Death By Chocolate

If chocolate is the color of temptation, color me chocolate. Chocolate ice cream, chocolate krinkle cookies, Godiva chocolate truffles. If my children were chocolate, I'd eat them. Considering all the chocolate I ate during my pregnancies, it's amazing they aren't. Over the holidays I had difficulty saying no to all of the goodies in the office. I did really well at first. People would offer me cookies and I would take 4, tuck them in my lunch box and take them home to my snack deprived family. (they constantly tell me we don't have enough snacks in the house and this is my way to reward them—though for what I'm not sure.) Then one day, a beautiful Christmas Tree cookie asked to be mine, all mine, and I ate one. Then three. It was not a national tragedy, but close. Cookies are one of my trigger foods. Once I start eating them it's all over. But I didn't eat the chocolate. Instead, I began collecting it and tucking it away in my desk drawer. Every time I saw a goodie box, I grabbed a piece. I reasoned that I might *need* it for a rainy day. There is now a veritable gold mine of chocolate in my desk at work.

There is comfort in knowing this treasure trove is near. But why? If it does rain, will the chocolate make the rain stop? I have read that there are chemicals in chocolate that stimulate the serotonin levels in the brain. These are the chemicals that elevate mood. So is that why I'm keeping it? In case my mood gets low? I will admit my boss also has a chocolate addiction so when he asks me for a fix I am able to oblige. It is definitely important to elevate the serotonin in my boss's brain. But I digress.

If chocolate is my salvation, then how did I get so heavy eating it? Could it be that chocolate is another lie? Oh, dear.

Early on in my journey I mentioned to my friend Becky that I could not imagine life without chocolate. She turned me onto dark chocolate. She said, "Just have one piece. It is difficult to eat mass amounts of dark chocolate because it is more bitter than milk chocolate. She was right. I promptly renounced milk chocolate for the rest of my life. Now when I am craving something chocolatey, I treat myself with a piece of the dark stuff.

So when I bought milk chocolate for Christmas stockings I promised I would not eat it and tucked it away in the pantry. I ignored that chocolate for over a month…and then we ran out of cookies(that's another story). Last night my husband found me in bed, cuddled up with my Kindle and *gasp* the bag of Hershey Mint Kisses. He had eaten most of them but there were a few(over 20) left and I lost control. I ate them all. He stood over me like a dictator whose portrait has been vandalized with red paint and I was holding a dripping brush. "Are you going to eat ALL THAT CANDY?!"

Gulp.

I clutched the bag with an iron grip. "Yes and you just try to pry it from my cold, dead, hand."

I am not proud.

I obviously still have a lot to learn about discipline. The first definition that comes up in Merriam Webster's online dictionary is "Punishment." But that's not how I perceive it. I like the fourth definition better: "training that corrects, molds, or perfects the mental faculties or moral character."

Today, I am refocusing on correcting bad behavior. I am repeating a Bible passage I memorized in December, Titus 2:11-15, because it reminds me to train myself to renounce worldly passions and to live a self-controlled and godly life. God sees me under the covers with my chocolate stash. I am not hidden. And to help hold myself accountable, I am sharing here as well.

 

And if anyone is interested in my work chocolate stash, I will release my death grip and donate it to a worthy cause.