Where there is cake, you will find me salivating like a rabid dog with ADHD. I just cannot resist the pull of cake. Cannot. I have tried, dammit. I have avoided social gatherings. I have declined birthday party invites and event offerings. I have specifically planned my grocery store trips in order to avoid the baked goods section. I have been good. Seriously.
But cake happened.
It was my Mom’s birthday party. I can’t exactly tell my poor mother, “Sorry, I can’t come, because you will surely have cake and I can’t be trusted around that shit.” I’d sound like some kind of crack addict.
The problem with me is that I can’t just have a sensibly-sized piece and be satisfied. Oh no. No, I have to have a piece the size of a dinner plate. Topped with gourmet ice cream. Mmmmm… *fat clap*
After I ate that piece of delicious slice of Fat Person’s Heaven, I felt like I was going to die. I don’t have the diedabetes…yet, but I felt like I was spiraling into a sugar-induced coma. I felt like I was going to puke. I felt like the most disgusting person in the world.
What did I learn from this?
Absolutely fucking nothing, that’s what.
One would think that after a close diabetes call, one would not want to eat a piece of anything resembling baked sugar, but me? Nope, I am thick headed. I am slow on the uptake. I have fucking problems.
The whole next day all I thought about was that delicious piece of cake that almost sent me to the hospital. I even so much as pulled into the grocery store parking lot on the way home from work. I thought, “Just one small piece. A quick fix.”
Then I sat. Just sat in my car and stared into nothing. I sounded like a junkie. I am a junkie. I am a cake junkie. I will never be well. Someday you will see me begging on the streets for change, just enough to buy a single slice in the bakery section. I will have sold off my car, all of my meager possessions, whatever I needed to sell in order to feed my addiction.
Is there a Cupcakes/Cakes Anonymous?