This morning while trying to find something, anything that would hide my fat so I could leave the house and go to the meeting I was supposed to conduct, it became painfully aware that nothing short of a circus tent was going to hide from the public what I was seeing in the mirror – rolls and rolls of ugly fat on my beautiful (ha ha ) body. I had heard the word obese before in reference to me. Well, actually I read the word in the physician notes AFTER, and I do take note that it was AFTER, I had been on 60 mg of prednisone for many weeks. I don’t have that excuse now. It’s my fault, well almost. Part of the blame belongs to the Coca Cola company. I would never have gained so much weight if I didn’t drink so much Coke and I wouldn’t drink so much Coke if it weren’t so damn good.

Well meaning friends have tried to get me to forego the sugar, calories and taste in the regular Coke drink and opt for the no-taste,no calorie, no reason for drinking Diet Coke. I even tried it once, well maybe I tried it twice. I’d rather drink water than drink that fake stuff. I opt for the wonderfully refreshing regular Coke, and along with it the calories, and fat.

Ok, the other part of the blame belongs to the Hershey Chocolate company. I love chocolate, but only the Hershey’s variety. Enough said.

So here I am for the umteenth time in my life, facing the fact that I have to lose weight, and to do that I have to quit or at least severely limit my intake of Coke, Hershey’s and other tasteful food. I’ve done this before and each time I spent days and weeks in hell. But I was not alone. If I had to do without Coke and Hershey’s I was going to be a bitch and everyone within a state or two would live the hell right along with me.

It is now 2:22 in the afternoon. I have had one 12 oz. Coke, no chocolate, and only a tomato and cucumber salad for lunch. I have a headache that would rival one induced by a thousand sledge hammers to the head. My stomach is in total revolt and keeps me running back and forth to the nearest ladies room. I’m fidgety, irritable, and in a mood to perpetrate murder on the first person who tells me to stick with it, they know I can do it, you know you should exercise to speed your weight loss, or any other well meaning phrase. Well meaning my ass. Get out of my way before I use this Coke withdrawal energy and stomp your tiny, well meaning ass.

It’s not just deprivation that is fueling my rage. It is the withdrawal from caffeine. For those of you who don’t know, when someone who is addicted to caffeine tries to give up the habit, headaches come to invade their head. The headaches claim squatters rights and refuse to leave. Nothing. Not medicine. Not ice packs. Not massage. Not sex. Nothing will cure the withdrawal headache. And I should know. This is the third time I have attempted to kick this particular addiction.

I have often feared coming home to find myself walking into an Intervention of sorts. Fortunately I don’t know any people that brave. Now I am subjecting myself to my own intervention. Big difference. I am not being sent on an all expenses paid withdrawal to some resort type place in a beautiful sunny location. I am doomed to spend my withdrawal, here, in my home town, in front of everyone I know. I only hope they and I can survive.

Stay tuned to the saga and Day Two In Hell. Also known as Day Two without Coca Cola, Chocolate, and anything you can put in your mouth that tastes good.