My Struggle with Caffeine

It started out innocently enough.

I'd occasionally just have it at Evan's house, you know, on the weekends or the occasional weekday. He'd offer it to me, I wouldn't see any harm in taking it with cream and sugar, and I'd drink it. It had this delicious flavor that made me feel so good, so alert and happy, even though the high only lasted thirty minutes or so. But it was okay, because I felt pretty normal the rest of the day. Its not like it was interfering with my life at that point.

A few months went by like that, but as I spent more and more time with Evan, the coffee-mongerer, I started drinking more and more. He kept offering, and I kept accepting. Eventually it got to the point where I was drinking a cup every morning. I even bought my own coffee maker. I knew at this point that it was serious. But it was legal, and I kept reading about how great coffee is for colin cancer, and it was just so delicious.

One day I ran out of coffee. No biggie, I thought. I'll just go without coffee. Little did I anticipate the worlds most intensely frightening headache that slammed me around 1:34 in the afternoon, at which point I was completely blindsided and groped for the nearest coffee machine, chugged down two cups, waited for the headache to subside, and swore off days without coffee for the rest of my life. Here, this, then I KNEW I was an addict. But what could I do? I certainly couldn't quit, couldn't deal with the pain of those caffeine headaches.

And then my tolerance grew, and I started consuming more and more coffee each day, the deliciousness seeping down my throat and reverberating through my body. I had accepted my addiction, learned to love it, love coffee. I promised to only buy fair trade coffee, thus helping out some poor farmer guys in Zimbabwe or Guatemala or wherever. I was doing good deeds. My addiction wasn't hurting anyone. I considered what I'd have to do when I got pregnant, but that was years away, and I knew I could do anything with the motivation of a child inside me. So I just didn't worry about it. I loved my addiction, because I loved coffee.

Then, suddenly, about two years after the initial chronic consumption had started, small pains started growing in my chest. My heart felt constricted, as though a fist was gripping it and squeezing it. Frightened (at the age of 23!) I thought I needed a new heart. (No matter, I'll just get some pixie dust! i thought). Anyway, I went to the doctor, where I found out that I had a major case of acid reflux, and that I'd have to quit drinking and eating acidic and fatty foods for at least a month, and then that I'd have to cut down on them for the rest of my life. I cried. Oh how I cried. All I eat are deliciously fatty foods, and I pour balsamic vinegar over everything! As tears gush down my face, I looked mournfully up at the doctor, and said, "thats it though, right? no fatty foods and nothing super acidic?" and she looked disdainfully at me and said, "right. No alcohol" -- heart stoppage -- "and no coffee. Caffeinated or decaffeinated. That stuff is super acidic." -- I passed out. Right there on the doctors floor. How could I live without the delicious roasted beans of goodness? Without that dark java of love? gods gift to man and my way of supporting farmers in poverty in belize?

Okay I didn't really pass out. But I did get very upset. Trying to quit was even worse. Massive headaches for a week straight, uncontrollable lethargy, hatred at the world, hatred of my coworkers, depression. And then, one day, it went away. But the cravings for coffee did not. It's been six whole weeks. And every morning I still wake up and crave coffee with whole milk and sugar. Once, a couple weeks ago, I decided to say screw it (as I had with the fatty foods and balsamic vinegar -- no heart burn!) and I drank a cup of coffee. Immediately, within thirty minutes of drinking it, I had an incredible sensation of the fist over the heart again. I was so upset. Coffee is the only thing that gives me heartburn. Coffee, the love of my life.

But I wasn't going to quit trying. I had a frappucino, assuming that the massive amounts of milk and cream would offset the acidity of the coffee (and it did!) but I can't drink a frappucino every day. I might as well sell everything I own and move into a cardboard box now. And then I tried drinking a cup of 1/4 coffee and 3/4 whole milk, which also works just fine, except that the cup is cold and disappointingly milky. Its also a tease, since I only get a taste of the cold coffee. And my headaches invariably come back the next day (but they only last a day).

This has been a difficult process for me. I'm still struggling with it. I don't know that I'll ever fully recover. I wish there was some kind of recovering coffee addicts group i could go to, I feel so alone in my post-mortem addiction. Alas, alas. What shall I do?