Dark Days

I'm on my second day without Diet Coke and I feel...

I mean, I'm better than I was yesterday. Yesterday was apocalyptic. Yesterday was also mine and Stephen's fourth wedding anniversary. I'm just the kind of exemplary wife who decides to make a drastic life change on the day that should be devoted to celebrations of love. But honestly, Stephen is in the middle of finals so the night promised little romance to begin with.

Anyway. Why would I give up something I love? And I do love Diet Coke. I love Diet Coke. I do not, however, love what it is most likely doing to me, my heart, and my bones. This is admittedly my own fault. Moderation is a concept lost on me. And at the risk of sounding dramatic, I think I have an addictive personality. I can't have just one delicious, frothy, cold beverage a day. I have five. And while one can a day may not have dire health consequences, five very well might. Also, I could buy much nicer shoes with the money I'm spending on twelve-packs. Also also, I had taken to calling the drink "Mommy's Go-Go Juice" which places me in the same realm of class as Honey Boo Boo. Unacceptable.

So here we are.

Day 2.

Yesterday I went to bed at 9:30 to sleep off the migraine. I had three carbonated waters to fill the void, and six tylenol to help take the edge off the anvil bouncing around in my skull. If I moved my head too suddenly, I yelped in pain. I resisted the urge to vomit all night. But I think that was the worst of it.

Today my head isn't so much screaming as murmuring. I had eggs for breakfast in the hopes that protein would provide the energy caffeine once did. I'm moving a little slower than normal, but I haven't passed out yet. Honestly, I don't really miss it so far. But it is only day two, and I haven't faced a plate of tacos, or an early morning with a baby, or any other situation that in my previous 15 years would make Diet Coke an absolute necessity. 

We'll see how I fare in the coming weeks. Wish me luck...