Cold turkey

My name's Aimee and I've been clean for seven days now.

 

It's been tough, really tough ... the hardest thing I've ever done in my life.

 

I knew I had a problem from a young age, but it took me a long time to face up to my problems. The turning point for me was when I woke up on the kitchen floor, face down, in a bag of Doritos. I couldn't remember what had happened or how I'd got there, but I knew I couldn't let people see me like that. I was ashamed. I was scared. I looked in the mirror and I didn't recognise myself; beneath the crumbs and the orange cheese powder on my face, there was a ghost of who I used to be.

 

My life had just started getting out of control, I'd started falling behind at uni, skiving work, getting in debt, isolating myself from my friends ... I was feeding my habit with change from down the back of the sofa or loans.

 

There have been moments of weakness this week I have to admit. I've been longing to hear the rustle of the foil packet, or the pop of a Pringle pot; to breathe in the flavour of a freshly opened packet; to feel the crunch between my teeth. The first two days were the hardest, it was very emotional, like a part of me was missing. I haven't been sleeping very well and the headaches are the worst. I still dread when the clock strikes twelve, I feel the shakes and the cold sweats coming on. The patches and the gum are really helping though and thanks to the support of my therapist and the group, I'm finally making progress and rediscovering who I used to be.

 

For the past seven years I've been in an incredibly dark tunnel, but now I can see the light: I'm on the way to recovery.

 

My name's Aimee and I'm a crispaholic.

Jokes aside, I've never lasted more than two days when I've given up something for Lent, so hello new-found willpower. Here's to hoping I can apply it to other areas of my life.