Londiwe Buthelezi
24 July 2026
Thandeka Mkhize can pinpoint the exact shape of her Friday evenings. “Work stress builds all week, and by Friday I want two things – something sweet and a glass of wine,” she says. “It felt like a reward. It took me a long time to notice it was also making my Sunday anxiety worse.”
Thandeka, a 41-year-old administrator from Durban, isn’t alone in that pattern. South Africa carries some of the highest per capita sugar intake and heaviest episodic drinking rates in the world, and increasingly, researchers are asking a question that goes beyond waistlines and liver health: what is this doing to our collective nervous system?
“Both sugar and alcohol share something important – they offer fast, short-term relief from stress, followed by a rebound that often leaves people feeling worse than before,” says Dr Aviwe Booi, a clinical psychologist who works with patients on anxiety and substance use. “Alcohol depresses the central nervous system in the moment, but as it clears the body, it can trigger a spike in anxiety – what we sometimes call ‘hangxiety.’ Sugar causes a similar rollercoaster with blood glucose, which affects mood stability.”
The trouble, Dr Booi says, is that both substances are woven so deeply into how South Africans socialise and cope that the link to anxiety often goes unquestioned. “It’s in celebration, in grief, in boredom, in stress relief. When something is that normalised, people rarely stop to ask what it’s doing to them internally.”
Registered dietitian Naledi Sithole is cautious about turning this into a story of blame. “The goal isn’t to demonise sugar or alcohol, or to shame anyone reaching for a drink after a hard week,” she says. “The goal is awareness. When people understand the physiological loop – stress, quick relief, rebound, more stress – they can start making small shifts without feeling like they’re being punished.”
Sithole points out that South Africa’s relationship with both substances is also shaped by economics and access. “For a lot of households, sugar is cheap, filling, and available in ways that fresh produce isn’t. And alcohol is heavily marketed, especially around social and sporting events. This isn’t just a willpower issue – it’s an environment issue.”
For Thandeka, change didn’t come from cutting things out entirely. “My psychologist didn’t tell me to stop drinking or stop eating cake. She asked me to just notice what I felt on Sunday afternoons, and trace it back.” Over several months, Thandeka began replacing one of her two Friday glasses of wine with sparkling water and lime, and started keeping fruit in the house for the sweet cravings that used to send her to the biscuit tin. “It’s not dramatic. But Sundays feel less like a crash now.”
She’s also started talking about it more openly with friends. “I used to think I was the only one lying awake on a Sunday night feeling anxious for no reason. Turns out almost everyone I know has felt exactly that, after exactly that kind of Friday.”
Dr Booi believes the first step for most people isn’t a diet or drinking plan – it’s simply naming the cycle. “You don’t need to overhaul your life to start noticing the pattern. Awareness on its own often creates the first opening for change.”
For readers recognising themselves in Thandeka’s Friday-to-Sunday cycle, both experts agree the point isn’t guilt. It’s curiosity – a willingness to ask what a craving is really asking for, before reaching for what’s fastest.
If drinking or eating patterns feel difficult to manage on your own, a registered counsellor, psychologist, or your local clinic can offer support tailored to your situation.
