If you don’t invest something with great importance, doing without it can’t really be said to be deprivation, can it?
This is something I’ve been thinking about a lot over the course of the past year, as I’ve struggled with alcohol. I don’t really like to talk about my struggles, particularly not in written form, but suffice to say that things had gotten rather out of control there. In fact, much of the weight I had gained since early 2001 was attributable to a sustained spike in my alcohol consumption — both directly, as alcohol has calories (obviously), and indirectly, in that I tend to eat a hell of a lot while drinking, I get more depressed while drinking and thus comfort-eat (which only increases the self-loathing), and I don’t always feel up to exercising (which was compounded by injury) while drinking. And we’re talking about a long spiral here of intersecting trauma, depression and substance abuse, dating from early 2001, when I suddenly gained about 20 pounds in a month out of nowhere due to Prozac rebound. Hilarity ensued.
I started casting around several years ago for a way to deal with my drinking, even going through a stint in outpatient rehab and taking meds. None worked; I found myself focusing more on the alcohol than I ever did when I wasn’t trying to quit, and it started to make me a little batshit. Then in the summer of 2006, I was in Barnes & Noble poking through the bargain books, and found this book. I picked it up, mostly because it was cheap and I needed to do something. I opened it. I read it. I rolled my eyes at the sometimes-cheesy writing. But, by damn, I stopped drinking.
At least for a while. Aside from problems with drinking, I have problems with depression and hormone fluctuations. So I was vulnerable to cravings, especially when things weren’t going well or I was having a difficult leadup to my period. And I hadn’t yet dealt with the poor self-worth that I had, so it seemed like it didn’t matter anyway, I wasn’t worth anything anyhow, blahblahblah. And so I would give in, and start drinking again.
But then I’d pull myself together enough to start reading the book again, and relapsing, and reading it again, until the book was dog-eared and stained and the message of the book started seeping into my bones: there is no benefit whatsoever to drinking alcohol, so giving it up is not deprivation.
I won’t say that I’m done for good, because that’s just asking for trouble, but I will say that what’s probably helped me most this time is that I’ve finally gone to a mostly-vegan diet and am paying closer attention to the quality of what I eat. That had been going in fits and starts as well, and once I got into a downward spiral, I’d decide it was just too hard and give up. Which only made me feel worse, because I’d just start eating crap again, which brought my mood low and left me open to giving in to craving for alcohol.
But the dietary change seems to be mostly sticking now, as is the no-alcohol bit. However. I still ate crap over the holidays, mostly in the form of cookies, chocolate, sugar, cheesecake (the head paralegal kept bringing them in, damn her), etc. And the more I ate, the more I felt crappy (and the more I entertained the idea of just one drink, because I could always quit again later).
Those cravings spooked me. I really didn’t want to go down that road again, a road that led to lying in a pool of my own vomit and winding up like my father. So I decided that the crap had to go, and the common denominator in all that crap (and in alcohol) is processed sugar. So the sugar had to go.
I mentioned this to a few people, and they all said the same thing: “Won’t you feel deprived without sugar? Won’t it be impossible to live without chocolate?”
And I started thinking: Only if I believe that sugar or chocolate is something that I can’t live without.
If I feel that sugar or chocolate is necessary, that it’s the only thing that makes life worth living, that it’s special, or a treat, or a reward, or comfort, or something I deserve, then yes, I will feel deprived.
But what if I rethought the role that those two things play in my life? What if I really took a look at whether I really needed, or more importantly, really wanted processed sugar and chocolate? What if the reasons that I was supposed to crave them were socially constructed — because we’re all supposed to have a sweet tooth, and women are supposed to crave chocolate? Because anyone who doesn’t eat sugar or chocolate is some kind of self-denying, purse-lipped, fun-hating, tight-assed freak?
And applying the lessons I learned while trying and re-trying to quit drinking, I knew the answer had to be: These are not things I can’t live without, and living without them does not change who I am.
It’s going well so far. The biggest challenge has just been finding hidden sugars in the foods I buy since they’re frickin’ everywhere, but I’ve been able to find versions of the things I like that don’t have sugar added. And other than a slight headachy feeling that lasted about a day, no physical effects whatsoever.
Maybe someday soon, I’ll work up the courage to loosen my death grip on caffeine as well. But not yet. 
[[[z]]]
Zuzu, thank you for sharing this. Over the past year, my alcohol consumption has increased to the point where it’s started to worry me. I’ve intended to quit many times, but keep falling back. I’ve thought about AA, but I don’t know if I’d fit there — I drink only wine, only at night, and so far it hasn’t had an impact (that I can see, anyway) on my work or family life. But my drinking troubles me and I fear that even if I’m not technically an alcoholic yet, I am certainly headed there.
I ordered the book you recommended — I hope it will help. If it doesn’t, a 12-step group may be next.
Thank you for sharing your struggles, and good luck with maintaining your sobriety and healthy eating habits.
zuzu,
Hugs to ya. Let’s get tea soon. Call.
Thank you all for your concern. I’m actually feeling fairly secure about the alcohol at this point, but haven’t quite gotten the sugar. I’m hoping cutting it out will in fact eliminate any lingering cravings.
Vulture: Good luck. And let me know how it works out.
Jen: Yes. And maybe there won’t be anybody pitching out of his chair in some kind of neurological distress this time.
That’s a great way to orient yourself to the craving. I’m glad it’s working for you. I don’t really have a technique that works for me on food; when I’m working out I’m usually counting points, I can stay focused by budgeting and keeping fitness and appearance stuff in mind — especially weight-sensitive things like waterskiing. But I still only ever “diet.” I still see sweets and fatty food as indulgences. I don’t know if I can change that.
