On an average day, I can go through 5-8 cups of coffee. Yes, I know this isn't healthy, so please don't start lecturing me. My coffee addiction started in high school. I come from a household where drinking coffee for breakfast, lunch, and dinner was the norm.
I recently had to go without coffee for a week (for medical reasons) and never cried so much in my life. These are the different phases of coffee withdrawal I experienced throughout the week.
Monday: Denial
The first phase of coffee withdrawal I experienced was denial. I woke up at 9 a.m., walked into my kitchen, and stared at my Keurig. After five minutes of staring, I turned it on. The machine finally warmed up and I pressed the large coffee brew button, as I do every morning. I knew this was wrong. As the machine finished pouring the last few drops, I stared at the large cup of coffee. I was already in too deep, I thought, I have to drink it now. I raised the cup of coffee to my mouth, knowing I shouldn't have even stepped foot into the kitchen in the first place. And then I did it, I took a sip. I couldn't believe what I just did. I was never a rule-breaker. Never have I ever been in trouble my whole life. I've never been in detention or had a suspension, or even gotten below an A in any of my classes before. But I did it. I broke the rule, I drank a sip, and immediately poured the cup into the sink drain. Denial.
Tuesday: Isolation
The second phase of coffee withdrawal I experienced was isolation. I woke up on Tuesday and took a sigh of relief knowing I only had two classes today. As opposed to Monday, I skipped my breakfast routine because I couldn't risk having another mishap. I already knew I was going to have a terrible day due to no coffee. I left for my class 5 minutes before it started so in case I ran into anyone I knew, I would have an excuse to not talk to them. I didn't look up from my laptop screen once during my classes. I walked straight to my apartment after my classes, and locked myself in my bedroom, only leaving for water and the occasional food. Complete isolation.
Wednesday: Anger
Wednesday, my worst day of the week; five classes plus meetings in the evening. The second I woke up, I knew today was going to be absolutely horrible. I cried about five times this day. Not only did I get into a verbal fight with about everyone I came into contact with, but I may have almost punched my best friend for tapping me on the back. So yeah, it was a bad day.
Thursday: Depression
Thursday I skipped all my classes. Yes, I can hear you all laughing through your computer screens. She skipped all her classes because she couldn't drink coffee? Well yeah, I did. I kept my shades closed, my door closed, and turned Grey's Anatomy on Netflix. I didn't leave my apartment that day.
Friday: Acceptance
After spending about 36 hours locked in my apartment, I finally accepted the fact, that coffee was no longer in my life, at least for the next 72 hours. I got out of bed, still feeling a little depressed from the day before, and went on with my day. I went to all my classes and even went out to dinner with my friends. No, I was not fully healed, but I was more accepting of my fate.
Saturday/Sunday: Independence
I knew this was it. It was about to be over. I no longer felt like I was attached to coffee. I no longer felt like I needed coffee to thrive. I was free from coffee.
Monday: Relief
I woke up the next Monday with a giant grin on my face. For today was the day I could return to my 8 cups of coffee a day addiction.
*Disclaimer: Don't ask why I didn't just drink decaf coffee. I'm no wussy."
