I don’t think I knew how addicted I was until I quit (and I’m using the word “quit” loosely—you know, the whole “counting chickens” thing).
Last weekend I ran out of Diet Coke, and because I refuse to break the Sabbath to purchase my caffeine juice, I went to bed with a migraine starter. Two hours and one bucket o’vomit later I was sound asleep, on the tail-end of a prayer vowing never to drink again (you know, Diet Coke).
But that wouldn’t be my last fit of withdrawals. Wednesday morning, a whole 4 days sober, I woke up with yet another head-splitting migraine. I realized that if I was THAT addicted that two detox migraines were necessary, it was time to leave the Diet Coke behind. For good. (loosely speaking, of course)
And this morning my body demonstrated just how close I am to falling off the wagon (is it "off" or "on"? I’ve never known…).
I craved me a soda, fully-leaded. But remembering my last migraine I got a Diet Sprite with lime instead. As soon as that carbonation hit my throat the back of my head started to throb. It was as if my capillaries were screaming, “SHAUNA, you FOOL! That’s not what we want. WE WANT THE DARK COLA!” Amazed that my body wasn’t falling for the bait and switch, I stepped away from the Sprite.
So it’s official. I’m currently 6 days sober and counting.