Episode 1 · Duration: 18:28

About this episode

Welcome to the very first episode. Today, I’m not holding anything back. I’m taking you inside the exact moment my life literally folded in half like a napkin. We are talking about the ugly truth of hustle culture, how a harmless cup of coffee snowballed into a terrifying 2,000mg-a-day caffeine addiction, and the massive wake-up call that forced me to completely change my life.

If you rely on five coffees, energy drinks, and constant caffeine to get through your daily grind, you need to hear this episode before your body makes you stop.

Hit subscribe so you don't miss an episode, and if this story hits home for you, share it with a friend who is drinking a little too much coffee today. Let's get to work.

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Transcript

My hands got cold and clammy, my stomach painfully cramped, and I folded in half like a napkin. I started to feel disoriented and lightheaded, and I could feel my heart thumping, thumping, thumping. I don't remember anything more before reaching for my desk and waking up surrounded by EMT workers and the few employees that had flooded in by then. I refused to go to the hospital and even stayed to finish my work. I did leave about an hour early and decided not to tell Paul. He was working late on a business plan of his own and surely didn't need any extra stress from me. Paul eventually found out about my episode from a co-worker and mutual friend and insisted that I make an appointment to see the family doctor. I did the next day. Listen, we all talk about the grind, but most of you are subsidizing your hustle with a chemical loan you can't pay back. In this new series, Unwired, we aren't just talking theory. We're going into the dirt with 40 anonymous stories of people who thought they were using caffeine to be superheroes, only to realize it was the very thing dismantling their health and their marriages. This is the case study of the hidden tax on your ambition. First up, Caffeine Blues, a 20-year-old mom and corporate climber who thought caffeine made her a superhero. She thought it made her a better wife and a better lover. She was wrong. It turned her into a stranger who slapped her husband in a caffeine-induced fugue state. This is what happens when harmless habits become an identity. SCR Inc. Audiobooks presents Confessions of a Caffeine Addict: 40 True Anonymous Stories, edited by Marina Kushner. Read by Sariana Gregg. First confession: Caffeine Blues. I was 20 years old when I married my childhood sweetheart, Paul. I was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and I woke up with the man of my dreams every morning and went to bed with him every night. I was in total bliss. Soon we had our first daughter, Amiya, and in a short 18 months later, our second, Brittany. Life was great if I did not count the daily decline in energy that I began to notice. When I finished college, I started a new job and began working full-time in addition to being a mom, wife, and housekeeper. Phew! I was pooped, listless, and lifeless. In bed by 10 PM and up by 5 AM. I had never been much of a coffee drinker, except for the occasional latte, but that gradually changed. A harmless cup of coffee in the morning turned into another cup in the afternoon and then into a cup in the evening so that I could stay up long enough to see my darling husband Paul before I turned in. Many mornings I'd wake up on the couch after passing out waiting for Paul to get home. Eventually I was up to 5 cups of coffee a day: one to wake up in the morning, one on the way to work, one at midday, one on the way home from work, and one in the late evening. And we're not just talking average-sized cups of coffee. We're talking Venti's, the big ragu of coffee cups. Yep, 20-ounce cups of extra bold whole bean Italian roast. It was my drug of choice during the day, with the exception of an 18-ounce Colombian blend homemade late in the evening. Coffee had to be a gift from the gods. Paul was the first who noticed my erratic behavior, but it was my 3-year-old Amiya who was the first to say anything. It was her admonishment from her playpen to stop "wunning." "Wunning?" I hadn't been "wunning" at all, but Paul said that maybe I should take her advice and stop "running" around before I passed out. I assured Paul that I was fine and that I hadn't had that much energy since my first years of high school. Boy, I was bouncing off the walls and loving it. Paul, on the other hand, was concerned and a little put off by my newfound energy. I didn't understand it at first. In fact, I thought that Paul would be thrilled by my ability to get things done and to be an active mom at the same time. Not to mention a good lover. Wonder Woman had her Lasso of Truth, Thor had his hammer, and I had my coffee. Couldn't he see that caffeine made me a superhero? All was well until I had my first attack. The girls had spent the weekend with my parents, and Paul and I were able to take a vacation for 2 weeks. And steal some time with each other. It was mid-afternoon and 3 cups of coffee later. Paul had come home from filling up the picnic basket, and I had apparently passed out on the couch waiting all of the 20 minutes it took for him to pick up a few items at the store and get back to fetch a few things to take with us to Dotweiler Beach. I hadn't heard Paul clunk through the door, though he was an unusually hard walker and happened to be carrying a pocketful of keys at the time. I always knew when he was home, but this time I didn't hear him thump and clang across the hardwood floor. I had always been a light sleeper, and all Paul usually had to do was brush lightly against my face or bare arm and I'd