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I know I have been told at twelve-step programs you just pick up paper and pen and start writing: not thinking, then writing. No, just write. That is what I am doing, so most of this could be a jumbled mess. Sorry.

I am dealing with anxiety right now for no valid life problem. I’m pretty sure it has been brought on by a couple cups of coffee, with one being a caramel mocha from a fast food chain—and one big piece of Thanksgiving pie with a heap of whipped cream. Now, I know that both caffeine and sugar really affect me, so why do I do the things I don’t want to do? Why do I bring on my own torture? Doesn’t this world contribute enough torture on its own without my help? Sometimes I feel like a complete idiot. I should write a book called “’An Dots Guide to Idiots.” Really.

So what does anxiety feel like? It feels like a big weight of dread and doom, like something awful is lurking right around the next corner. And where is that corner? That’s the problem; I don't know where that corner is, therefore I can find no peace, no hiding place from this doom and dread, this anxiety that is trying so hard to eat me alive. 

Well, lurk no more! I am so onto you, anxiety. So onto you. What I thought I knew of sugar and caffeine has been revealed once more, and once more I will beg, plead, and promise myself NO MORE!

Please God help me on this one. 

I know God has tried His best to do just that. How? He told me to fast from coffee during my last healing journey class, and I did. I found out I didn’t have hardly a day where I didn’t feel ill or succumb to anxiety.

I know God has tried to show me how severely sugar affects me too. He had me fasting from it one year, and my head was so clear, my mind could think and concentrate. And mood swings? What are those? I had peace.

Gluttony. Look in the dictionary—I'm sure my picture will be there. With no words, no definition—just my picture. How gluttonous. Grow up already!

OK, I feel better now. The end.


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