“For never was a story of more woe, than this of a stressed out mama and her morning Starbucks caffeine load.” That’s how Shakespeare worded it, didn’t he?
Caffeine is fucking with my anxiety. I have known this for a hot minute. A few months ago, I asked my therapist the dreaded question about the relationship between the two. I knew the answer. But I cringed anyway when she confirmed my fears.
“Hey lady, why don’t you just drink decaf and quit being dramatic?” You might ask. Because cold brew doesn’t come in decaf YOU SAVAGES! So after some attempts at iced coffee, I went back to my usual morning deliciousness and ignored the effects.
It isn’t just coffee, it’s the diet soda I drink at dinner. I have been treating my body like a garbage dump due to stress about our living situation and the new house- I don’t look my best and I sure as shit don’t feel my best either. I know the caffeine is too much- I’ve only started drinking so much since we moved right fucking next to a Starbucks and I discovered what I had been missing all my adult life.
Considering the circumstances, my anxiety has been in check lately. But tonight at dinner I had a wake up call- I am tired and over it today, and three sips into my Diet Coke my anxiety hit me like a freight train. And my brain went- “yeah bitch we’ve done told you.” First of all- anxiety, you scornful bitch. I thought I had you on lock. Second- can I just live?!
So as in the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet, I too am experiencing needless loss. I am going to give up Starbucks during the work week. And cut back on the soda. And hydrate with water and good shit.
It’s not you, it’s me, Starbucks. Please forgive me, and don’t shade me when I see you on Saturday morning for my fix.