My name’s Madi and I’m a sugarholic.
Like most people on the planet (saying that makes me feel better), I overindulged over Christmas. Prior to December, I’d actually managed to get into a nice routine of three meals a day, and kept snacking to a minimum (which is a momentous achievement for myself), but the festivities reeled me back in (much like a crack addict) to an earlier version of myself, who snacked all day on chocolatey goodness and slept past midday.
So again, like most people, I’ve entered the new year carrying some extra timber and resenting my insatiable appetite for all things shite. Why is it that everything that tastes so amazing has to be so bad for you? Why can’t sitting around on the sofa watching The Crystal Maze be sufficient exercise?
Well here I am in 2015, wishing I could rewind to last year when I looked less like Jabba the Hutt. Once again like most people, I’ve resolved to diet the year away to look sensual and fabulous by the time the summer comes around, so I can hit the beach without feeling like a grade A whale.
I have struggled with my bastard weight for most of my life, after a discovery of sweets and bacon in my early teens led me to pile on the pounds. I actually got into the gym last year and sweated away a few blubbery tires, but it seems that I’ve backtracked a little over the festive period, and it really does make me feel like shit!
The thing I hate about people with these amazing figures who look like superstars (apart from the fact that they look better than me) is that they claim that it’s easy, and that they’re truly happy choosing kale over cookies and so on. I think that it’s a load of bollocks; we’re all reared on a sugar addiction and no matter how mint it must surely feel to be a lovely size eight honey, it’s no picnic getting there.
So anyway, here I am on my diet, behaving like a rabid dog. Like, I literally have gone about three days without snacking on something sweet, and I’m in hell. I don’t remember dieting being this dreadful before, why is it that when we relapse (I’m actually talking like my sugar addiction is a heroin problem) it’s so much harder to commit to the routine?
To make matters worse, I’ve also given up boozing for January, in recognition of my overindulgence over crimbo. For those of you who don’t know, alcohol is packed full of sugary goodness, and so the lack of a daily wine or two is definitely adding to my withdrawal symptoms. I
may defo sound melodramatic, but sugar addiction is a very real thing and withdrawal symptoms genuinely happen.
Does any lovely soul want to commit to being my personal discipliner? ‘Cause as much as I really don’t want to eat a load of shite, my brain is literally telling me that that’s what I need. I finished my dinner last night and the craving for sweet stuff got so bad that after attempts to snack on celery and pistachio nuts failed, I had to take myself to bed before I marauded the local shop for a Cadbury’s Wispa.
Today I took matters into my own hands and have ordered a 14-day Teatox from BooTea, in the hope that it’ll help flush my system and raise my self-confidence slightly. I’m also resolving to start using my gym membership, to get them buns, hun. Watch this space, babies, I’m gonna be looking like Nicki Minaj in no time (BooTea gives you booty, right?).