Confessions of a chocoholic: Comfort food (part 1 of four)

April 4, 3:02 PMSF Wellness ExaminerDiana deRegnier

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"When you're weary, feeling small, when tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all. I'm on your side when times get rough and friends just can't be found …" a bite of chocolate will lay thee down, I sang in my head as bittersweet morsels melted on my tongue. 

My drug of choice is 70% cocoa, barely sweet, even sugar-free. I eat chocolate when I'm down, when I'm confused, frustrated, angry, lonely, happy, excited or proud. I reward myself, comfort myself, calm myself and energize myself with chocolate. I am a chocoholic. And, I am not seeking recovery.

Thank goodness chocolate isn't illegal, immoral or fattening. Well, the first is, so far, a given, though the food police are incognito and may be lurking around every candy counter. Okay, so I could weigh 20 pounds less if I gave up chocolate -- perhaps! It depends on the replacement. There are worse things in which I might indulge.

Does it affect my life? Only if I don't have any – chocolate, that is. I have taken care to stockpile chocolate since that dreadful day in 1993. Okay, I don't remember the year; it was a long time ago. I had been in bed for two days with the flu: I ached, I shook, I had a migraine, I barely had energy to feel irritable.

Moaning and muttering, I slithered out of bed and ransacked the house for emergency change: silver dollars, Kennedy half dollars, dollar bills with Santa's picture pasted over George Washington and even -- gasp! -- the uncirculated Susan B. Anthony dollars I bought in support of recognition of women in history. Sweating viral toxins as I searched, too weak and unfocused to shower, dress and drive, I contemplated how much it could possibly cost to send a taxi to the market for a bag of chocolate chips.

In the end, I wore myself out with the search and the argument that the idea hinted at neurosis. I made it through the night wrapped in layers of blankets, staring at the Rorschach lion's head in the wood grain on the closet door and watching escapism television.

Some months after the dark day of chocolate-deprivation, a pharmacy consultant suggested magnesium supplements to prevent migraines. Unexpectedly, I soon found myself not dipping into the bittersweet chips as often as usual. Magnesium is now a mainstay of my diet as well, either in supplements or in brussel sprouts or spinach. I avoid large doses though which may eliminate the craving, because, frankly, I don't want to cure my addiction.

Chocolate, anywhere, is like a night on the town. The occasion and my wallet dictate how richly I pamper myself. Straight from the oven, flourless, dark chocolate soufflé with a molten hot center oozing like lava from a volcano fulfills the ultimate experience. Bite-size candy bars satisfy mild-indulgence needs, and hard-core baking chips get me through any dark hour.

Return to this column next week for part 2 of four as I journey into the heart and soul of my addiction.   
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Diana deRegnier writes from the San Francisco Bay Area. Diana's articles appear in Web sites and print publications around the world. © Diana deRegnier 2009.