Aren't We All Beggars...

...before the throne of Candy?

I thought it was no longer true for me. I pretty much gave up sugar over 3 years ago. Oh yeah, I'll have a cookie here, or a small piece of cake there. I don't make many sweet things at home and when I do I don't necessarily have to have piece after piece as if it were the last time I'd ever see it again. I can say "No thank you" without any feelings of regret when chocolate is offered and am content to order water at a restaurant, then have a couple of sips from my husband's Root Beer when we go out for dinner. I can even drink herbal tea with very little agave added, but I do need lemon.

The day before Halloween I had to go to Costco and pick up my usual supply of veggies, fruit, whole grain bread, soy milk and organic pumpkin seed granola. Then I saw the bags of bulk candy and realized it was almost Halloween. I can't disappoint the little sugar-a-holics when they come to my door so I picked up a single bag and called it good. (Was it a subconscious choice that there were fun sized Almond Joys and Reeses Peanut Butter Cups in that bag?)

I was looking over the apples (HAVE YOU SEEN THE PRICE OF APPLES??) trying to decide if I would treat myself to some Honey Crisp apples or just go with the lower priced Fuji and got into a conversation with a young mother doing the same thing. Her little boy was munching away on some candy and she had 2 bags of candy in her cart. She convinced me to treat myself to some Honey Crisp apples, especially when I told her that I don't eat candy anymore...She was impressed. I was smug.

I got home, unloaded the groceries and started putting them away. I put the bag of candy on the dining room table (1st mistake, I should have taken it over to the neighbor's for safe keeping) and proceeded to find places for everything else when my eyes started straying to That Bag. At first scornfully, as the little voices started calling me through the cellophane bag and I dismissed them with the calm assurance of One Who Has Abstained. I don't know what happened then. I don't. I think I was possessed.

I Opened The Bag.

For all you mothers out there you KNOW: Opening the bag = ringing the dinner bell and saying "COME AND GET IT!" This was mistake #2 a sin.

One little fun sized Almond Joy lead to two, then three, then I just HAD to have a Reeses Peanut Butter Cup too because I just knew all the trick-or-treaters were going to trick-or-treat me out in less than 36 hours and THERE WOULDN'T BE ANY MORE because I don't have any children at home to rob!

I spilled the bag onto the table and threw that cellophane bag on the floor as I started pawing (PAWING) through the pile. I took ALL the little Almond Joys out of the pile and stashed them in a container at the back of my cupboard. SAFE! I guiltily ate one more Reeses Peanut Butter Cup with a large glass of milk (Ahhhhhh!) and scooped the rest of the candy into my largest bowl (it barely fit) which was comforting, I hadn't really made THAT much of a dent in it. Then I hid the bowl in the fireplace behind the chain curtain. "There", I said to myself. I'm fine now. I'm good. It was an aberration. It' won't happen again.

This is not the end of the story. Remember the little stash? The 15-20 fun sized Almond Joys hibernating in my cupboard? This is shameful, truly shameful, but I understand confession is good for the soul.

The trick-or-treaters came. And I was generous! I gave out two at a time to each little visitor, admired their costumes and waved them merrily on. Then I started worrying. The bowl was emptying faster than I expected and my husband isn't one to turn off the lights early. I began to worry that I would have to reveal my little stash ("Where did all these Almond Joys come from?" my husband would ask suspiciously. "They weren't here before.") I cringed. I was Lot's wife looking back to my little pile of pilfered coconut, almond and chocolate confections, loath to share it with anyone, and praying I wouldn't be turned into a pillar of salt. I started handing out only one to each little ghoul, and I did feel selfish. I kept looking at the clock, knowing that the door would be silent soon after 8. It came down to bottom of the bowl and those little Almond Joys were weighing heavier than a 50 lb. bag of sugar. But I did not relent.

I suggested that we just turn off the porch lights and close up shop but my generous husband would have none of that. No little sweet-toothed-beggar would go away empty handed from our door. No sirree! While the next trio waited at the door he leaped up the stairs and brought down, to my mounting shame, his own box of full sized Snickers Bars and handed them out. Guilt, Guilt, GUILT! But still, I would not relent. It was a matter of pride now. How shameful to reveal to my generous husband my smallness...I am small.

Then, in the end...he brought out the treats I keep on hand for my grand-daughter Sophie. (This is truly pitiful.) Her little bags of Teddy Grahams and Welches Fruit snacks. I couldn't watch. I went upstairs. Each step weighed down by the great weight of my, now 12, fun sized Almond Joys. I am a selfish monster.

The next day, November 1st, I made brownies for my husband. (He loves brownies.) He was having a meeting at our house that night and I decided to make up for my smallness and weakness by making refreshments. After making the batter I had a thought! "I am bigger than Fun Sized Almond Joy's." (A lot bigger.) I dug out my little stash, unwrapped each one and pressed them into the batter before baking. My offering to the new Sunday School Presidency looking for some redemption. How better to dress up chocolate brownies than with more chocolate and coconut?

During their meeting I went upstairs to sew and my beloved, forgiving, kind, and generous of spirit, sister Lisa called and I confessed...which lead to her confessions and we started laughing so hard I had to lay down on the floor. Tears flowed freely as we guffawed loudly and with an great hilarity bordering on insanity, (I wonder what those men thought of the insane cackling that was going on upstairs during their meeting.) about our similar foibles. We are sisters, it's true.

SHE! bought candy at the BEGINNING of October thinking it would last...after opening the bag. *snort* Yeah, right. Then she hid the bag on her husband's side of the bed. The honest man that he is would put the empty wrappers back in the bag, but SHE! would hide her wrappers at the bottom of the trash can so that he thought he'd eaten the entire bag himself. We are not so different. But there is comfort in not feeling alone.