Alcohol is easy for me: having grown up with alcoholics, I decided that I was a nondrinker at 13.
It’s hard to figure out how to live a balanced life in a way that works for you. I do sometimes get a little paranoid because you sound a little like a co-worker of mine who went from active alcoholic to anorexic — she traded one form of excess for another.
It’s not a Big Scary Story — she’s in recovery for both problems, re-married, just had her first baby. But what she learned was that alcohol per se was not the problem (though it’s a big problem). The problem was her tendency to be a control freak and her swings between being completely in control and completely out of control with no middle ground.
So, middle ground is my message here. Going without sugar works for a LOT of people, so it’s worth giving it a try, but if you think you may have trouble with extremes, it’s probably worth some self-monitoring to find that middle ground.
Oh, if I have trouble, I’ll just eat sugar again.
My point is that I’m trying to assess why it’s considered such a big deal to give up sugar. It’s not like there isn’t sugar in foods like fruit. So why is it considered a big honkin’ deal to eliminate processed sugar?
And I think the answer is that we, as a society, have invested a lot of importance in sugar and sugary treats. It’s not like your body needs them. But we’re all culturally conditioned to celebrate with cake, to think of cookies as a big treat, and more importantly, to think of sugary food as something that’s “bad” but at the same time, highly desirable. So you get guilt if you eat them, but if you don’t, then people worry that you’re a control freak or pinched or something.
I dropped sugar (and other sweeteners) from my regular diet about eight months ago, and so far it has only been positive. Once you’re waned from the sweetness there’s a whole new range of previously too bitter tastes that has now become enjoyable.
My point is that I’m trying to assess why it’s considered such a big deal to give up sugar. It’s not like there isn’t sugar in foods like fruit. So why is it considered a big honkin’ deal to eliminate processed sugar?
My thought? It’s because America is the Land of the Food Cranks, and has been since the days of Kellogg and Graham (if not before). The “OMG how can you give up sugar!?!” people are the ones getting on your nerves now, but just wait until you encounter the “Sugar is a DEADLY POISON” squad. No one can just let people eat the way they want. Everything has to be a Social Statement, and either you’re with them or you’re against them. Those of us who just want to eat better without making it the source of conversation end up huddling in the middle.
It’s what makes it annoying to be a meat-eater in this society. On the one side, you have the Vegan Evangelists, who are irritating all on their own. Then, on the other side, you have the Manly Man Meat-Eaters, who seem to think that their dick is going to fall off if a vegetable accidentally crosses their lips.
It’s enough to make you want to become a Breathatarian.
Oh, and as Magnus said, people who have given up refined sugars end up amazed at the delicate sweetness of broccoli and other “bitter” vegetables once their taste buds adjust.
I don’t think I could ever give up sugar entirely. I lasted about three weeks with an increasingly bad headache and nasty outlook on life, which to me means that giving up sugar was going too far for me personally and my specific physiology. But I definitely am not the sugar fiend I used to be — I used to put sugar in my Cafe Mocha from Starbucks. (No, seriously.)
“I used to put sugar in my Cafe Mocha from Starbucks. (No, seriously.)”
I put three or four packs of Equal in a venti mocha. I use the diner’s entire supply of Equal and Splenda if I have a third cup. I make iced coffee with Splenda and Coffeemate. I make hot chocolate with two packs of Carnation and five Equals in a regular-sized cup.
I put three or four packs of Equal in a venti mocha. I use the diner’s entire supply of Equal and Splenda if I have a third cup. I make iced coffee with Splenda and Coffeemate. I make hot chocolate with two packs of Carnation and five Equals in a regular-sized cup.
You sound like my friend’s ex-roommate. She would use an entire scoop of Kool-Aid to make one glass.
Oh, you guys are making my teeth hurt.
“My point is that I’m trying to assess why it’s considered such a big deal to give up sugar.”
My guess would be that it’s because processed sugar is in so much stuff to one degree or another that, if you go too far past switching out Kornsyrup Krunchies for bran flakes and unsweetened tea for Coca-Cola, food can wind up requiring a lot of time and effort that it didn’t before. It’s kind of like the difference between being an ovo-lacto vegetarian and being vegan.
While I’ve never had an issue with substance abuse personally (though lots of side experience with family), I was nodding through your post. I have an allergy to corn that isn’t anaphylatic, but beyond any GI problems I suffer, it majorly affects my mood and behavior. When I finally eliminated almost all hidden corn from my diet (approximately 3-4 years ago), it was the first time in my life that I was depressed or experiencing major mood swings. Now whenever I do get depressed, it takes me a little while to remember to look at anything new in my diet, but usually there is a culprit.
It’s been hard and I’ve had to learn how to cook and bake from scratch, but it’s been worth it. There’s a lot of studies that have recently been done of late that indicate that most of the processed sugars in foods (most corn-derived) do have addictive properties to them. Good luck!
Mnemosyne’s mention of the delicate sweetness of broccoli made me think of parsnips. In the past year or so I discovered the beauty of parsnips. I had pureed parsnips in a restaurant and then started making them at home. They have a slight sweetness and when cooked there’s an aroma of spices — almost like a cinnamon, cardamom, and/or nutmeg smell. I love them pureed, like mashed potatoes, and roasted. My favorite way to eat them is in pureed parsnip soup. This recipe for carrot-parsnip soup with parsnip chips is killer (you can use vegetable broth instead of chicken). Anyway, for a vegan with a sweet tooth, I think parsnips would hit the spot.