Abstinence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder.

Abstinence Makes the Heart Grown Fonder.  Thoughts on Logic vs. Emotion.

Have you ever wondered why addictive behaviors are so hard to quit?  Be it embarking on the latest fad diet and cutting out everything but carrots, to stopping yourself from calling your ex at 2AM on a Saturday night, why are these things so hard to stick to?  Why is it practically impossible for your friends to pry your iPhone from your Vulcan Death Grip while texting said ex at an ungodly time of night, because you simply MUST communicate with them RIGHT THIS INSTANT or you might quite possibly spontaneously combust?  How many times have you sworn off calling this person, only to find yourself speed dialing their number on repeat, like a broken record?  I’d like an honest answer here because I’m pretty sure we’ve all been there at one point or another.  Highly reminiscent that scene in Swingers when Jon Favreau calls the girl he met at a bar around 50 times and leaves ridiculously awkward messages on her voicemail. 

How many times have you decided to give up chocolate in hopes of one day being able to fit into your jeans from high school that you’ve been saving for all these years, only to find yourself positively obsessing about the stuff.  If someone shares a box of Girl Scout cookies at work, do you stare enviously at your colleagues who are “allowed” to indulge in what has now become your focus, your obsession, the bane of your very existence?  Do you now somehow believe that your life would be complete if only you were allowed to taste the sugary, chocolaty, buttery goodness of ONE MORE Hershey Bar?  Heck, you’d even settle for a single M&M at this point!  And go out into the freezing rain in the middle of the night to get one.

Well, I have a theory on the subject.  It all comes down to the simple reality that we want what we can’t have.  Bottom line.  The grass is always greener, the wine really is sweeter, on the other side of the hill.  At least in our own minds.  Because really, would you be obsessing about this ex or chocolate or <insert your favorite forbidden fruit> here had you not decided that they were off-limits?  You probably didn’t even eat chocolate all that much.  You probably didn’t even like your ex.  But the second they are now officially persona non grata, how much more do you crave just one last phone call?  One last encounter?  One more bite of chocolate mousse?

The irony of this scenario is that the only person denying ourselves the right to consume chocolate, or speak to a particular person, is ourselves.  No one is breathing down our neck telling us we are no longer allowed to eat carbs, only carrots, or a grave consequence will ensue, such as lighting coming down to strike upon even eyeballing a Ferro Roche.  Nope, only our own guilty conscience will be the end result.  So, in the process of denying ourselves what we have decided is no longer good or healthy for us, we essentially place said object up on a pedestal, god-like, to be worshipped and relentlessly craved. 

However, as satisfying as that first bite into a Big Mac after weeks of abstinence might be, isn’t it disappointing how the remainder doesn’t taste nearly as amazingly wonderful, rapturous, and deliciously sinful, as we had made it out to be in our own mind?  Isn’t it kind of a let-down when your next encounter with your ex simply reminds you of the reasons you broke up in the first place?  Because he doesn’t like Neil Diamond and you love him.  Because he is offended by your use of cacti in decorative arrangements and repulsed by the sight of them.  Because you can’t agree on even the most benign of issues and proceed to argue relentlessly over who is the better actor, John Cusack or Jim Carey, until you make a scene in a quiet restaurant and are subsequently politely asked to leave. 

We romanticize about our fond memories of things and people we’ve blacklisted, that we’ve generally banished from our lives for our own good.  Why?  Because we only remember the good times, and simply want what we can’t have.  Our hindsight is not, in fact, 20-20, but through rose colored glasses.  But why not simply rejoice in the fact that you are now free of this unhealthy food, bad relationship, bad habit?  Easier said than done.  We fully understand logically why we should no longer do <insert poor habit here>.  It’s our emotional attachment to whatever it is we’re trying to quit that gets in the way.  And therein lies the problem.

I’m not attempting to purport that I hold the solution to this conundrum.  But, I do tend to agree with GI Joe that “knowing’s half the battle.” Will keep you posted on whether I eventually solve the mystery, crack the code, figure out the other half.  Until then, I for one, will shortly be embarking on a frantic hunt through the streets of Manhattan for the largest burger I can lay my hands on.  And the richest piece of flourless chocolate cake I can find.  Followed by a good old fashioned session of cyber stalking of <insert random ex of my choosing> on Facebook, for good measure J. 

On second thought, I’ll probably just stay in and watch a rerun of Swingers and remind myself of the fact that “You’re Money, Baby….You're Like a Big Bear, Man!  You’re So Money!”