Dropping soda from my life (five days and counting) has had some strange side effects that I hadn’t foreseen.
I wouldn’t really mind all this — it’s gonna do my teeth a world of good, and eventually I’ll adjust to the new diet (once i figure out what it’s supposed to be) and adapt to the distractability — except for the rubbery wings that I seem to be sprouting from between my shoulderblades, the metallic bristles of hair on my arms and chest, and my new incessant craving of garbage. That part’s got me a little concerned.
I did this, originally and still, to drop the acids from my diet (I’m having recurring dental problems, and I’m finally forcing myself to admit that either soda goes or my front teeth do). CL, being hypoglycemic and thus much more aware of dietary and nutrition issues than I (keep in mind that healthy for me involves eating at least one meal every couple of days. It’s all relative.), pointed out that all the fructose in sodas (etc.) is terrible sugar as well. I would have thought that sugar was sugar was sugar. Go figure.
Keep in mind that I’m not doing this to diet (I’m not in the best shape of my life, but far from overwieght), nor to purge my body of toxins (I’m still a big fan of Milo’s tea and coffee in the morning, both of which are filled to the brim with caffeine and sugar). It’s purely a vanity thing, me and my choppers.
So far, so good, in some ways. Sodas are portable, so I was drinking an average of four a day at work and then another three or so at night (yay, metabolism); now, I’m drinking next to nothing during the day. I’ll have sweet tea at lunch, for a little tiny bit of caffeine, and milk at night (does a body good, damn it!). So, consequently, I’m dehydrating a little bit. But no migraines that I’ve heard about when people cut too far back, too fast, on caffeine. And I’ll probably lose a few pounds, by default.
However, I don’t think I ever knew exactly how much of my energy was coming from the sodas I was drinking. Now that I’ve quit, I’m going to have to start eating regularly. No more skipping meals, much less days of eating (I don’t get hungry, still; I do, however, get mean as my blood sugar gets too low).
My ADD is back, full force. Again, I’m not sure that I knew how bad it was (or at least, I managed to forget since high school). Writing this much on one topic is a major exercise for me; getting through a movie is, so far, impossible. I keep likening it to Charlie getting smart and then very suddenly losing his newfound intelligence (rather than over a prolonged and painful period), but also knowing what it was like to be smart still.
Okay, it’s a terrible metaphor. But literary, so I get points from CL.
The best part of all this? I figure I’ll being really adapting and getting comfortable with all this right around Labor Day, which is the date I’ve chosen to quit smoking. So, on the one hand, I’ll hopefully be turning thirty-five in much better shape. On the other hand, you folks might have to bring me cake and presents in the psyche ward, and I understand they won’t allow colored hats or balloons because they cause too much excitement.
Bummer. At least I still have my crystal meth…