As I read your words, the first thing I feel is a deep admiration for your honesty. You’ve weathered storms that would have broken anyone, and it’s perfectly human to seek refuge when the world you knew is crumbling. Sugar, at this moment, isn’t a vice; it’s an emotional painkiller for a pain that has nowhere else to go just yet.

However, I know you recognise this: that friendship with sugar is a loan that charges us high interest. Your self-control hasn’t disappeared; it’s simply worn out from holding you up in the midst of your loss. Don’t punish yourself for needing a breather, but remember that you’re the one in control, not the sugar jar. When the grief eases a little more, your true self will take the reins again, because that woman who built a home over 12 years and looked after her loved ones is still there, intact. Give yourself permission to work through this with patience, but don’t forget that your greatest strength lies not in what you consume, but in your ability to get up every morning, even in a house that you don’t yet feel is your own.