Breaking Up

We met through my mother. On our trips to the city every now and then my mum would visit him. She would order him from a young man with a pimply face, and my sister and I would fight over his delicious froth on top. I think this was much to my mothers disgust as she didn't get any of the froth. I tried him when I was a child, but he was too bitter for my sweet, childish tastes.

His name, coffee. And this was the start of our relationship.

In year twelve I learnt how to make an iced version of him. Two spoons of sugar, one of instant coffee, disolved in hot water, 80% milk and iced cream on top. Having finally having access to a year twelve room, I started having instant coffee with two sugars. There was nowhere nearby to have a latte or cappuccino in the city.

When I finally moved to Bendigo, a bigger place than home, to study, I learnt the joy of the store bought expresso. We started seeing each other a bit more. Sometimes I would treat myself to a cappuccino when out with friends at La Porchetta or Joe Joe's. Sometimes I would get a skinny latte in a paper cup at the university cafe (and then there was the milkshake phase, but that's another story).

One night I turned to him out of desperation. I was feeling the pressure for an about-to-become-overdue assignment and drank coffee. Lot's of coffee. Until I got the shakes and I couldn't concentrate - quite the opposite to what I needed.

A friend gently told me that I needed to some space and not see coffee for a while. There was a rebound though. She introduced me to Green Tea. Green Tea was gentle, and gave me the same happy feelings that coffee had given.

Every now and then I would see coffee. I remember going out with a group of friends and I saw him as a once-off. It was just casual, nothing romantic. But we reminisced about the good days together. My friend made me aware that, "you and coffee are best friends for going silly". It was true. I told coffee it was nice to catch up, and that I'd see him again. But I preferred to see him out with friends in a cafe than home alone from a jar of instant nescafe.

So many photos of our memories together

I then moved to a city where he was well known. I saw him from time to time, especially now I was studying again. But I only saw him every now and then and only in public. Living with some Chinese people I enjoyed some different forms of Chinese tea.

I got married and would regularly enjoy a pot of tea together with my husband. When I started working full time I would see coffee every day as I would drive to work. Soon I became addicted to him. I had a problem. I justified this problem with being able to work and buy a $3.50 cup of gold every morning (and even have a free one after I bought 5). The more demanding work became, the more I became addicted. This addiction came with me after I lost my job and started less stressful work. By this time I was pregnant with Luke and convinced myself that even though coffee tasted bad now, it would some how help me cope with the nausea.

When Luke was born I made a point of going out every day. I no longer saw green tea. I started seeing coffee every day, either walking to the local coffee shop or going out to Fountain Gate. Luke became a well known bub at the local.

But I formed an even bigger addiction. I invested too much money into coffee, but I do agree that part of this was helpful in preventing the constant feeling of isolation or PND. I have made lots of great friends in the local coffee shop. The problem is I had become so addicted that I couldn't let a day go by without drinking real coffee. This I guess comes with the sleepless nights that come with being a mother of a newborn and beyond.

Recently I was made aware that this relationship was getting addictive, but coffee was getting abusive. A week ago, before doing some shopping, I 'treated' (can't be a treat if I do it every day?) myself to coffee and proceeded to do some shopping. I had a lot of things to buy, so I pulled a shiny $2 coin out of my purse and stuck it into the shopping trolley (this is why I like Ikea - this concept doesn't exist!). I placed Luke into the 'seat' provided and set upon my way. I got through about a third of my list when I started to feel a funny sensation in my stomach. I told myself that it was nothing and proceeded to find baking powder.

all the signs were there

Standing in the egg aisle I felt the sensation getting stronger, and more painful. I knew I needed a toilet,
and fast. But unlike other times I'd gone shopping, I didn't have a pram, and I had only bought my phone and wallet - so gathering these and Luke to get myself to the nearest exit was one thing, but what about my shopping and shiny $2 coin in the trolley?

I hailed a young staff member and asked if he could mind my shopping because I needed to go to a toilet and quick. He surprisingly agreed and put my trolley aside in a closed check out lane, warning me that the toilets close at 4pm. It was 3:50.

I grabbed Luke, my phone and purse and powerwalked to the toilet (running might speed up the process in the wrong way). I went for the womans set of cubicles, sat with a sigh of relief and let Luke stand on the floor (what else to do?). I tried desperately to entertain Luke, all while groaning in pain. He was quite interested in pulling all the toilet paper out or licking the silver walls.

The janitor, who has the same name as a certain Korean-pop sensation opened the door and called out to see if anybody was still in, to which I desperately called out "I am! Won't be long!" (I have a fear of being locked in a toilet which stems from a certain childhood event that I'm sure my sister can recall). Luke was amazed by the flushing water. I proceeded to wash my hands, and Luke's, and find the nice man in Coles who saved my trolley, continuing on with my big shop as my stomach felt empty of all contents.

This was not the first time something like this had happened. This same abuse from coffee also happened on Mothers day, and coffee also abused my husband on this same day. We were simultaneously in this same 'situation'.

So I decided to stop seeing coffee. I thought it would be a good financial commitment as well. I have started seeing tea again, but not just Green. Earl Grey and White, along with the occasional Brisbane breakfast. I realised that for the amount I spend going out for coffee I could buy a cube of tea from T2 a week which would last me three months. The benefits of drinking tea are obvious.

So this week I have stopped seeing coffee, but I think to help with the break up has been Luke sleeping a bit better. But today I relapsed. I fell into the arms of coffee again, as he assured me he wouldn't abuse me at a CHURCH! But I realised he is abusive anywhere. Our relationship is unhealthy, and it has to end. Wish me luck.