Being away from my regular routines was probably a good idea for my second week off sugar. I didn't plan it that way, but it helped to have friendly support, things to do in the evening, people to talk to, although I didn't really dwell on it. But driving home today, I felt off, uncomfortable. I had a good lunch and wasn't hungry and wasn't even craving sugar in the physical way I have the last 12 days off and on.
What I felt was heartache. I'm used to coming home to my apartment, unpacking, and heading off to the store to stock up on treats so that the shift from lots of company to cats only isn't so stark, so abrupt, so unpleasant. Sometimes I'd stop on the way home. I know where there's a supermarket on nearly any route I take back from the beach or from the interstate coming south. And my route tonight brought me right by St. Cupcakes, my current favorite before I went abstinent on Feb 14.
When I knew that sweets were waiting for me, somehow I knew I could make it through the loneliness of coming home to an apartment where I live alone. I'm not always lonely here, in fact, not often at all, but when I've had a great week away with others, my place seems pretty empty for a day or so. And now I'm having to ride through it without sugar support.
I stayed pretty busy the first few hours home. I'd already stopped to fill the fridge with meal ideas and veggies and fruit. I unloaded the car and loved on the cats. I went through the mail and email. Did some bill paying, changed the sheets. I'd have done all that before, but I'd have had sugar waiting for me, that soothing of my nerves and my loneliness. Tonight instead, I'm writing to you.