Oh the shame of it...

A friend described some of my recent posts as sounding like I was ready to wield an axe. Point taken. I've been a little - or rather a whole lot - moody of late. And I think I've finally identified the source of the spite that had taken control of my keyboard. See, I've been on a health kick for the past few weeks. And part of that health kick involved dropping things like Coke from my diet. And with that went my primary source of not only sugar, but caffeine as well. I'm one of the strange people who drink neither tea or coffee. Coke and chocolate were my vices, and I've cut them almost completely.

And there we have the problem. It was resolved yesterday when the tiredness just got to be too much and I caved in. When the caffeine started coursing through my veins once again, suddenly I was a much happier person. Not more alert, necessarily, but happier. Not quite as likely to send people running away from me in tears. It was only when I had another hit this morning that I became alert enough to put the two together. Because I've fallen off the wagon properly now.

My Coke addiction goes back to the final days of high school, when year 12s were allowed to leave the school grounds at lunchtime, provided we signed out. Queue the race to the local strip of shops, home to such delicacies as Brumbies bakery, an IGA supermarket, an optometrist and a hand bag shop that was a favourite with my grandmother. I always had a packed lunch, so the food option was out, but there was always a way to spend my bus money that didn't involve eating - Coca Cola. Cheap enough that I could still pull my profit making fare evasion on the way home from school (I had a 10 trip bus ticket that lasted me for 4 years...all I had to do was sweeten the deal for the driver by slipping him the princely sum of 50 cents), but cool enough that I did it once a week. And then I went to university.

I was not the most diligent of students, shall we say. I struggled to get through. Part of that struggle was spending my days hanging out with friends in any one of the 60-odd pubs within a kilometre of the architecture building. So I needed to find ways of staying awake at night. And I discovered the wonderful combination of Coke and Mars bars. By the time I was putting together my final folio (2 weeks, 10 hours of sleep, 5 minutes of presentation, one very near accident on the drive home afterwards that made me have to pull over and cry, and three weeks of arguing that I should be allowed to pass after they screwed up my paperwork requesting special consideration) I was on a litre a day habit. I'd kicked the chocolate, but the caffeine had me firmly in it's grasp.

Since then, I've gone cold turkey many times, but it always lures me back. I go for months without having any of it. Then someone will say let's go for a drink, and hand me something harsh, softened with Coke. The backsliding will begin. I'll have a Coke zero a week, a can only. It's OK if it's only a can. But I'll gradually work my way back to the hard stuff - the bottles of full sugar, full caffeine that will end up causing me all sorts of pain if I don't stop it properly, I'm sure.
Right now, I'm teetering on the brink. I know I'm more pleasant to be around when I'm drinking the stuff, but after a few weeks off, it's back to tasting slightly vile in my mouth. I don't want to rot my stomach, my teeth, my brain. I want to be healthy. But I also want to be happy. I don't want withdrawal. So I'm stuck in catch 22. Damned if I do and damned if I don't. There's a nicotine patch out there for people with smoking addictions. There are programs for alcoholics, treatment for food addicts. But where is the help for the caffeine buzzed among us? It isn't even accepted as a serious problem. When you say you've got a Coke habit, the dark liquid gold isn't usually the first thing that springs to mind as an addictive substance, even to those who share the dirty, shameful secret.

So, in the interests of promoting honesty and healing - how many steps are there, and how many of them are appropriate to someone who is far from loving organised religion? - onto my second confession in as many days.

Hi, my name is Killi, and I'm addicted to Coca Cola. It's been 3 hours since my last drink.