I need an intervention.
I have an addiction that is tearing my body to shreds, giving my daughter false impressions of adulthood and massacring our family budget.
I need help and I have heard that knowing that you have a problem is the first step towards getting healthy, getting well again.
My drug of choice? Mountain Dew.
Oh, how I love the energy bursts provided in each and every 20 ounce bottle. The flavor, how it goes down so nicely when it is freezing cold on a hot summer day. The blazingly unnatural color that stimulates my senses and lets me know that relief is on it's way - 20 tablespoons of sugar, several grams of caffeine later, I am ready for more. I drink approximately 6-20 ounce bottles per day.
I have rituals based around my need for the Dew, places I go (sometimes out of my way) because it is cheaper or fresher or colder there. I work my schedule around when and how I will be able to get my next fix. After exiting the gas station or store, I rustle through my bag, grabbing the cold tube of bright green. I sit in my hot car as I open the cap, hear the distinctive release of carbon dioxide, talk my first cold sip and feel it travel down my throat and into my stomach. My eyes close in a moment of bliss before I start my car and head to my next destination.
I have my reasons for not quitting, for needing - nay - requiring the carbonation, the caffeine, the pick me up, the cool me down. It's my crutch, and my object of lust.
I have searched for Dewaholics Anonymous, I have tried to find a treatment center in my area. I have looked at the children of West Virgina and their teeth, in an attempt to scare myself straight. I know that I will not allow Z to drink my Dew, but I need to care as much about my health, my diet, my body.
I know what is in Mountain Dew, I know the chemical makeup, I know the health risks and dangers, but I have never taken it personally. Obviously, it could never happen to Me.
Today, my lovely urinary tract has informed me otherwise.
I'm sorry body.
I'm sorry self.
You deserve so much better than what I have been feeding you.
Thank you for carrying me around everyday on sore feet, with a tired and swirling mind. Thank you so much for being so dependable, so deceptively strong and capable.
I promise, I will try to do better in the future.
You're the only me that I get, and I am sorry that I have screwed around for so long instead of taking care of you.