Confessions Of An Addict

Looking back, I still can’t figure out quite how it happened. One day, all was (relatively) normal. And, now….this. I don’t know that things can ever be restored to what they were. How can something change so dramatically and so very, very quickly?

It all seemed so innocent at first. D arrived at the appointed hour for our chosen DVD night, bringing with him several brown grocery bags. (This – I will interject – was not exactly part of the agreed-upon plan. “I’ll bring food…” is what he said. My mind assumed “enough food for one meal.” D’s mind asserted “I’ll purchase the entire inventory of the grocery store and take it over there so that she has some food in her cupboards.” I must learn to anticipate this sort of generosity and get more details in future conversations…but back to “the incident.”) I let him pass without fear, and his trusted hands brought the food-laden bags INTO THE APARTMENT.

Sigh. How naïve I was.

Like treasures from a chest, the tasty offerings began appearing. Strawberries, tangerines, hearts of palm, chocolate bars, crackers, pasta…it all looked scrumptious. And then I saw it. Sitting on the counter - not demonstrating an ounce of shame - was a generous wedge of creamy brie. Even then I had no idea...

It was only when I had TASTED the brie (before I realized that OF COURSE I would have to taste it, that there had never really been any choice) that I began to suspect. As I continued to slice more and more creamy cheese from the wedge, my suspicions grew.

“Nonsense” my mind assured me. “You can stop anytime.”

And I did. After I had stuffed myself to the point of discomfort, I stopped. And then I woke up the next morning, and was dismayed to realize that all I wanted for breakfast was brie.

“Don’t,” I began reasoning with Myself, “Be stupid. You cannot have brie for breakfast. You know what you should have? Something healthy. Have some fruit.”

“Fruit,” Myself shot back, “Is KNOWN to be best when consumed with certain cheeses – like brie. Plus there’s calcium in cheese. You NEED calcium, or your bones will crumble and you will spend the rest of your life wishing that you had EATEN MORE CHEESE.”

I could see that there was going to be no reasonable conversation here, so I forced myself to leave the apartment. As I drove to the office, I considered my current obsession. An awareness began dawning in the back of my head. I reflected upon the meals that had led me into the weekend, and sustained me throughout. Hmmm. When had I developed that hankering for macaroni and cheese? And how had I not noticed that I had been adding cheese to every meal?

More importantly – what was this new dietary habit all about? Why was I – even now – miles from the brie stashed in my refrigerator – all but consumed with thoughts of its oozing goodness? What did I want for lunch? Brie. Or macaroni and cheese. Or macaroni and cheese with a side of brie. What did I want for dinner? The exact same thing all over again. The days stretched before me…an endless battle to restrain myself from the power of cheese.

I do not know how I have come to this, but I bare my soul to you all: I am an addict. I am addicted to cheese. Still, there is some hope for me yet. It appears that my addiction is a bit pretentious, and limits itself to select cheeses. Creamy, ooey-gooey buttery cheeses. Perhaps I can – through perseverance – persuade this addiction that it is above cheese, and that it is instead addicted to lowfat yogurt. I realize that the odds are slim, but I have nothing but time…and a wicked wedge of brie in my refrigerator.

I’ll be right back…