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Two weekends ago D and I went to a friend’s house for dinner.  My friend is an AMAZING cook, and is one of those people who thinks nothing of whipping up a three-course meal for dinner guests.  It’s effortless to her.

We dined like kings: pumpkin soup for the entrée, the biggest roast pork I’ve ever seen, and her home-made lemon meringue pie.  D and I had discussed our dinner strategy beforehand.  We could have advised my friend of our sugar-free status, but frankly we both thought ‘What the hell.  Let’s just eat what’s put in front of us’.  It was the most delicious mistake.  That lemon meringue pie was divine, and I savoured every mouthful.

My friend and her husband are normally very healthy eaters, so the dinner was a big treat for them as well.  My friend immediately commented on how much weight I’d lost, and asked me how I did it, as she was doing Weight Watchers.  D and I ended up having a great discussion with them about sugar in our foods, and I think we convinced them to give a sugar-free life a go.  Of course, it didn’t stop any of us from eating that pie!

The next day I felt fine.  I got up early and ran for 30 minutes, in a vain attempt to run off the huge dinner.  But the day after that…yuck.  I had a bad headache, and felt very hungry.  The increased hunger lasted for a few days, and I ate more (sugar-free) because of it.  I felt really bad about myself, and watched the scales go up for the first time in weeks.  This led to my second lapse.

Friday was my last day of work.  Even though I feel that leaving is the best decision for me, it was still incredibly hard.  Saying goodbye to my clients felt lousy, like I’d let them down.  I know I will see many of them in my out-of-work life, but the consistency of seeing someone every day means a lot to marginalised people.  They don’t trust easily, and for good reason.

One of my lovely work mates gave me a box of Roses chocolates as a farewell gift (obviously she hadn’t heard about me being sugar-free).  I admit I’d entertained thoughts of having a box of Roses chocolates on my birthday – coming up in July.  But here they were, calling my name.  I greatly prefer other brands of chocolate, but I guess because I used to get a box of Roses chocolates for my birthday when I was a kid, I associate them with special occasions.

D picked me up from work and we headed away for the weekend, box of chocolates in tow.  We got to our destination, and said to him ‘Damn it!  I’ve left my job, and feel I need to celebrate.  I want some chocolates!’  We both ate several.

They were pretty awful.  I really didn’t like them.  They just weren’t as nice as I remembered.  I’m not sure why I kept eating them, I think maybe I was already feeling bad about myself, so one more chocolate wasn’t going to hurt.

We both started feeling rather sick, so the box of chocolates got put in a cupboard.  D had to take a nap the next day, as he was so tired.  I’m pretty sure the culprit was sugar.  For me, it hit two days later.   I was starving all day on Sunday, and it took every ounce of my willpower not to eat the rest of the chocolates.  I felt slow and tired, and D can testify to my grumpiness.

Monday has been better – I’ve had a mild headache, and the hunger has abated somewhat.  I very gingerly stepped on the scales to find I’d only put on a kilo over the last two weeks.  Phew! I went for a run, and really enjoyed it.  I’m up to 5ks, and am focusing on getting speedier.

The result of my falling-off-the-wagon-twice-episode is that I’m actually scared to eat sugar now.  The minute or two of yum is not worth the days of feeling rubbish that follow.  The sheer strength of my physical reaction to it astounds me.  It’s so addictive.  It has increased my resolve to get back on track.  Over the past fourth months I’ve become used to not feeling hungry, not craving chocolate, being in control of my eating, and losing weight.  I like not beating myself up for cracking open a packet of biscuits or a bag of lollies, yet again.  I like the sugar-free Sanjawa.

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