Hi. My name is Chris and as ridiculous as it sounds I have to admit that I’m addicted to chewing ice. Did you know it could happen? I did. 12 years ago, I was a hardcore addict. Back then, I’d gather my cup, teeming over with ice to sit in front of a heater vent, happily chomping. I sat on the floor because the ice would freeze me from the inside out and I needed the heater to warm me back up.
just stop chewing it, dummy.
I know that’s the logical answer. Stop chewing ice. I know that it makes sense. I get it but just like any addiction, it’s easier said than done. You can realize you should stop doing it without a drive to stop.
The cause of my previous ice obsession was anemia. Did you know a significant iron deficiency can make you an insane ice cruncher? I lost all urge to chew ice after my levels were raised but now it’s returned. Bloodwork has been ordered to prove what my body has been screaming at me for the last 6 months. It tells me with this insatiable desire to consume ice that it needs iron.
I know the cause of this delimma and I know the solution. More iron = no more ice chewing. Am I taking an iron supplement? Or a vitamin of any kind? No. Because like any addict, my brain does not want to let go of what it perceives to hold dearly. My brain thinks it needs the ice chewing even though what it really needs me to do is take a pill every day.
It came to a comical head the other day when an intervention of sorts was thrown on my behalf. At dinnertime, the kids set the table while Dan & I finished cooking. They set out plates, silverware, napkins and drinks. They put them in unusual places and so Dan asked where he was sitting. Gerrit pointed to one seat and then he proclaimed “mommy, you’re at the cup with no ice… it’s for your own good!”
I laughingly asked: “for my own good, huh?”
Emma said: “yes! we don’t want you to die!”
Now, that sounds a little over the top dramatic but I realized that they really thought I would eventually die from it. Probably because I’d choked on a piece of ice in the movie theater on Easter. There we’d sat, happily watching HOP when a stray chunk of ice went sliding down my throat. I gargled and gasped, managing to dislodge it while a befuddled Dan stared at me. Apparently, the kids noticed this freak event and are now convinced I will meet my demise if I continue on this path of destructive behavior. Add mom guilt to the stack of reasons I should quit chewing.
Emma even tried bargaining with me… “i’ll quit biting my nails if you stop chewing ice”. 😦
And so, it’s time to admit I’ve fallen off the wagon, er… ice tray. I quit chewing ice before. I know I can do it again. Why can’t I get addicted to things that are good for me? Bet no one has ever had an intervention called on them for vitamins. ~sigh~