A few weeks ago I read an interesting article posted by my friend and neighbor Linda, an interview with Dr. Christiane Northrup on how bad sugar is for women in their 40s. I am surrounded by people who don't eat sugar, so I've been hearing about this for ages. Even I think years ago I read a book (Sugar Blues?) about how bad sugar is for you, but I LOVE sugar, so I've held onto it. Even when we were vegan, I was still a total sugar-head. Still, I gave the interview a read, then another read, and then decided to stop eating sugar. If Dr. Northrup is right -- that eating a lot of sugar causes hormone havoc in women in their 40s, who are experiencing perimenopause; that it's connected to migraines and insomnia, not to mention heart disease, osteoporosis and cancer, and other unpleasant things like hair loss where you want hair, hair growth where you don't -- surely that's worth a try, right? I also liked something I read in the interview, that fat doesn't make you fat: sugar makes you fat. Permission to eat butter? Hmmm.
Keep in mind that ours is a house that generally *always* has cookies in the pantry, if not an open bag of dark chocolate chips. That I do remember one evening finding Joe up on the stepladder, rifling through one of the top kitchen cabinets looking for chocolate (there was none below in the usual places), finally settling on the most unsatisfactory Baker's bittersweet (which nothing can make palatable, believe me). That the other night I got a one-word text from the kid while I was in yoga: "Cookies?" And being the person I am, of course I stopped at the market on my way home and picked some up.
That's so weird for me. It usually doesn't feel like a party for me unless there's chocolate, but here I was eating strawberries and feeling fine, not missing out, feeling good in fact.
Until this morning. Yes, this weekend was the big graduation of the boy. I had a small piece of cake at the post-graduation reception, and a bigger piece of chocolate cake last night after dinner at home. And this morning I feel like utter shit. I'm not kidding: I feel completely hung-over, super-fuzzy, tired, listless. I got plenty of sleep and there is no other reason I can think of for this feeling. The only difference between yesterday and the 13 days before, is the sugar intake.
So I'm climbing back on the wagon, to see what happens next. I could have another piece of cake, see if the sugar picks me up, but honestly I have no interest. I'd rather crawl into bed and sleep this off, give in to how fuzzy I feel. I miss my old friend Sugar, kind of rue losing that life-long relationship, but not enough to go through this again any time soon.