It’s just beginning to dawn on me. People are beginning to talk about how much I drink my favorite beverage, but I can’t help myself. I know it isn’t appropriate to demand that sip of liquid comfort before I’ve even eaten breakfast, yet it calls to me from the refrigerator. I’m continuously drawn to the shiny double doors where I am met with a warped vision of myself in the gleaming stainless steel. Oh, God…is this how I look to everyone? Is this what my addiction is turning me into? In a trance, my eyes flit over my skewed reflection as I begin to cry. I don’t care how inappropriate I’m being because it seems that no one will listen. No one understands my frustration. No one knows how deeply that bottle calls to me or how unable I am to shake the cloying hold of its contents.
I watch as is pours into my cup and my mouth waters with anticipation. I can already feel it on my tongue and long for the cool, sweet taste that will wash through my mouth when I take that first soothing sip. It will make me sleepy, I know that much. I won’t eat dinner because I’ve drank too much…Again. Sometimes, I find a forgotten stash in the living room or under the bed and I can’t help myself, even though I know it won’t taste good. It will be old and sour, but my hand raises the drink to my mouth anyway. I do it knowing that eventually, someone will find me with that sour drink in hand and make a disgusted face. They don’t even try to hide their disgust anymore. They have at times, ripped the bottle from my hand and thrown it in the sink while turning a deaf ear to my pleading cries. While I’m under it’s spell, the bottle makes me do stupid things like draw on my face with markers or bite the dog. My speech is all garbled up and they have no idea what I’m trying to say which frustrates me beyond belief and sends me running for another drink of liquid sustenance.
Today, something clicked and I think I’m finally beginning to realize that the world doesn’t revolve around me. With the help and support of my loving family, I have resolved to toss this monkey off my back in 2011. Yes, that’s right…I’m turning over a new leaf…taking the bull by the horns. Today, I’m bidding a fond adieu to that milky crutch. My new mantra? I love sippy cups…I love sippy cups…I love sippy cups.
p.s. – Seeking a sponsor, preferably female and under the age of three who has also experienced a crippling addiction to dairy products of any kind. Also, you must love squishy baby dolls, puppy dogs and have a high tolerance for screaming tantrums.
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