Where my vitamins go to die….
Please, somebody…
Tell me you have a supplement cupboard like mine.
I wish I could tell you that I know exactly what I am doing when it comes to supplements; but I have a horrible feeling that I buy them on impulse and then forget what I have bought, why I bought them and what they are supposed to help solve.
The following three supplements I have decided to share as they are the most embarrassing.
- Taking GOLD for the most out-of-date supplement in my cupboard is Chromium. Interestingly, I do remember why I bought this one – it was because Chromium is needed for the docking of insulin on cell receptors to allow glucose to enter. These were bought because as a member of a prone-to-diabetes-type-2 family I need all the help I can get. I must have started taking them enthusiastically enough because the pot is nearly empty [there are 13 tablets left], but for some reason I tailed off and forgot about them. I checked the best-by date: October 2010. These have been in my cupboard for 16 years and I challenge anybody to have an older supplement than this.
- Taking SILVER is Betaine HCL [Betaine Hydrochloride with Pepsin]. Truly I have no idea why I bought these and cannot remember taking any, and as the pot is nearly full, it seems that I really didn’t. All I know is that these are used to help the digestive process for people with low stomach acid, especially the digestion of protein. Did I have digestive problems? Not that I can remember. Did I buy them for somebody else? Don’t think so. Do I have digestive problems now? No. Why are they still in my cupboard then? I do not have a sensible enough answer for this. Best-by date is 2018.
- In BRONZE position is CLEAN AFRICAN MANGO giving me a 2 month’s supply of 120 caps which should have been finished 3 years 4 months ago. So, these are relatively new as the BBD is April 2023. I cannot explain to you what the nutritional or therapeutic value of African Mango is, or why one should take them in capsule form. I cannot even explain what state of mind I was in when I bought them. When I found them in my supplement’s cupboard, I was mildly surprised, thinking ‘what the heck are these?’
The cupboard itself has become a kind of psychological museum. Each supplement represents a moment in time: a fleeting worry, a half‑formed plan, a late‑night Google search, a conversation with a colleague who swore that this was the thing that changed everything. I even suspect I was swayed by an enthusiastic seller on Facebook.
If an anthropologist [or psychologist] were ever to excavate my kitchen, they would probably conclude that I suffered from at least seventeen nutritional deficiencies and a chronic inability to finish what I started. They would also assume I had a touching faith in small plastic tubs. In fairness, they’re not entirely wrong.
I know this. And yet; I keep them. I don’t throw them away. Part of me feels guilty, as if discarding them would be admitting defeat, and wasting money. But the bigger part of me just forgets that they are there…
My supplements cupboard is not a place of health. It is a place of hope, abandonment, and mild shame.
I suspect, and I hope, that I’m not alone.
