This morning I can steadfastly dispute that the severity of the withdrawal symptoms from caffeine are not an urban myth. They are, quite simply, real. Very real
Since the purchase of an Espresso Machine, my intake of coffee is already Italian in it’s quantity and strength, and before my detox was to begin on Sunday morning, I saw no harm in increasing the final intake. Friday saw the usual 3 espressos before sunrise, followed by hourly shot updates, and, before my run, the consumption of a five hour energy drink. Not content with the status quo, a Red Bull mid afternoon. It can only be said that, come 9pm, I was in no fit state to be lying quietly on my children's’ beds to read them a bedtime story, nor unwind for the evening. Having run out of elastoplasts I was desperately trying to improvise in making a plaster to wrap around my thumbs to prevent my chewing the nail right off.
Saturday, I sufficed with one coffee to ease myself into the detox on Sunday.
Sunday morning brought fresh horrors as I woke with a headache of gargantuan proportions, inextinguishable with Paracetomol, Neurofen, or even “for emergency use only” Codeine. By midday I was a quivering wreck, pale, sweating and irascible. It was no use. Conveniently eating lunch in an Italian restaurant an “esspresso doppio” is ordered aand consumed simultaneously. Problem immediately solved. I think I will save that particular mountain for another day, but it does beg the one question. What the hell is in an espresso ?