A Dash of Sweetness

You ask me why I'm mad? I'll tell you why I'm mad! Come sit by your dear, old RibeyeMoshPit, and I'll tell you a story about the stupidest thing on Earth.

Did you know that iodized salt uses dextrose (corn sugar) to stabilize the iodine chemical added to it? Did you? Did you know this, my angel faced reader? Did you know that your salt contains sugar?

Far too late in life, I discovered my chronic depression, muscular deterioration, and hormonal imbalances were all heavily triggered by diet. Imagine! My comfort eating was actually stressing me out more. But it's okay! I've gotten over that reality check, and I've used it to lighten up, literally and figuratively.

So, my dearest reader, fast forward to present day. I'm feeling great, happier than ever, kicking ass, and taking names. BUT... there's a small problem. Every once in awhile, I'll get this small sensation in the left hand side of my brain. It feels like I've forgotten something. I'll sit back in my chair, search that part of my mind, and try to discover what is wrong.

Then BAM! BOOM! SPLAT! A torrent of negativity, self-critcism, and violent imagery comes pouring out of my skull, out of my eyes, down my nose, through my ears, and sending me hacking and coughing to the floor. Within seconds, my mind, body, and spirit are in a war for dominance, and the only thing I can do to keep my sanity is to scream for help... but it only comes to my throat in a choking whisper, "What's happening..."

And then, just as quickly, it will be gone. I'll curl up there on the ground, feeling like I had been assaulted and grabbed by some invisible enemy. Shame and guilt settle into the quiet places of my mind as I quietly cry in both relief and deep sadness.

For so long, I've lived in fear of when this sensation will assault me again.

For so long, it was all my fault, and this was who I truly was.

For so long, I thought my case was the one that could never be solved.

And then I happened to look at an ingredients label. I don't even remember why I did it. I just remember staring in disbelief. I remember frantically googling questions, forsaking my work and conversations with coworkers. I searched the shelves at the grocery store, feeling my disbelief grow into relief... and then fury.

Pure fury.

Fury at my ignorance.

Fury at big business.

Fury for all the days I spent in fear and sadness.

Fury that I hadn't discovered it sooner.

But deep with this fury where the inferno was the hottest, there was a cry of victory that pushes me forward...

It's not my fault.

Somebody, somewhere, decided it would be perfectly harmless to add a dash of sugar to something that was never meant to be sweet. Somebody thought they could get away with adding just a little extra and not think to mention it to anyone who could get hurt. Because of them, I've lived for years under the thumb of fear, but I got smarter, and now I can get better.

So, yeah, my esteemed reader, it does seem ridiculous to be so emotional about a purely miniscule amount of dextrose. But my perspective is from a lifetime of sadness and fear fueled by the one thing people crave like a drug. When God made me, He stopped at spice and everything nice.