wake up. But this time I jumped out of my sleep and off the couch with a shriek so loud that it startled Paul so badly that he tripped over his own feet and landed on his wallet. The gentle touch that I'd grown to love about Paul now scared me out of my wits and made him think twice about touching me in my sleep again. We didn't end up going on any picnic that day. When I did wake up, I couldn't figure out why I had been so scared or why I was crying. Paul just sat in a heap against the fireplace, bug-eyed and flushed. After a few moments, all he could manage to say was, "Honey, are you okay?" To which I angrily replied, "Does it look like I'm okay?" Poor Paul, helpless as usual when he thought it was 'that time of the month' for me, but I told him that it wasn't. I didn't know what was wrong. I felt lethargic and numb, yet extremely anxious and nervous. "It's the coffee and sodas, hun. Ya need to slow down. Can't you see they're driving you crazy?" I wasn't listening anymore. I was loo-drippin' a cup of my best Kenyan brew. "Hun, you're messin' with your adrenaline, and this caffeine's becoming toxic and addicting." Are you listening to me? I didn't want to hear it. No, I'm not, Paul. Now leave me alone, I said furiously. And I meant it. I sat down and drank my coffee and wanted nothing more than for Paul to leave and not come back until after the sunset. And he obliged, returning after the sun had set and risen again. Paul was always a mama's boy, and his mother had called to let me know that Paul was there and had knocked out in his old bedroom. I realized that I had to prove myself to Paul and have him knock out those silly notions of me being addicted to coffee and killing my own natural stimulants. So I took a few more weeks off work to catch up on some sleep and take care of the kids without drinking a single cup of coffee. In fact, to prove my point that one could not possibly be addicted to caffeine, I gave him the go-ahead to trash all the coffee and hide the coffee maker that I'd bought myself for my own birthday as well as the slow dripper that I'd acquired at a local yard sale. He gave a sly grin and a hunch of the shoulders that sealed the deal. So be it, it was done, amen. It wasn't until the middle of the night of the second day that I began to experience really strong cravings for coffee and soda. On the first day, I had already consumed a considerable 3 cups of coffee that held me tidy, but by the next morning I was searching for my beloved coffee in total confusion about our little bet, while angrily conceding behind fake laughter and a half-smile. Yes, I remembered our bet, but in the middle of the night I woke up with a sudden strong urge for coffee. Well, coffee wasn't the first thing that woke me up. It was my own heartbeat. My heart was beating so hard and fast that it shook me fully awake. I was frightened and rushed to the bathroom to sp— Quick pause for a second. If you're hearing yourself in this book, I built two things to go deeper than this audiobook can. First, there's Unwired, a caffeine cessation app where you can track your own withdrawal timeline, sleep, mood, and crashes day by day. And inside Unwired, you can work one-on-one with a coach who actually understands caffeine addiction and will walk you through a real plan instead of you guessing alone. The waitlist link is at the very top of the description. Second, there's the Unwired podcast built around 40 real caffeine case studies. Students, parents, founders, night shift workers walking through the same crashes you're hearing about right now. The link is right next to the app. If you want more than information, if you actually want a plan, a coach, and stories that feel like yours, hit those links. Then come right back. Splash cold water on my face. When I turned around to head back to the bedroom, Paul was right behind me with a curious and concerned gaze. What's the matter, honey? You don't look good. Are you feeling all right? You twitched and jumped in your sleep for most of the night, but I was scared to wake you up. I don't know why I did it, but I reached out and slapped him hard across his right cheek. He was shocked. I was shocked. He stood in the doorway. I made a beeline for the garage to get my coffee maker and an emergency stash that I kept in the trunk of the Volvo station wagon. Paul didn't say anything as he sat across from me while I downed an 18-ounce cup of emergency Folgers. He didn't even say anything when my hands shook so uncontrollably that I burned my thumb trying to steady the cup while scorching hot streams of caffeine heaven flooded down the side of the cup. I guess I deserved that burn. So this little experiment didn't work out. I realized that I really needed coffee and continued to drink it as usual, and Paul continued to pay regular visits to his mom and God only knows where else. It wasn't so much the coffee itself that pushed us apart, but the arguments that stemmed from one little simple warning. To my defensive little simple accusations and his defensive little "just watch and see," to my offensive little "mama's boy" name-calling, which resulted in his big defenseless eyes glazing over before he got up and left to mother's or elsewhere. Paul never said anything anymore, not about the coffee or anything else. I know he wanted to warn me about my sour stomach, or tell me that my excessive passing of urine and weekly diarrhea weren't normal, or that I was being cold all the time, especially in Los Angeles in July. He never said anything when I gained weight, which was later attributed to an increase in stress hormones. Paul was a gentleman. He just worried about me, and he hated being around when I had the headaches. The palpitations, the