I finally got a good night’s sleep last night. No bad or wacky dreams. Ethel-the-13-yr-old-pug didn’t wake me up at 4am to pee. There was some semblance of sun outside my window when I woke up a little bit before my alarm clock. Yeah. That’s some gooood sleep.
I was reading a fellow blogger’s comment on my last post (also a booze and cigarette quitter), and she said she has gravitated toward much healthier food now that she’s essentially cleaned her palette. Which is so awesome. And in that moment I realized suddenly that I haven’t really done that yet. I’m still hooked on nicorette gum. Like, in a big way actually. At least 15 pieces a day.
The gum messes with my taste buds a lot. Certain foods taste terrible if I’ve just had a piece of gum. Certain drinks too. And the nicotine messes with my hunger signals. And I bet the chemicals mess with my sleep, too. No wonder I can’t really settle into intuitive eating and movement; I’m still actively messing with my body’s signals.
So, while I’m still super proud that I don’t smoke anymore, I’m now actively concerned about my nicorette habit. Which is kind of a bummer because I had given myself all the permission in the world to keep chewing the gum until I was solid in my (badass, rebellious) sober and smoke free life. And I even gave myself permission to chew the gum until I finally truly shed diet mentality and am living life without body hangups and anxiety around food.
But it feels like a blocker. It feels like I’m hanging on to the old shit, and I know for a fact that I’m afraid of the NEW life I’ve started to create. Chewing nicorette gum feels like a last thread tethering me to the old me. A me that I quite liked at times. Gluttonous. Fun. Wild. I don’t want to throw her away. Letting go of the gum is SO symbolic. Which sounds SO dumb, but damnit it’s true.