He would divide it anywhere between half and a quarter, depending on how much I could argue for a bigger portion. I remember having tantrums in order to get more candy. Sometimes I would win and thats when I felt my daddy loved me. God only knows how that affected my development both bodily and mentally. The only time I got a delicious healthy meal was when he would take me over to his mothers, my grandma.
So, there is the connection to my addiction to sugar. Yes, it is a physical craving, but more importantly, it is a soul craving. It equals love and nourishment to me. Sugar is what makes the anxiety go away, and the more of it I can get, the more I "win". But as everyone knows, addiction has a very bad side. You feel worse after the so called "wonderful feeling". And you feel more hungry, more anxious, more self hating, and more angry.
I can only hope that making this connection in my mind and by writing about it can help me manage this once and forever.
