Dear Internet: I am addicted to stimulants. There, I said it. I can’t get through my day without the help of coffee, tea, Excedrin, and Red Bull. And, when I say “can’t”, I mean literally CAN’T because if I don’t partake I first get a searing migraine, then fall into a deep, coma-like sleep. Since I would probably end up being terminated if I were found lying in my department with hydrangea for my pillow (they seemed the most cushiony) and tissue paper for my blanket, I am caught up in an ugly cycle.

Here’s how a typical day of chasing the brown dragon (note to self: look into trademarking that phrase) looks:

* Wake up, run to the bathroom (my bladder is the size of a princess’ pea), stumble to the kitchen (pour myself a cup of ambition) and heat a mug of water for tea. I don’t make coffee at home because my maker somehow makes only shit. No, really, I put in ground coffee and water and it perks for a while then produces actual liquid feces. Anyway, while waiting that torturous three minutes for the ding of the microwave, I swallow two Excedrin. They contain more caffeine than two cups of instant coffee and give me a bit of a jumpstart. A. Bit. After two big mugfuls of black tea and two pills, I am ready to drive, now only half-dead, to work. Thank god it’s just a short drive.

* Saints be praised, I work in a place where coffee is ALWAYS available. For the first four hours of my day, I am never without a cup at my workstation. I average six cups per day. Six. But, for some reason, I don’t like coffee in the afternoon (feels more breakfast/eveningy. I am discerning, duh.) so when I take my lunch break I am done with coffee for a while.

* After lunch, I switch to Red Bull. Thankfully, I am still at one Red Bull per day. This helps me head off the horrible dip that can come when two Excedrin, two cups of tea, and a half gallon of coffee start wearing off. If you’ve ever felt that crash, you know it can be devastating to any kind of momentum you might have achieved with the morning rush. Screeching halt. In my life, screeching halt is a no go. Oh, god, I just sounded like an awesome commercial for an energy drink. Please hire me.

* When I get home, I have the usual family evening rituals to get through. Sometime after supper, I have one more cup of coffee (this is when Starbucks comes in very handy) for the road. In this case, the road is my bed. Yeah, I know, who needs caffeine to sleep? Me. If I don’t have it, I get a terrible headache and experience nightmares galore. If this were facebook, I would hit the “don’t like” button. What do you MEAN there’s no such thing? Ridiculous!

I know that some people subscribe to a twelve-step program to help them overcome an addiction, so I decided to explore that avenue.

These are the original Twelve Steps as published by Alcoholics Anonymous:

1. We admitted we were powerless over Alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable.
Okay, so change “Alcohol” (is it weird that it’s capitalized?) to “Caffeine” and I’m okay with this. Except that when I am speeding, I don’t find life unmanageable, but full-on AWESOME. When I am crashing, though, agree.
2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
I’m pretty sure that this is about whatever god you like. That’s cool. I don’t judge. My sanity is found in art. Music, writing, drawing, creating; these are my drugs of choice. Oh, and caffeine. Right.
3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.
Oh, wow, here’s that god thing again. A sort of jesus take the wheel mentality. Okay, cool. Well, I definitely believe in the power of the universe so I guess I can admit my powerlessness and… no, I totally can’t. I am a control freak. Thinking maybe I can refine this thing to, like, four steps. Or one.
4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
Moral inventory? What does that mean, anyway? Like a list of personality flaws? Holy crap, what kind of shame spiral are you trying to put me into? Does anyone actually do this and NOT commit suicide? Alright, well, I am sure as heck not taking a moral inventory. Next.
5. Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.
God help the other human being. Maybe THEY are the the one who commits suicide after hearing my list of wrongs. Seriously, this thing is sounding more and more like a suicide pact.
6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
Ah. I called them personality flaws, Bill Dubs calls them defects of character. Six and seven are same-ish and I’m thinking this guy just didn’t like the sound of Eleven Steps. What, was he getting paid per step?
7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.
Jesus, man, there’s humility and then there’s masochism! Also, I hope that all this bulk around my middle is just an excess of shortcomings. Asking Him now to do something about it. I’ll get back to you.
8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.
Sounds like the show My Name Is Earl, but even more terrible. Is more terrible possible? Do I have to make a list because, really, some people I have wronged have names that are really hard to spell.
9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.
So, don’t re-injure the injured? Okay, then, let’s throw out the list. It was written on a KFC napkin, anyway, and my chihuahua licked off most of the ink when I showed it to her. What? I was asking if I had forgotten anyone!
10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.
From now on, seriously, I will do better. I’ll apologize when I am wrong and almost every time do it without rolling my eyes probably.
11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.
Wait, I’m losing sight of what any of this has to do with substance abuse and kicking it. Also, I hope god has text messaging because it’s the only way I stay in contact with anyone.
12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.
Well, I’m duper down with having a spiritual awakening and only hope that my spirit guide looks like Neil Gaiman and brings some kind of heaven cookies. I’ve heard they’re made with hash. And real creamery butter.

Hmm… maybe I’ll have to find another way to get the overcaffeinated monkey off of my back. For now, so much to do and so little time (work, writing, family, rehearsal for The Hot Sundaes, geometry final, applying to Stansbury) leaves me very little choice. My guess is it will go down something like this…

Don’t worry, these things always have a happy ending.