absent-mindedness, which was increasing all the time, the exhaustion, the worsened depression, the anxiety, and the mood swings. Things that I'd never experienced before submitting to my master, caffeine. I wanted it. I needed it. And I was addicted to it. I sat on the patio in total realization, sipping from the dark roast and watching my kids play. I always played with them, but this time I was sincerely afraid that I was going to pass out and Paul wasn't home. One day I did pass out. I was at work bright and early trying to finish a project before the deadline. It should have been done the night prior, but the sound of Paul hammering away at the kids' playhouse made me so nervous and antsy that I plugged up my ears and shivered myself to sleep before 2 AM. I hadn't had coffee or any means of caffeine since earlier in the day, but I managed to get through the night. This was quite an accomplishment for me. But of course, on the way to work, I stopped at a 7-Eleven and got my coffee fix. Other than the page downstairs, I was the only one in the building when I started to feel sick. My hands got cold and clammy, my stomach painfully cramped, and I folded in half like a napkin.. I started to feel disoriented and lightheaded, and I could feel my heart thumping, thumping, thumping. I don't remember anything more before reaching for my desk and waking up surrounded by EMT workers and the few employees that had flooded in by then. I refused to go to the hospital and even stayed to finish my work. I did leave about an hour early and decided not to tell Paul. He was working late on a business plan of his own and surely didn't need any extra stress from me. Paul eventually found out about my episode from a coworker and mutual friend and insisted that I make an appointment to see the family doctor. I did, the next day. Dr. Werner ran some tests and did some blood work and confirmed that my symptoms were undoubtedly due to the overconsumption of caffeine. As I was taking in well over 2,000 milligrams a day, with a significant increase around the time of my fainting spell. On top of that, I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder as a result of my caffeine intake and had to begin taking an anti-anxiety medication to cope with my irrational thoughts and fears. To make matters worse, I was advised to give up coffee while on my anti-anxiety meds, as the two would cause my heart to race and abnormally excite and stimulate my nervous system. Gee whiz! So here I am, taking anxiety meds twice a day without caffeine. The problem was that the medication made me lethargic and sleepy, and coffee had always been my cure for such. When I did throw caution to the wind and consume them both, my heart raced so fast that I knew it was all going to be over, and all I could think about was my kids and Paul. Paul had taken Amiya and Britt to his sister's in Sacramento for a week in order to give me time to get myself and my thoughts together. When my heart finally did settle, I threw out the coffee makers and tossed the coffee into the large bin in the backyard. I cried and cried and wondered how I had arrived at this place. When Paul served me with divorce papers, everyone was shocked and surprised, but not me. Our closest family and friends knew we had been at odds over my caffeine habit, but it was harmless. It was just coffee. Who divorces over coffee? 2.5 years have passed since the divorce. And I'm off the anti-anxiety meds and have a can of soda every now and then. And when I sit back and think of it all over a sensible cup of green tea, I understand that love dies from the wrong word and the wrong glance. I understand how mountains are made of molehills. I know what it's like for a simple warning out of love to turn into something bigger, which turns into something bigger, which turns into something even bigger still. Then it's so big that you forget it all started over a harmless cup of coffee. Here is the cold, hard truth: this woman ended up divorced, diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder and put on anti-anxiety meds just to cope with the fallout of a caffeine habit she still craved. She was consuming well over 2,000 milligrams a day. That's several times what most experts consider the upper safe limit. She said it herself: "Who divorces over coffee? Nobody. They divorce over the irritability, the mood swings, and the chemical wall." you build between yourself and the people you love. If you're listening to this while standing in line at a coffee shop, ask yourself, is this fuel or is this a crutch? Don't let your legacy be a stack of empty venti cups and a home you helped fracture. Audit your intake. If you made it this far into the truth about caffeine, you already know this isn't just about coffee. It's about your nervous system, your sleep, your anxiety, and your life. If you don't want to do this alone, that's why I built Unwired. Inside the Unwired app, you can log your last caffeine use, track withdrawals, sleep, mood, and energy over days and weeks. See your own nervous system reset instead of hoping it's working. And get matched with a coach for one-on-one training so you're not white-knuckling this by yourself. Alongside that, the Unwired Podcast walks through 40 real caffeine case studies. People who went from just coffee to energy drinks and pills and then back out. You'll hear their mistakes, relapses, and what actually worked. Both links are at the top of the description. Join the Unwired app waitlist for coaching and tracking. Listen to the Unwired Podcast. Save this audiobook, send it to one person who needs it, And if you're stuck in that daily 2:00 PM crash, come do this with us inside Unwired, not just in your head.