So I went on a beer fast for one week.
No beers. No coffee.
What a headache I got.
It was a pulse-pounding, lord-forgive-me headache that kept drumming on the left side of my head and just above my eyebrow.
Despite the pain, I felt that I was making progress. After all, denying my body of toxins and stimulants could only do me good. And I feel like I’ve achieved sainthood in my denial of pleasure.
This Post Isn’t About Pain From Abstinence
As you can see, I like denial: “No no no. And Mary Mary very contrary.”
Hence this post is about pain from giving in. Particularly to beers.
I had two beers. Two beers spaced over two hours. In metric volume, that’s one litre of the fizzy, syrupy stuff sipped over two hours.
Two hours later, my head felt like a clan of Gully Dwarves had babbled nonsense into my memory and stomped on my neurons.
image from minmaxboards
That was an unpleasant sensation.
More than that, I felt dirty. Like I’ve slipped into mulch. And rose with muck spilling from my pockets and sewage matted in my hair.
Thankfully, I got past without a hangover the next day. But for the next week and beyond, I’m staying away from beer (and booze).
And back into detox mode.
Featured image from Loneriderbeer