Death by Chocolate Hobnob

I have an addiction to biscuits.

Some people can open a packet of Hobnobs, have one and then put the rest away for another day. Even the dark chocolate ones.

What is wrong with these people.

Rachie, my amazing wife, will store treats in a cupboard for days and weeks (hidden from me). Nibbling on the odd biscuit when the fancy takes her.

I, on the other hand, take considerable pride in my ability to transform a full packet of chocolate loveliness into nothing more than a crumpled wrapper in a single evening. Supported only by the steamy promise of a cup of tea.

The truth is I simply can't help myself.

The first biscuit tastes utterly perfect. There simply aren't the words in the English language to portray the impact that first bite has on my taste buds. My mouth is watering now at the very idea of it.

The second biscuit tastes good and follows soon after. By the middle of the pack the enjoyment has largely gone though. Something deep in my lizard brain is insistent that my very reason for being is to finish the packet, irrespective of the burning mouth, gastric crisis and insulin shock that is ensuing.

It is an odd thing that something that starts so pleasurably can become so disagreeable through excess. Odder still that I still want more irrespective of the impact that has on my evening.

For some reason a single taste is never enough to satisfy.

So much of life feels the same. It is very easy for our lives to be filled with an insatiable appetite for more. New clothes, the latest tech gadget, stuff for the house, the next car. Holidays abroad to help us relax and get the sun we are denied while working for hours indoors to pay for it all.

Kids makes this many times worse in my experience. We show our love to them by showering them with more and more things. We build the expectation and then satisfy it, to show we love them. We create a generation of super-consumers and work harder to ensure we can supply.

A question though: does any of this stuff make us happier?

Presumably the only reason we would act this way is to feed our happiness; right?

I am no longer convinced.

From personal experience (and I have to admit that I am the worst offender I know) living this way is, at best, empty. Usually it gives rise to a fleeting, short lived type of happiness. It is one though that is followed by the nagging question, "what's next". It consistently fails to deliver the unfettered, life altering joy we had hoped for.

So we work hard to earn money to buy things we don't need that don't bring us joy. We live as good consumers and in doing so rack up stress and financial pressure, while depleting the earth's resources at a disturbing rate. Let's celebrate UK GDP growth while being oblivious to any measures of quality of life.

Let's be honest though. We all know this. Deep down we all know we aren't living as we could. To quote the amazing Elvis Costello we're "diving for dear life when we could be diving for pearls".

The reality is that it is very hard to stop. This is one treadmill that is terrifying to step off.

I work hard. Through blood, sweat, tears and a failed marriage I have built a successful career. I deserve all this shit I buy, don't I? Have I really worked all of these years only to have a crap car, old clothes, an old phone and holidays at home? It is okay to enjoy the fruits of my labour……… and so the well rehearsed rhetoric goes.

Yet, I know that what brings me utter joy is time with my family and friends. Walks with the dogs. Pottering in the garden. A Sunday lunch then a snooze by the fire. People and time, not stuff.

This year I learnt that I eat biscuits when I'm pissed off. I often don't even realise I'm pissed off until the last biscuit is devoured and the empty packet is dropped in the bin. What would happen I wonder if I stepped off the merry-go-round. How would stopping my insatiable need for things change my outlook on life? How would it change how I live day-to-day and minute-to-minute.

 I think I need to find out. I'll just have a cuppa and hobnob first.