What Happens When a Sugar Addict Renounces Sugar For a Week?

Answer: An INFERNO of chaos.

​When my editor suggested taking this on, I nearly crawled under the conference room table and died—it'd be easier than looking at all the cupcakes, over-saccharine coffees and family-size Oreo rolls I couldn't eat and have it kill me softly. If my body were analysed at this particular moment in time, it'd be 68% sugar, and it's exactly this junkie-esque tilt of mine that convinced my team I was the ideal candidate for this heartless experiment. And so, starting tomorrow, I go sans sugar for what I'm sure will be the longest week of my life. Off I go to stuff my face with break-up hot fudge before midnight strikes.


Midnight. Boyfriend has decided to give up sugar with me, and we purge the house of my appallingly large stashes of chocolate biscuits, caramel syrup and just-in-case frozen donuts. Goodbye, friends.

Morning. Wake up with death in the pit of my stomach. The idea of morning tea without my usual three-spoon helper is making my heart ache. Regardless, I guzzle it down as my boyfriend grumbles through his tasteless espresso in tandem with my morning dressing and, I head to work.

Afternoon. Watching people drinking Cokes and eat bread around me is a true test. Get cup of vile, caffeinated swill (coffee stripped of sugar) as it is post-lunch ritual to have one, and refrain from usual, creamy mango yoghurt lunch accompaniment. Friend taunts me by putting packet of sugar on my desk and grinning.

Evening: A six-o-clock tea-time being ingrained in my daily functioning, my bloodstream begins to crave a hit as I watch people sip ready-brewed sweet tea and eat bread pakoras around me. I pacify myself with an unsweetened mausambi juice and wish them all ill, instantly not meaning it, but continuing to hate them as well.

Night: Dinner sans bread is a challenge. I use this opportunity to find comfort in the only other solace I have (food-wise)—meat. I will now pretend this cup of jasmine tea is actually a butterscotch sundae.


Morning: Proud of self for making it through the first day without any sugar-deprivation-related violence. This morning, my boyfriend has stocked the house with fruit—a food group I tend to avoid because I'd always rather have a Bourbon biscuit. A morning banana supplements my evil-flavoured coffee. Things are not so bad.

Afternoon: Banana two of day as part of lunch. I could do this! I don't think I even need sugar! Oh goddamn it. Happy birthday, colleague. No I can't (inner sob) have a piece of cake.

Evening: Need samosa or heavily fried food now! One more glass of organic juice and I will be sprouting pulverised carrots from my nose!

Dinner: Ate a spicy Chinese gravy after checking the packet for added sugars. There were none. Oh, meat, my only solace in this difficult time!


Morning: Sputter through gross coffee and pallid-tasting banana. Reach work and blessed colleague hands me enormous jar of organic 'non-processed' honey. Check quickly if diet plan allows it—and huzzah!

Afternoon: Celebrate with honey-filled coffee. It is quite detestable. Will try it with green tea in the evening and hope for better outcome.

Evening: Doing better with honey. Mild feeling of being organic/healthy seeps through being. Perhaps I will live longer and make this a lifestyle choice. See favourite coconut biscuits at tea time. That would be a nay on the lifestyle choice.

Dinner: Tuck into giant chicken steak for dinner. Would've preferred lamb, or a BALL OF CANDY. But whatevs.


Morning: Feeling good about self, Eat some plain yoghurt with honey and almonds. Am zen health goddess.

Afternoon: Yum. Rajma. Again. WHAT I WOULD DO FOR A SANDWICH UGH!

Evening: The chai break has gotten less taxing over time. I feel a certain sense of pride as I watch people demolish towers of glucose biscuits mushy-fied by tea and feel nothing. Am either doing very well on this no-sugar week or am dead inside.

Dinner: Am ODing on fruit since this no-sugar thing went down. My mother will be so pleased. Imma banging out some apples allday/erryday.


Morning: Woke up this morning totally lacklustre. My very innards are rebelling. I don't want a banana. I just want teaspoons of sugar shot straight into my brain and to weep like a baby!

Afternoon: Hey! Watching my colleagues eat sandwiches isn't nearly as painful as day before yesterday! This must be what they call growth.

Evening: The films are all a lie! Chamomile tea solves NOTHING! It only gives you that feeling of 'oh-I'm-suffering-so-I-guess-this-is-good-for-me'

Dinner: Ate a bloody salad. Came home and begged boyfriend in disgrace to be allowed to eat one cheat Oreo. He smiled and reminded me that we have none. Heard noise of heart breaking.


Morning: I don't know if I remember the taste of sugar. Drink bland coffee and eat imposter sweetness of fruit.

Afternoon: Not so bad. Tea with sh*tloads of honey is helping somewhat. Might be able to do this an extra week!

Evening: Happy birthday, TWO colleagues with TWO kinds of cake! (Note to self: f*ck that extra week).

Night: I don't know if I remember what happiness feels like. I'm pretty sure there's no bumper sticker that says 'Happiness is a candy-free existence'.


Morning: Gross coffee, banana, longing stare at emergency Oreos. Last leg of the race, champ. You can do it.

Afternoon: Last useless dessert-free lunch! I'm going to dessert buffet at MIDNIGHT. (Note to self: Midnight Dessert Buffet = MILLION DOLLAR IDEA!)

Evening: Boyfriend calls. He has ordered a party-size cake to celebrate return from No Sugar Land. HUZZAH! Makes this flavour-free tea taste a lot better.

Night: A good chicken stroganoff makes all the difference. And PFFT PFFT who needs rice like whatevs.

Midnight: *screech enough to wake neighbour. Okay, not really, but would most def screech if mouth was not full of 7,000 calorie chocolate truffle cream.

02:00 am: Might be sick. Is Death By Chocolate 'Based on a True Story?' I think I am over the whole 'sugar' thing. #FruitNHoneyLife.