This paper documents a personal abstinence experiment in which the author, a person with diabetes, voluntarily gave up starches for one week to understand addiction dynamics. The author describes emotional responses, physical withdrawal symptoms (including "keto flu"), coping strategies, and multiple relapses. Drawing on course material about recovery and relapse prevention, the author reflects on how this experience deepened empathy for people in substance abuse recovery and revealed patterns of emotional eating tied to an addictive personality. The paper concludes that understanding the cyclical nature of relapse as a learning opportunity—rather than failure—has transformed the author's perspective on recovery.
Choosing something to give up was a difficult decision. I had already eliminated alcohol, drugs, smoking, and other harmful substances from my life, leaving me wondering what remained to abstain from. I was certain I would not give up swearing, as I believe it can be therapeutic to express myself colorfully when needed. Then the answer became clear: starches. As someone with diabetes, starch ranks among the top five substances I should avoid. Despite my love for breads, noodles, and potatoes, I decided to abstain from them for one week. My hope was to accomplish two goals simultaneously—please my doctor and lower my blood sugar levels.
The emotional impact began immediately. I noticed a profound sense of loss that surprised me. By the second day, I was experiencing full-blown withdrawal, craving potato chips and toast with particular intensity. Interestingly, I rarely ate toast in my normal diet, yet the craving was strong. By the third and fourth days, I became angry and irritable, and I found myself aware of this addictive behavior pattern but unconcerned about controlling it.
Physically, my blood sugar did decrease noticeably the longer I abstained from starches. However, I also experienced body aches and mild flu-like symptoms. I discovered this reaction is a recognized phenomenon. Wheat withdrawal has been labeled by different names over the years—"Atkins flu," "Paleo flu," "keto flu," and "low carb flu." Because this occurs specifically with carbohydrate restriction, it is commonly attributed to the body's delayed conversion from a glycogen and glucose-dominant metabolism to one relying on fatty acid oxidation.
Coping with these symptoms proved challenging. I struggled to stay abstinent despite the physical improvements. I experienced insomnia and woke during the night wanting crackers, becoming angry when I remembered I could not have them. I attempted to use the First Step from recovery programs—reciting "I am powerless over bread and my life is unmanageable"—but this provided only brief relief. Most of the time, I rationalized and justified eating a cracker or two, undermining my commitment to complete abstinence.
Work presented the most challenging environment for maintaining abstinence. Because I work evening shifts, I carry my dinner to work, and planning meals in advance proved difficult. It was far easier to grab something convenient at mealtime than to prepare food and transport it. I attempted substituting nuts for bread and chips, and I tried eating only the broth from chicken noodle soup, but these strategies proved ineffective.
In contrast, other situations were easier to navigate. I found that awareness and intentional planning—when I made the effort—significantly reduced cravings. However, the work environment's time constraints and limited options consistently undermined my resolve, making it the primary barrier to successful abstinence throughout the week.
My coursework in Becoming An Addiction Counselor provided crucial perspective on relapse. According to the course material, relapse is a normal, temporary recycling within the upward spiral of recovery (Davis, 2013; Myers, 2013). Rather than viewing relapse as failure, recovery frameworks encourage understanding it as an opportunity to learn new strategies and strengthen recovery. This reframing fundamentally changed how I experienced my own relapses throughout the week.
I relapsed many times during this experiment. Initially, I felt guilt after each relapse, but I found I could quickly redirect my energy back into the effort. With each new relapse, my resolve to abstain from breads and starches actually became stronger. More importantly, this experience transformed my understanding of my own eating patterns. I became more cognizant of why I ate certain foods and when I reached for them. I recognized that I am an emotional eater—I consume food to fill voids rather than to address actual hunger.
When angry, hurt, or overwhelmed, I would reach for buttered toast, baked potatoes, or boxed macaroni and cheese. These foods served as emotional regulation tools, filling the void created by difficult feelings. Understanding this connection between emotion and eating behavior was perhaps the most valuable insight from the experiment, and it applies directly to how I will work with clients struggling with substance use and emotional regulation.
"Professional empathy and personal recovery awareness"
You’re 77% through this paper. Sign up to read the remaining 1 section.
Sign Up Now — Instant Access Already a member? Log inAlways verify citation format against your institution’s current style guide requirements.