Hello again, dear internet. Today
is a ‘Very Special Entry’ in my blog. Today we’re talking about addiction… to
energy drinks. Laugh if you will, but I feel these magical beverages are a dangerous
force and should be treated carefully.
It all began when I was
seventeen-year-old gent, popping over to my boyfriend’s abode. Whilst there, I
was offered an energy drink. I had heard of such things before. Red Bull, for
example, is marketed often on TV. However, my juvenile mind thought that
because energy drinks were high in caffeine – they would taste like coffee. Ew.
But eventually, I relented and
tried some of the energising elixir. My goodness – that didn’t taste like
coffee at all. Imagine a soft drink (any will do, they all blend together in
the end), but better. I’ve tried many brands of energy drink since then and the
taste is surprisingly uniform. It’s a sort of… fruity taste, but with an extra
something just behind it. I’m inclined to say it’s got a metallic aftertaste,
but in a really, really good way.
I struggled sleeping that night,
due to the phantasmal effects of that dull-gold (the colour being another
staple of energy drinks) liquid. But life carried on.
Fast-forward five years and we
find myself working at my current job, in a call centre. The shifts are long
and I, being young and foolish, have a habit of staying up late. The allure of
energy drinks tempted me, and on a particularly tired day, I bought a bottle of
the stuff at lunch.
Maybe I was particularly
exhausted that day, but that was the first time I truly felt the effects of an energy drink. Within half an hour of
finishing the bottle, my world changed. I was suddenly more alert and
perceptive than I had ever been in my whole life. Every one of my senses was
turned up to its maximum. My mind was racing and yet so very clear. My fingers
flew across the keyboard. My mouse clicked with a sniper’s accuracy. It was a
fantastic feeling and I never wanted it to end.
The come down-which came roughly
an hour later, was sudden and hard.
My mood plummeted and my body was reduced to a slow, sloppy, mess of yawns and
grumbles. Had my tiredness returned, or was this just how normal people felt?
Even now, I can’t be sure. But whilst I was sitting there, half-slumped over in
a dull, grey world, I remembered how it felt when I was running on the energy
drink’s power. I started to ask myself, why doesn’t everyone want to feel this
way? Is this how we’re supposed to function? If there’s a way to be the best
you possibly can, why don’t we do it?
So I kept on buying energy
drinks. I got several multi-packs at home and always took a few to work. They
became a staple of my day. It was normal. I’d always have some – even if I wasn’t
tired. I’d wake up, have a can, then another on
the way to work, then one before my shift, then one with lunch, then one
or two when I got home as well. Any one of those cans I just mentioned, may or
may not have been a litre bottle, depending on the day.
That’s when I realised I was
addicted.
It was a bizarre thought, sitting
down and taking stock of need. I didn’t
like it. The idea of addiction, of being reliant on something, wasn’t something
that sat well with me. I decided to give up the energy drinks. The very next
day, I went cold turkey.
It was one of the longest,
hardest days I’ve had in a long time. It was as if the hours of tiredness I’d
been fighting back, all came on at once. I felt as if I’d gone a week without
sleeping. People at work noticed. I’m quiet at work. No one ever notices.
Yet I managed to survive. It’s
not a perfect recovery. If I have a hard night, then sometimes the allure of
that sparky, golden mistress is too much. But I like to think that I’ve at
least got a handle on it. I know when to stop.
So in short kids, energy drinks
are fun. They can help you achieve a level of attention and dexterity that you
never thought you had. But it’s not worth it. The quantity you need slowly goes
up and up, almost without noticing. The comedown is harsh and withdrawals are
exhausting.
Invite that witch’s brew into
your life… at your own peril.
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