I love you Lisa, from the top of your pointy head to the end of your webbed toes. xoxox

Next time I will not buy the candy. My husband will. And he will hide it...from me. He has way more will power than I do.

The Journey

This whole thing started out as sleeplessness and so far it's ended the same, but the journey inbetween has been...not what I expected, in a good way.


In the past 4+ months I have never felt so out of control, so tired, so unendingly sick, dizzy, anxious, nauseated, frantic and exhausted in my life. After 4 different prescriptions and the threat of a 5th I finally just said No. Stop. Wait.

I was so afraid that I would get addicted to the sleeping pills that I gave no thought to the "Lowest-Dose-of Hormones-You-Can-Get-In-A-Birth-Control-Pill" that was given to me to 'Balance' my hormones after a lengthy period of time with little or no sleep last October.

It was The Pill that caused the most problems. While it gave my flagging hormones a needed boost at the beginning it created a firestorm of negative effects for the next several months. Towards the end, meaning the last two weeks of taking The Pill, and the two weeks after that, I really did think I was going crazy. Literally. I was really, really scared. I cried at the drop of a hat or a casual, "Hey Kristine. How're you doing?" I was losing weight because I felt so nauseated most of the time. There were many days when I didn’t trust myself to drive because I was so dizzy. My hands shook. My thoughts raced. I couldn't concentrate on ANYTHING. No movies, no books, not even listening to books. I would pace around the house during the day with nervous, exhausted energy and not get anything done. Panic would fill my chest at the thought of fixing dinner for just Steve and I, let alone for a family get together. I longed for and dreaded bedtime. Crazy, frustrating dreams haunted my sleep. When in the temple, or in church meetings I had to hold on to the armrests of the chair or Steven’s hands to keep myself from jumping up and running out of the room, not even knowing why. I found out from friends that I'm an amazing 'faker'. I guess I can fake it pretty well for short periods of time.

My poor husband was the only one who saw it all. He's been such a rock, such a deep well of patience. I'd been praying for relief. Begging. I'd had several blessings and I had also been administered to. I felt so overwhelmed with daily tasks that I finally asked for more help.

The RS Presidency came over one night to 'visit'. I have a feeling they'd taken notice of my strange behavior in RS the Sunday before and they wanted to check on me. Melynda, who knew part of what was going on, asked me, "How's the sleep thing?" and I just broke down in tears and told them everything. They were very kind and understanding. I was so embarrassed but also relieved. We laughed about some of the stranger things and they shared some of their own experiences also. They stayed for more than an hour and when they left they all hugged me Hard, and told me they would all pray for me. I felt so unworthy, but so very thankful.

After a few days more of the same ol' nastiness I broke down and wrote an e-mail to my children, my brothers and sisters, and my parents asking for prayers of healing, and for understanding if I wasn't able to carry off the Family Reunion this year. (It's my turn.) The return of love and concern, and promises of prayers and help was so overwhelming and immediate that I spent the day in tears of gratitude. I even got e-mails and messages from nieces and nephews whom I didn't contact. Such is the family grapevine.

Things didn't change a whole lot for a few days and I was getting so very desperate. The sleeping pills weren't giving me more than 6 hours of sleep a night and often less than that. I went to see the Dr. again and he prescribed an anti-depressant telling me that I wouldn't feel the full effect for at least two weeks. I was hopeful and things went well for a couple of days and then I started feeling my heart rate rise for lengthy periods of time and then, when I went on my usual walk last Monday (March 5), my heart was racing so fast that my entire jaw ached up into the back of my head. It scared me. I thought to myself, "Is this a heart attack? A stroke?" I had no cell phone and I was walking along a deserted ditch bank. I slowed my pace and finally made it home then went right to the Doctor AGAIN. Yes, my blood pressure was unusually high and there was a mention of another prescription for high blood pressure and I finally said 'No. I'm going off the anti-depressant. I'm just going to take the pills for sleep and I'll see you at the end of the month and we'll take it from there.' I had also started some other, different things that have created a peaceful place inside me. A place to go, and things to do, that can only bring good things to my mind and heart.

I've seen the nurse twice since then to measure my blood pressure and today it was 110/80. Perfect.

I've had almost a week of 'feel good' days. No nausea. No dizziness. No helpless feelings of depression. The anxiety has lessened, though I still get minor panic attacks. I still don't get a full night’s sleep but I'm sure that will come in time.

I had no idea that when I was asking for help and prayers that they would be answered like this: My faith has increased incredibly. My awareness of the suffering of others has increased. My prayers lately have been far more grateful and heartfelt than ever before, and the askings are rarely for me anymore. What I've gone through in the past months is a drop in an immense bucket compared to a gentleman just down the block who has serious back pain, and has had it almost all his life, along with life threatening asthma but who has served as a bishop and is now the Stake Patriarch, and has always been a kind and generous man as long as I've known him.

-Or an amazing friend just down the street who is suffering with brain cancer/chemo/surgery and still has such faith and cheerfulness about her.

-Or the young mother of 4 young girls who is in her last weeks of pregnancy with twin boys and is on bedrest to keep them. She already knows that they will be born with cleft lips and possibly palates and may have to be taken C-section, yet she seems so peaceful and full of faith.

-Or the sweet friend who's been through, and is still going through what I've experienced and more, and she's also dealing with daily trips to the hospital to be with her dieing father.

I still have to take a pill to get any kind of sleep. But it's not an ISSUE any more. My Heavenly Father had a much greater blessing to bestow on me: I KNOW that I have an amazing network of loving and concerned friends and family. I've had an increase of faith and tender awareness of blessings. I have a greater appreciation for the atonement of my Savior, and the healing power of daily scripture study. And I understand on a much deeper level the power of Caring For Others. I live among angels and I want to be just like them.