My name is Ellie and I suffer from chocolate blackouts. It’s been 4 hours since my last blackout.
I don’t know what happens. One minute I’m relaxing in front of the telly or have just walked in the front door from work and next thing I know I’m surrounded by empty wrappers and covered in chocolate shavings. Oh no, not again…. A feeling of dread overcomes me; I’m ashamed and quickly seek to hide the evidence. Chocolate blackout has struck again.
I’ve tried everything from going cold turkey to allowing myself to eat as much chocolate as I want in a hope that I’ll become sick of it and its allure will demise. During my summer bikini diet I tried trickle feeding chocolate by allowing myself four squares of dark chocolate a day. As I don’t particularly like dark chocolate this stopped bingeing but was enough of a fix to get me through. But alas, post-holiday, my will power diminished and this method quickly fell to the wayside.
Mr H has taken to hiding his chocolate supply around our home. Unfortunately I have a sixth sense for these things and can sniff chocolate out a mile away. If there’s chocolate at home, I’ll find it. I daringly balance on a high stool combing the top of the kitchen cabinets with no care for my own safely, or crawl around on my hands and knees to search under the sofa or chest of drawers.
These searches usually come up trumps but when they fail chocolate blackouts can go as far as to subconsciously make me pick up my purse (or sometimes raid the penny jar) and take me to our local shop for a fix. If this happens too frequently and starts to get embarrassing I’ll gladly venture along the canal to Sainsbury’s come rain or shine blinded by the promise of a chocolate fix.
I’ve become somewhat of an expert at hiding my evidence. Not so long ago I located a galaxy bar in my other half’s bedside table with a row of chocolaty goodness already eaten. Blinded by chocolate blackout I scoffed the rest, went to the shop to buy a replacement, ate a row and stowed the rest back in the draw as if nothing had happened. But things have started to slip. My current weakness seems to be Maltesers. I thought I’d hidden the evidence well enough but, stupidly, left out the receipt for the purchase. Busted. A cry for help some may say?
At these times I say to Mr H “don’t let me buy it or eat it. I may not like it at the time but I’ll ultimately thank you for it”. This of course is followed by a toddler style tantrum next time I’m drawn to the confectionery aisle at the supermarket and he tries to be stern with me.
I have now started to admit my ‘problem’. When blackout strikes I go to hubby, head held low, and say ashamedly “I had chocolate blackout”. Maybe I should start a CBA (Chocolate Blackouts Anonymous) group and seek out other secret chocolate blackout suffers? Together we may be able to stop this vicious cycle. Or at the very least get some kind of group discount at Thorntons…..