As part of my ’12 months of self control’ project, I decided to give up chocolate for a month. Naturally I picked February to attempt this, what with it being the shortest month, I know, bloody genius. The main reason for doing this was because I am a chocoholic, and I do not use the term lightly. Big Goose (my Mother) bought it to my attention that we quite easily see away 800-1000 calories of chocolate on an average day. This was quite alarming. We have a problem.
I’ve always had a rocky relationship with chocolate based foods. Much like a smoker, I will go to the petrol station, have a word with myself beforehand about not buying any chocolate, “Get the Petrol then GTFO, Lexy you can do this”. Flash forward five minutes and I’m sitting in my car, full to the brim with shame after scoffing two boost bars in a blind episode. See, I told you I had a problem.
I’ve always assumed that chocolate didn’t make me put on weight, growing up I pretty much refused to eat anything that wasn’t chocolate (or burnt Birds Eye Chicken Char-grills and Quavers for some reason). But anyway, I had the appearance of a girl with some sort of serious eating disorder and considering I used to sit in bed and shovel away multi packs of KitKats and Gold bars into my gob after I thought everyone was asleep, my figure was a misrepresentation of the amount of calories I packed away. So That’s how I figured, like an idiot, that chocolate didn’t do anything to my weight, right? Wrong. In the first 10 days I lost a staggering 6lb. I’m not a big girl, I don’t really have that kind of weight to spare. So that was a shock.
The weight soon got replaced, I had a full withdrawal from chocolate, headaches, foot tapping, anger, irritability and the inability to think about anything but the thought of sweet, beautiful chocolate melting in my mouth. The only way to stop thinking about it was by eating pretty much everything and anything else. The carbo-load of the century was in full swing.
The top three worst moments were as follows;
1. Every single damn time I drove past this poster:
2. The time I bought a Mocha by accident one morning at college. I took one sip, then poured it down the sink along with little pieces of my heart.
3. The time the ‘fat bird’ (her words not mine, I’m not being mean, she’s pregnant & she asked me to write that) from work ate Rolos in front of me and I tried not to weep.
All in all I’ve learnt that without chocolate I’m a miserable cow. I need it to get me through long days at work, and evenings spent in bed with my other half (Netflix). The cravings never went away, but I didn’t relent, which is the most amount of will power I’ve ever mustered and for that I am truly proud. Go me! However due to my dramatic initial weight loss I now see that chocolate does indeed contribute to my weight, so maybe I’ll try and cut down? Having said that, on my first day of freedom I went out and purchased this;
I’ll allow you to speculate as to how the ‘cutting down’ goes.