Battlegrounds, Boundaries, and the Power of the Brew

For my brain, the caffeine addiction and withdrawal are very, very real. I can almost hear the gears in my mind churning the moment I sip that liquid brown gold. Conversely, my brain goes to sleep, protesting with a pounding migraine, if I don't grab a cuppa first thing in the morning—either with breakfast or right before it. 

I simply cannot function without my precious cup of coffee. It wakes me up and gives me the energy to deal with child and work tantrums—one often worse than the other. Someone is always crying somewhere, either on the work front or the personal front, and moods must be pacified immediately with calming words or hugs, depending on the audience. Without coffee, managing both of these audiences is tricky at best, to put it most diplomatically. 

I recently noticed just how acute my caffeine withdrawal is thanks to a severe case of food poisoning or GERD (the jury is still out on that one) that I inflicted upon myself. Because of it, I had to stop my morning cuppa temporarily. What a nightmare those days were! By nightfall, I just took deep, calming breaths and gave myself a pat on the back for having the courage to stand in the battleground and survive—all without my precious armour, my morning coffee. 

A dear musician friend, who passed away around the same time my husband did, wrote and sang an entire song called "Morning Coffee." I remember him owning all kinds of machines and powders. I totally get that now. I am closely following in his footsteps—minus the fancy equipment, though. I stick to my Levista instant coffee every morning, and with it, I prepare myself for battle. 

Caffeine-addicted survivor, out!